Dressed in Yellow: BBW Contemporary Romance Read online

  “What do you want me to do, Daniel?” Aiva asked, patience gone. They stood in the stock room, arguing as loudly as they dared. “I brought them here for this exact purpose. To create a storm of traffic and publicity so Mandira can stand outside and direct traffic right into my business. We’ve expanded our product line to include gardening supplies, organic seeds, purses made from hemp. It’s good for business. You should get that.”

  “It ain’t good for business when this place is being ousted as one of my ventures. If I wanted my enemies to know where they can hit me, I’d just put up a big flashy sign that said, ‘Yo, Danny’s money lives here. Come take it.’“

  Aiva rolled her eyes. “Come on. No one is going to mess with a flower shop.”

  “Oh yeah?” He glared at her. “And I got a visit from the Fed’s today. They sniffing around tryin’ to figure out if this is a front.”

  Aiva folded her arms. No gal worth her salt in this particular community got nervous at the mention of the law. “They can sniff around all they want. This is my business, and I run it clean. There is nothing for them to sniff.”

  Daniel took a step closer to her, leaning into her in a way that made her skin crawl. When Leon had closed space, her body had felt light, tingling with anticipation. She’d anticipated the challenge of dealing with him. But Daniel- she felt sorry for whoever his woman was.

  Because her cousin wouldn’t leave her alone to run her business, she decided to take the matter above his head.

  ***

  “Ms. Losito,” the grandfatherly looking man emerged from his office door, approaching her with hands out. Iron-grey hair and fit form, Daniel’s superior- the many her cousin reported to- was the epitome of a well ageing high-ranking soldier. Fit, calm, and competent.

  Aiva placed her hands in his and he raised her knuckles to his lips, chuckling. “Ah, the benefit of advanced age,” he said. “I can kiss the hand of a beautiful woman, and her brothers won’t come after me with a shot gun.”

  Aiva smiled despite herself. Paulo’s charm was legendary. “You, they should come after,” she said. “You’re a charming bastard.”

  He laughed. “Still blunt. Come, come. Let’s sit in the office. I was surprised to hear you wanted to speak with me.”

  He led her into his office, shutting the door behind him and giving them the illusion of privacy. Soldiers sat in the lobby, and patrolled the grounds. She was certain there were microphones which could be turned on or off at Paulo’s will.

  Aiva sat in the chair in front of him, smoothing her full yellow and blue flowered skirt underneath her, crossing her feet at the ankles.

  “Paulo, you know I have a contract with my cousin Daniel.”

  He frowned at her. “I do. I don’t approve of it. The terms are not appropriate for a cousin.”

  She lowered her eyes. She knew he referred to the terms that...could...imply that if she defaulted that the service she was to provide him in lieu of payment be of a more personal nature. Usually, between relatives, these things were no more than cooking, cleaning, and running errands. Many a woman signed contracts like these when they found themselves in hard straits, basically putting themselves in the protection of a male of sufficient rank to support and protect her in return.

  “I’m confident I can meet my obligations. But I need time for the strategy I’ve chosen to work.”

  “Hmm.” He sat back in his chair. “The media ruckus. Clever, that. Though not what I might have done in your place. But effective. It shows some thinking.” He tapped his temple. “I like thinking in a young person. Gives me hope we’re not leaving things behind to morons.”

  “Yes, well, Danny has been pressuring me to get rid of the BeeKeepers, rather than ride it out naturally. His insistence is interfering with me running the business.”

  “And you want me to muffle him, eh?”

  “Well... maybe if you suggested he lay off and let me do my job...”

  “I’ll talk with him. But what will you give an old man in return?”

  She rose, smiling, and rounded the desk. “You are not an old man. Don’t shame me.”

  His eyes twinkled in delight as she lowered her face and gave him a proper kiss. A gentlemen, he didn’t press for more, or take advantage and slap her ass. She appreciated his class.

  “Ah, if I were just ten years younger,” Paulo said with a sigh. “Then your brothers might have to come after me with a shotgun.”

