Crashing into Love Page 7

  The group is small, but consistent. Wren calls in if she’s able, Amber joins us when she can, which is less than before since she had the baby and Chari, Charlie, and McKinley Poole are my ride or dies. They’re here no matter what and if they can’t be here in person for some reason, they tend to FaceTime so they can pretend to be here.

  I decided to go all out and make homemade cupcakes too—red velvet. I’m going to force the girls to take some home, so I am not left with too many to tempt me. We’re also having steaks and wedge salads. Yes, I tend to go overboard, but I enjoy cooking for my friends, and it makes the night last longer.

  They’ll be arriving anytime, so I make sure everything is warm in the oven and I change my clothes. I need to look somewhat human and less like I belong in a sci-fi video from the crazy hair and the food that is all over me.

  The phone rings and I answer, buzzing them up. I finish washing my face and pulling up my hair just as the door opens.

  “Sutton!” I hear Chari yell at me from the front of the apartment. “We’re here.”

  “In here,” I yell back at her. “I’ll be right out.”

  Running out of the bathroom, I head straight to the kitchen to get the steaks out of the oven. I don my kitchen gloves and open the oven allowing the delicious heat to billow out in waves of beef.

  Placing the pan on the oven top, I slip my gloves off and head back to the living room to greet everyone.

  “Hey!” we all squeal at the same time, hugging each other. We’re not usually this loud before drinks. But after we sound like a gymnasium full of high school girls.

  “You ladies look fabulous.” I hold up my arm and spin McKinley around, then Chari and Charlie.

  “It seems like forever since we’ve all been together,” Charlie pipes up. She’s not wrong. We usually get together every month, but since we were reading a series, we decided to skip a month so everyone had time to read all three books.

  “For us it has,” McKinley chimes in. “I don’t know why we didn’t decide to at least meet up for dinner or something.”

  “No one asked.” We all burst out laughing because no one asks. We’re a group of bossy and demanding women who don’t ask each other.

  “Come on. The food is going to get cold.” I lead them into the amazing smelling kitchen.

  “Oh wow, you cooked for us.” Chari peers at the steaks before turning to open the fridge and pulling out the steak sauce. I may be an exceptional cook, but I can’t do anything when it comes to her and her sauce.

  “Thank you for cooking.” Charlie is the demurest of all of us. She tends to listen more than speak, but if you get in between her and a treat, she’ll cut you. When she weaves her way through the bodies to the other side of the kitchen, I know she’s going for a cupcake.

  “I don’t care if you eat one before dinner, but I did make your favorite wedge salad to go with the steak and potatoes.” Pointing at the table, I say, “Sit,” and the girls take their regular seats.

  Charlie pipes up, “Should we have our wills up to date?”

  “Ha ha.” Rolling my eyes, I laugh at her joke. Ironically, she’s the one who can’t cook and has given herself food poisoning more times than I can count.

  I place all the dishes on the table and take a seat. After filling our wineglasses, we all hold them up in mock salute as I say, “Thank you all for being here. It’s been way too long. Now, eat and enjoy.”

  McKinley is the first to break the silence. “God, this is amazing. I need to hire you to cook for me.” She closes her eyes, savoring the melt-in-your-mouth steak.

  Chari giggles. “I taught her to cook.”

  I smile because it’s true. She’s the mom I wanted growing up. Don’t get me wrong, my parents loved me. But my dad couldn’t get over the fact that I wasn’t what he wanted, and Mom was more worried about her charities and the community than me. Maybe it’s a good thing she didn’t worry about me. It’s difficult to imagine my mom as someone who hovers, but that may have made me crazier than her indifference to me.

  “How are you still single?” Charlie swallows before taking another bite.

  Laughing, I shrug my shoulders. “Who knows. But that’s a topic for a different night.”

  She grins and we keep eating.

  Charlie catches us up on her work. For years I’ve wondered if they think she’s only a pretty face or if they really recognize how smart she is.

  “I keep telling you, New York is calling you. You’d rock the runway.”

  “Are you kidding? And miss this cooking? No way! I care about food way too much to be a model.”

  McKinley giggles. “I’m going to rock the plus size life.” I glower at her. McKinley is stunningly gorgeous with flawless skin, a pink pouty smile, and curves to die for.

  “Oh, please. I’d love to have your curves.”

