Page 3 of Stolen Moments with a Bad Boy

“Do it. Give him a chance and see what he’s about. If there’s no chemistry, then get up and leave. You don’t owe him anything.”

I nodded. “You’re right. I’m going to do it.”

“That’s right, girl,” Londen replied. We slapped five then went about our duties.

While I wiped down my fancy coffee machines, I reflected on how my little café had brought people from many walks of life to us. It had been three long yet amazing years that Gigi’s Baby Café and Lounge had been up and running. There had been all kinds of hiccups and major roadblocks, but my perseverance had no limits. My dreams had no limits. I spent every waking minute working hard to improve my business and supplying my customers with good quality food, drinks, entertainment, and most importantly, customer service. You could have a bomb ass product or service all day long, but if the staff was shitty, you could pretty much hang it up.

There were fresh fruits and vegetables delivered weekly from local produce farms. The chicken and eggs were free-range because I used a free-range farm a couple of counties over from where my café was located. My cooks were all well rounded and experienced in cooking multicultural cuisine for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. It was a requirement because I strived to offer not only a visual experience but an explosive palate experience for every customer that visited my café.

My staff that worked the floor and front of the house were very professional and friendly. I made sure both my managers were on top of their game, supplying the day and night customers with accurate and speedy service. My staff was well taken care of with full benefits, holiday bonuses, and vacation time. So much so that there was always someone dropping off an application for a job.

Being a boss and business owner like my dad was what I dreamed about. As a little girl, I always spent time with my Gigi, and that was where my love for oldies and comfort food was born. Gigi used to say old school jams and a hot meal were a lethal combination. Two things were bound to happen—you either found a solution to your problem or you ignored it entirely. That was my Gigi for you. She was so vibrant and wise beyond her years. I spent almost every day with her, soaking up her positive vibes, and admiring her outgoing spirit.

When I turned sixteen, Gigi’s health declined mysteriously. As the days went on, she transformed from a healthy ox to a shell of a woman. Doctors couldn’t pinpoint exactly what the issue was. Some speculated cancer, while others twiddled their thumbs. My Gigi lived to see my extravagant sweet sixteen. A few weeks later, she suffered a heart attack and passed away. That was the worst year of my life. When she left, my whole world ended, leaving me with a sibling who would rather do anything than spend time with me.

My Gigi left everything to me in her will, including her and Grandpa’s insurance policies. I had more money than a little bit. Trust me. The money wasn’t a factor. The most important thing to me was our memories and the cookbook we created with an oldies jam to go with every recipe. I vowed to make her proud.

The main level was the café. The second floor was the lounge, and the third level was my two-bedroom apartment. I was more elated than Lamar Odom at that bunny ranch when I was granted my storefront from my daddy. I spent the whole summer decorating, menu planning, and hiring staff. With help from my brother’s girlfriend, Londen, and my dad’s forty-year-old girlfriend, Trix, business was up and going within a year. Thousands of dollars, sweat, and tears went into making this place sparkle and shine like my Gigi would have loved.

Customers made their visits during rain, sleet, snow, and just about any type of inclement weather. They were loyal and faithful. What could I say; the place was worth the buzz. I finished my cleaning when a deep voice cleared behind me. Janeiro stood at the counter with a sexy ass smirk on his face.

“Hey, Bella. How about that game?”

Two

Janeiro

In my forty-one years of living, I’d experienced different emotions, but hope was never one of them until today. Hope was what Erie turned around and blessed me with. In my line of work, knowing God was necessary. I always asked the man upstairs for repentance. In this particular moment, I knew a blessing when I saw one. When Erie’s hazel-brown eyes connected with mine, hope swam freely in them. Her eyes weren’t just any old brown and green. They were the vibrant colors that signaled to everyone that summer was here.

They were shades of browns and greens that matched the newly blossomed flowers and full, leafy trees. Her irises captured me at first glance, and immediately, I was enamored. I ran into women every day that vied for my attention, but none of them could hold a candle to this brown-skinned beauty.

Erie’s skin made my mouth water for a piece of old-fashioned caramel cake. She stood at about five feet four inches or five inches with a medium build. Erie was thick with round hips and an ass that you could balance a cup on.

It took everything in me to focus on her and not the restriction my dick felt in my slacks. After our brief conversationand Erie agreeing to play a game of chess with me, that literally made my day. The escorts I dealt with only pretended to be interested because the job paid well, and I knew my way in and around pussy. With that being said, I was never into sleeping around, but I occasionally paid for a moment of sexual relief when the spirit moved me. Call me old fashioned, but I, too, wanted that dream of coming home to my wife and kids. I couldn’t carry out my line of work forever.

The nice waitress by the name of Londen brought my steaming plate of food. I ate and reveled in the ambiance the café freely distributed amongst Erie’s customers. There was an old-school jukebox that crooned out one of my favorite tunes. The Four Tops “Bernadette” would always be a classic and remind me of my senior prom.

When the most popular girl at my high school asked me to prom and broke my virginity later that night, I felt on top of the world. I never knew why she did it. Some part of me always assumed it was out of pity. Whatever it was, I worked her ass out that night. Just because I was quiet didn’t mean I was slow or any less of a man. I had my reasons to keep to myself. Only the woman I chose to marry would know those secrets.

I finished my food and sought out the hazel-eyed beauty that had been heavily on my mind for the past month.

“Hey, Bella. How about that game?”

She looked up from her task and grinned. “I'm ready.”

She put her supplies away then followed me over to the first table I sat at. I made the first move then looked up at her.

“How old are you, if you don’t mind me asking? You look so youthful.”

She giggled then made her first move on the board. “I’m twenty-nine years old.”

She made a counter move after I went after her, taking one of my pieces. Erie was much better than she led me to believe.

“Young and successful. I love to see it, Bella. Was it hard obtaining your store?” I made a move, taking one of her pieces.

Her eyes were focused on the board as she spoke. “My father helped me financially with acquiring this building, but all the inspiration is credited to my Gigi. She’s the reason this place has the old-school vibe. The jukebox, the black and white tile floor, recipes, and mainly the whole feel of this place is her. It’s my way of keeping her memory alive.” Erie beamed brightly as she appeared to be proud that she made her Gigi proud. “Now, since I get the feeling we’re about to play twenty-one questions, it’s your turn. How old are you, and what do you do for a living?”

“I see you have a sense of humor. I like that. I’m forty-one, and I own the tailor shop right across the street from you and a dry cleaners two blocks down on West Boulevard.”

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