  ***

  Because it was Sunday, and Aiva didn’t feel like cooking- again- she went to her childhood home for dinner after leaving Paulo. Most of the clan was gathered. Her brothers and their wives, the ones who were married. Her mother, father, and grandmother. Assorted cousins who lived in the area and her parent’s siblings. A small house in her youth, the success f her parents’ restaurant had allowed them to build up, and out to accommodate the multitude of relatives.

  “It’s the Bee Girl!” her father shouted when she entered the front door.

  She stopped short. “Really, Pa?”

  Her mother approached, enveloping her in a hug and kiss. “We saw you speak to the news people on the television, dear. Those brave folks- lying in the street like that because of bees.”

  “It’s important, Ma. The bees are dying because of global warming. IF they die it will interrupt the food chain.”

  Her mother’s forehead wrinkled.

  “No more wheat crops to make pasta, Ma.”

  The older woman’s expression cleared and she smacked Aiva on the arm. “Don’t sass me, girl. I’m not stupid.”

  Aiva voided rolling her eyes and dived into the crowd of family, friends, and neighbors who’d all wandered in for a plate and conversation. The noise would have frightened the faint of heart. Aiva sat at the table in the midst of it, enjoying homemade ravioli stuffed with lamb and feta- her mother experimenting with Mediterranean-Italian fusion. Usually, she tried new dishes out on the family before bringing them to the restaurant.

  Daniel slid into the seat next to her, having been recently vacated by a cousin who came to eat, and run.

  “How’s the ravioli?” he asked.

  She shrugged. “It’s good. Not traditional.”

  His eyebrow rose. “You ain’t much of a traditional gal, yourself, cousin.”

  Aiva said nothing, pointedly looking at his full plate. He smiled, continuing to stare at her, and took a bite of his lasagna.

  “So, I’m curious, and I thought maybe you could enlighten me a little. Why are both Leon Sudano and Paulo so interested in you?”

  Aiva wasn’t quite silly enough to choke n her pasta, though the fork did pause on its way to her mouth.

  “I wasn’t aware either was...interested in me.”

  Danny’s eyes glinted. “Come on, Aiva. You have a better poker face than that. So what’s up? Leon Sudano. Start with him. We’ll get to you going over my head in a minute.”

  She pushed pasta around her plate. “There is nothing to get to. You know more about Sudano than I do.”

  “Then why’s he sweating me about buying out your contract?”

  She shrugged. “He likes flowers? Or the color yellow?”

  Her cousin leaned towards her, lowering his voice. “Don’t make me smack you around, Aiva.”

  Setting her fork down, she took a second to consider her response. “You could try to smack me around,” she replied, voice equally low. “I’m not sure if you would survive smacking me around. Cousin.”

  Their eyes locked, mean dark on angry dark, the doorbell going off in the background. Aiva barely registered it, other than to wonder fleetingly why the person didn’t just come in. The door was never locked. When silence descended- relative silence, anyway- she tore herself away from the staring contest and twisted in her seat, looking past the open arch of the dining room into the entryway hall, and only then because of Danny’s sudden stiffness.

  Leon stood inside the door, a brown bag in his arms, sheepish look on his face.

  Aiva’
s mother rushed towards him. “Mr. Sudano! This is a surprise.”

  He smiled at the older woman. “I hope I’m not intruding. I was in the neighborhood speaking with a friend and asked about a good place to go for a plate of home cooked pasta and he swore the best was here on Sunday night.”

  Lydia took his coat, ushering him through the entry way and into the dining room.

  “Sit, sit,” she said. “Maury, get the boy a plate of the new raviolis. And some salad. You children don’t eat enough green stuff.”

  Leon sat in a hastily vacated chair with an air of meekness. Right next to Aiva.

  “Danny,” her mother called. “Go help Maury in the kitchen with the men’s sauce.”

  Her cousin didn’t dare protest- especially not with her father eyeballing him to make sure his wife’s orders were obeyed in her own home. Danny placed a hand on Aiva’s briefly, pressing hard enough to make a point, then got up.

  “The men’s sauce?” Leon asked.

  “A secret recipe known only to the men of the family,” she replied evenly. “They make a pot of it every family meal. They make a big drama out of it.”