  “It’s true,” Chari interrupts. “Back in my day, women were not supposed to fit through prison bars.”

  We all guffaw in response.

  McKinley catches us up on the status of her promotion. She hasn’t heard anything yet but is keeping her fingers crossed.

  When Charlie asks about the office, Chari and I just look at each other.

  “Men are useless,” I scoff.

  They all laugh at me, like I’m being ridiculous.

  “I mean it. They can’t do anything for themselves.”

  “Except Baker.” Chari wiggles her eyebrows. I take the last bite of my steak to avoid commenting.

  Everyone stares at me as I chew. “Oh no. We can’t talk about Baker.” I finish my wine and pour another glass.

  “Yes, we can. He’s a nice young man.” Oh, Chari.

  “You think all the guys are nice,” I say to her.

  “I do not. But I make sure to give them the benefit of the doubt until they prove me wrong.”

  “Are you kidding? Every one of those guys is unbearable—at least one day a week. Including my father.”

  We laugh again. This is exactly what I needed. A night with the girls, laughing, drinking, eating and enjoying each other’s company.

  “Well, Baker is nice. Doesn’t he talk to you sometimes?” She tosses her head back and lets out a snort laugh.

  “They’re all asking for something—even him,” I dead pan, feeling bad about it as soon as the words escape. “Look, Baker is nice. But that doesn’t mean he likes me. He’s just being professional. Besides, I have my hands full with work and keeping things going. I don’t ever want to give my father a reason to ridicule me anymore than he already does. Fraternization, though not expressly forbid, would cause some serious drama that we don’t need.”

  I take a long drink before continuing, “Plus, I’ve already got three guys on the line. How on earth could I juggle another one?”

  “But you’ve already ruled out two,” Charlie says.

  I nod in agreement.

  “Yeah, but . . .”

  “No buts. Then you can add Baker to the list.” Chari stares at me. I take a long drink of my wine. Geez, if this keeps up, I’m going to be shitfaced before this night is over.

  “No Baker,” I exclaim.

  I don’t know if I really mean it, but we move on to dessert and then head to the living room with our drinks. This series we’ve been reading has us reeling. Now that we’ve all finally finished, it’s great to be able to sit down and discuss. I may have another book hangover but it’s more than worth it.

  Two hours later, we’ve drank two more bottles of wine while discussing and dissecting all three books. I have no doubt we’re all going to have raging hangovers in the morning—both from the alcohol and the angst from the books.

  We decide on our next series. We’re going to start with Mister Black by PT Michelle. Yes, I’ve read this one—more than once—but each time I re-read, I pick up on more breadcrumbs.

  “I can’t wait to do this again. But I’m not waiting until we finish the series. I’ll see you next month, no matter what,” Charlie says.

>   I giggle at her demands. “Yes, ma’am.” I’m only a little tipsy, but it’s nice to feel like I can let go.

  Gathering wineglasses and empty bottles, I make my way to the kitchen where the ladies follow, and we make quick work of cleaning up between bites of cupcakes and peals of laughter.

  It’s been such a good night, I don’t want to say goodbye.

  Smut Club

  Capricorn, Cupcakes & Cocktails

  Tonight was book club night. I made a big steak dinner on top of homemade cupcakes, and, of course, a custom-themed cocktail. It didn’t take long for us to fall down the rabbit hole that is Mister Black and Talia. Every time I read this series, I fall a little bit more in love with them. There is something about the way he loves her that sets my heart a buzz.

  Birdy and Goldie are joining us via FaceTime. I don’t think either of them read the books, but it’s not a requirement, just a recommendation. This is how things went . . .

  “Welcome to Smut Club,” I say when they both pop onto the screen. Everyone laughs at the horrible name. I can’t help calling it that, but only to the ladies who are involved. We aren’t serious, but with so many people calling romance smut, we decided to let it ring true. Plus, it keeps the prudes from trying to join us.

  “Only you,” Birdy pipes up.

  “Only me what?” I laugh, pretending like I don’t know what she’s talking about.

  “Whatever,” Goldie says, trying not to laugh while she cuddles a sleeping baby. “You know exactly what she is talking about. Who calls their book club the Smut Club?”

  Ciara, Billie, and Carlotta bust out laughing behind me as I get the girls transferred to the television.

