Page 114 of Babies at Coconuts

Chapter 80

Cheri’s mind reeled as she studied her childhood chef. Julio looked more handsome than ever. Still tall and lanky with flawless olive skin, jet-black hair that had a slight curl, piercing, dark eyes, and a disarming smile. Almost fifteen years her senior, he now had a slight tinge of gray around his temples but was still as sexy as hell. He smelled just like she remembered as a teen—clean and spicy, with a hint of garlic.

Obviously sensing her hesitation, Julio asked, “Cheri, when was the last time we saw each other?”

She shrugged. “Well over a decade ago.”

“Exactly.” His dark eyes pierced hers. “What are you waiting for? Say you’ll have dinner with me.”

Cheri’s heart hammered. She stared downward as if for an answer. It took all of her strength to ignore the pink blob of icing on her right shoe. After a deep breath, she said, “I don’t have anything to change into. I’ve got icing all over me.”

Julio waved his hand dismissively. “You’re gorgeous the way you are. No more arguments.”

Her mind swirled. Why not? It’s just dinner. She waited about ten seconds before answering. “I’ll go.”

Alex threw her head back and laughed. “I guess we know what your prize is, Julio.”

The European reached for Cheri and dipped her head nearly to the floor, as if they were doing a ballroom dance. “My little Van Buren is all grown up.” He eyed her from her head to her toes. “Very nicely, I might add. Ready? Tell your friends good-bye.”

Cheri hugged her girlfriends. Leaning in, she whispered, “Can you believe this? Thanks again for your support today.”

Still holding her hand, Julio led Cheri toward the back door. Struggling to keep pace with the tall chef, she glanced over her shoulder and blew a kiss. “Hold down the fort at Coconuts.”

As they approached the back of the massive room still crawling with energetic brides, Cheri’s heart pounded. She wasn’t sure why but her former childhood chef made her nervous. Wrestling with her apron, she eventually got it untied, and shoved it inside her black Prada purse.

Julio’s eyes danced as he motioned toward a back stairwell. “We need to go upstairs.”

“Why? I’m parked out front.”

With a mischievous grin, he said, “You’ll see.”

After they walked what seemed like fifty steps, Julio opened an outer door to the roof.

Cheri’s eyes widened when she heard the chop-chop of helicopter blades. Shouting over the noise, she asked, “What’s this?”

“It’s called a helicopter.” Julio chuckled as he cupped his mouth with his hand and yelled, “After you.”

The wind from the chopper blew Cheri’s hair into her eyes. She held her blouse with her free hand as she clumsily climbed inside.

The pilot said, “Welcome aboard,” and handed them headsets.

Cheri buckled her seatbelt. “I thought you said we were going to dinner. Where are we going?”

Julio’s eyes twinkled. “Dinner, like I said.”

“And we need a helicopter?”

He clicked his seatbelt and turned to Cheri. “We’re having dinner in Paris.”

“Paris?” Her stomach lurched. “I don’t have a change of clothes. I can’t just go to France. I have a business to run.”

Clucking his tongue, Julio said, “You Americans need to learn how to relax. We can buy whatever you want, and if we’re lucky, we’ll see your parents. I’m sure your mom will loan you some clothes. You look about the same size.”

Cheri rubbed her tense shoulders. “I need toiletries, my computer so I can stay in touch with my employees, and—”

“My Cheri. Settle down. We’ll only be gone a few days. We can buy whatever you need.” Julio’s face fell. “If you don’t want to go, no pressure. We’ll stay here and have dinner. It’s up to you.” He paused. “But I thought you’d like the chance to see your parents again.”

“Of course I want to see my parents. It’s been far too long.” Cheri leaned against the seat, trying to force herself to relax, but it was pointless. “I don’t even have my phone charger with me.”

---