  He lifted the brown bag in his arms. “I brought wine. And dessert.”

  She turned her head, eyes narrowing. “I thought you said you just happened to be in the neighborhood?”

  He blinked, expression innocent. “Did I? Hmm.” Leaning towards her, his lips almost touched her ear. “Whenever I’m in your presence, my dear, it is never by accident.”

  Warm breath tickled the inside of her ear. Aiva stiffened, the sensation a new one, setting off a tingle that ran down her body to key parts in a way she hadn’t realized possible.

  “What are you doing here?” she hissed.

  Leon smiled. “Having dinner.”

  They played cat and mouse for the next hour. Aiva rose on the auspices of having finished her meal. Another female cousin readily took her seat next to Leon. Aiva escaped into the living room and sandwiched herself between her brothers.

  Saltano eyed her. “Hey, Pa, maybe we should start bringing home some decent guys for Aiva. She’s at that age, you know?”

  Aiva glared at him. “What age? What age!”

  Andrew snorted, sipping on a red wine. Saltano slung an arm around her. “The age for you to get married. A good girl, from a good family. Nice curves, a little business sense. I don’t think you cook much anymore, but no woman is perfect, eh?”

  “Don’t you dare try to fix me up.”

  Their father approached, taking a few minutes to cajole one of the toddlers out of his chair. When finally seated, he fixed his only daughter with a stern gaze.

  “Your brother is right, Aiviana. It’s high time you started courting. If you get too much older-”

  “I wouldn’t go there, Pa,” Saltano cut in hastily.

  “You guys are going to make me have to ask for Protection,” she half joked.

  “From who?” Saltano retorted. “Who would you rather have rights over you to guard you, act on your behalf? Your brothers, or some man in the community?”

  Aiva rose, smoothing the skirt of her dress carefully, and stalked from the living room. It was clearly time for dessert.

  Which she took and escaped out of the house and into the back yard with. There was a small gazebo tucked in a corner her father and brothers built years ago... that had been a long summer. She sat on the bench and dug her spoon into her first bite of sweetened cream and sponge cake, closing her eyes to enjoy the taste and the quiet.

  As if she would ever ask any man for Protection. Something like that was a last resort, an appeal to a man of power in the community to guard you from someone who wanted to do you harm. But it meant that that Protector could do what he wanted with you in repayment. For as long as he wanted, until he considered the debt satisfied. Not quite like the contract she’d signed with Daniel- the contract had terms and parameters. Protection… for women that was usually more permanent than marriage.

  “Did I pick the right dessert?” Leon asked.

  She opened her eyes. “Homemade would have been better.”

  He stepped into the gazebo, sitting next to her. “Not my homemade. I can’t cook. Horrible thing, isn’t it? I’m taking lessons, though.”

  “Get a wife,” she said without thinking.

  He smiled, and even in the darkness the flash of his teeth clearly shone. “I’ve been trying. I can’t quite find the right girl.”

  “You’re probably too picky,” she replied. She could just imagine his wish list- some slim, sweet natured young thing who could make a perfect scratch noodle, pressed the sheets fresh out of the dryer, was waiting for him with a glass of wine at the end of the day. She suppressed a shudder, sitting her empty plate on the ground next to her.

  “No,” he replied, slowly. “Not in the way you mean.”

  Leon lifted her hand from her thigh, cupped it in his. His fingertips traveled slowly over the back of her hand and circled her wrist, the featherlike caresses causing her breath to catch in her throat. An innocent touch, nothing overtly sensual. But yet her body tightened.

  “I need a woman who is loyal,” he said. “Who will tell me the truth. A woman with strength to ride out a storm with me. A woman who will nurse our babies instead of giving them a bottle of synthetic cow’s milk. A woman from the old country.”

  “Barefoot and pregnant over a pot of marinara,” she said, breath uneven.

  Leon laughed softly. “Maybe some of the time. But I would want her to have her own interests- her own life. A mind to challenge mine.”

  “Not too many Harvard models walking around this town.”

  “Harvard didn’t produce the woman I want.”

  His free hand touched her cheek, turning her face with gentle pressure. He waited until her eyes rose to meet his, the only light from the windows and the streetlamp over the alley. It was enough. Enough to see he wasn’t smiling and the intensity in his face wasn’t a trick of the shadows.

  Leon’s head dipped forward, lips brushing hers once, twice. A seeking, or first foray before committing fully to battle. Her mouth opened underneath him slowly and when he felt her relax, his head angled, tongue swooping in to claim her mouth. He leaned into her, arm coming around her back and pulling her even closer to him. She felt him unleash the strength he kept caged, her hands rising to grasp his arms. Blood rushed through her veins, warming the parts of her that begged for a man’s touch. Aiva didn’t understand why she allowed him the liberty, only knew that something in the way he looked at her, the timbre of his voice when his mouth caressed the syllables of her name… it felt like a chance for passion, and something deeper, less transitory.

  Leon’s mouth devoured her, inhaled her breath as if he were trying to capture her soul. A strong hand wrapped around the nape of her neck and he stood, pulling her to her feet along with him. Pulling her hips against his.

  Aiva moaned, the heat building deep in her pussy as unexpected as it was unwelcome. No man had ever affected her like this- she always found their attentions suspect, maybe because she now realized, their passion was false. He held her like she was the only thing on his mind. Aiva struggled to remember that she didn’t trust Leon- didn’t really know him. Shouldn’t put too much hope into this flare of desire between them. Men like him weren’t interested in women like her. A plain, no frills, down to earth working girl who enjoyed her pasta a little more than she should- and truthfully, liked the results. Because the results gave him a whole lot of woman to work with. And his hands were busy covering her body, cupping her buttocks with a possessiveness Aiva knew she needed to challenge. This kiss was getting out of hand; he touched her as if he had a right. As if they weren’t in her father’s backyard.

  “Aiviana!”

  Shit. Aiva tore away from Leon, who didn’t immediately let her go. She got a glimpse of his hard expression before he allowed her to turn.

  “Pa, I was just coming-”

  Her father slashed a hand in the air, hurr
ying towards her, Saltano and Andrew right behind.

  “You come in my home and assault my daughter?” her father roared.

  Aiva was shocked. “Pa! It’s okay. He didn’t force himself on me.”

  “You’re a good girl of good family, it doesn’t matter whether he asked you!”

  “Defend yourself, Sudano,” Andrew said, lining up with Saltano behind their father.

  Aiva’s knees trembled. Had they all gone mad? “Father-”

  “Saltano, take your sister.”

  Leon growled, hands wrapping around her forearms. “No.”

  The menace in his tone touched a note of fear deep inside her- a feminine fear. A woman knowing that a man was ready to kill for her.

  But then he took a deep breath, releasing her.

  “My apologies,” Leon said. “Aiva, go to your brothers.”

  He spoke as if he had a right to order her around. She turned and glared at him, opening her mouth to tear a strip out of his hide when he looked at her. And Aiva understood, then, why he was who he was. Why the men feared him.

  Well, except for her father and brothers.

  By now the whole family had spilled out into the backyard, drawn by the unnecessary ruckus. Great. Aiva closed her eyes.

  “I apologize for offending you, Mr. Losito,” Sudano said quietly, hands at his sides. Andrew grabbed her arm and dragged her away from him, shoving her behind their father. “I’ve disrespected your home- but it wasn’t intentional.”

  “So you had no intentions to come here and take advantage of my daughter under the dark of night- with her family in the house? Are you laughing at us?”

  “No.” Leon lowered his head, a gesture of penitence. “I came to ask your permission to court her, for marriage. I... wanted to ask her first, though.” He smiled, a little ruefully. “I thought it would win me some points. Her beauty... went to my head.”

  Aiva stood, stunned, gaping at Leon, unsure she’d heard his words correctly. But when her father’s bristling shoulders relaxed and he hooked thumbs into the waistband of his pants, Aiva knew she had heard correctly.

  “Well. I’m a man. I can understand... a nice night, a lovely girl. But it had better not happen again. My wife and I raised a respectable young woman.” Father paused. “Courtship, eh?”