  The theme of the meeting is red and black, and if you’ve read the series, you know why. Black velvet cupcakes with red cream cheese frosting take center stage on the platter. Add in the four bottles of red wine and we had a super great night of fun.

  Billie is more conservative than the rest of us, but she’s also read way more smut than we have. She loves menage—MMF so everyone gets involved in the action—and dark romance. I bet she uses the things she learns on her hubby. He works with us and is the ultimate man’s man. However, I do know that Billie’s father was a preacher and would roll over in his grave if he knew she was reading the dark and depraved romances that she likes.

  What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him, right?

  I look around at the ladies and smile. Book club is the best night of the month. We laugh, sometimes cry, gossip and eat all the things because calories don’t count at book club.

  Until next time,

  Searching Sterling

  Sixteen

  Glancing in the mirror one last time, I make sure everything is in place. The ice blue dress has a modest neckline hits just below the knees. My pearl necklace and earrings are classy, but not too over the top. I finish the outfit with navy blue pumps and handbag.

  I tied my hair into a low ponytail and just as I start messing with it, the doorbell rings. Saved by the bell—literally. After the summons to his office and an invitation to join him and my mother at dinner tonight, Dad sent a car for me, which is a nice departure from his normal way. When we arrive at the location, it looks like a mansion, complete with a gate and guard out front. The driver gives his name and mine before the gate opens and he closes his window.

  “We’re here, Ms. Sterling. I will be available when you’re ready to depart.”

  “Thank you.” He pulls to a stop and I open the door, placing one foot down and then the other. Looking up, I’m sure we’re at the wrong place, but who am I to argue.

  A gentleman in a black tuxedo walks toward me. “Your name, please.” It’s more of a statement than a question.

  “Sutton Sterling.” I try to control my tone as I state my name.

  “Welcome, Ms. Sterling. Please follow the hallway to the left and proceed to the room at the end.”

  He follows me up the steps and holds the door open. “Enjoy your evening,” he says before closing the door behind me.

  As I make my way toward the room where I’m supposedly meeting up with my parents, I notice several rooms that are either conference spaces or high-end hotel suites. What an odd location for dinner.

  So, you can imagine my surprise when I spot my father standing next to a pretty blonde who is probably no older than me. She’s wearing a copper slip dress with blown out hair and insanely beautiful jewels. My mother is nowhere in sight.

  “Good evening, Father,” I say in acknowledgement. “Isn’t Mom joining us?”

  “Sweetheart, this is Daniella Wright.” Sweetheart? The syrup drips from his words, and I can’t believe he’s using a term of endearment toward me. He’s only ever called me by my first name.

  And then I realize he didn’t answer my question. I’ve heard the rumors for years that my mother must be deaf or dumb to allow him to run around on her, but I’ve never seen it with my own two eyes.

  “It’s nice to meet you.” I hold out my hand and offer a polite smile as I try to shake the shock of seeing him with another woman.

  “Hi,” Daniella responds and moves in for a hug instead of a shake. I’m taken aback and cut my eyes to my father.

  The staff interrupts us and shows us to the table. As we maneuver our way into the dining room, I notice there are other people here—by other people, I mean Baker. What the fuck is going on?

  As a bowl of soup is placed in front of each of us, I question why I’m here—and why Baker is here, especially if my father is on a date.

  I take a long drink of my wine, looking back and forth between Baker and my father’s date. “So, you two are together?”

  “How do you define together?” Daniella asks.

  What a twat? If she doesn’t know what together means, I’m in serious trouble.

  “Are you dating? Or fucking? Maybe you have a daddy complex.” I widen my eyes and lift my eyebrows while trying to keep my smirk under control.

  “Sutton!” my father bellows and slams his hands on the table.

  Baker is staring at me and I know he’s trying not to laugh. I mean who asks their father if he is fucking a twenty-something while he’s still married to her mother.

  “If you would have minded your manners, I would have explained why you’re here,” My father says. His tone is flat, and it’s obvious he is pissed at my outburst considering the darkness in his eyes.

  “Please explain, John,” Baker states.

  “Yes, Daniella and I are in a relationship and, Sutton, if that bothers you, I welcome you to reach out to your mother and discuss it.” I roll my eyes at him. I cannot believe my mother would give her husband carte blanche to date whoever he wants while he’s married to her. God, I feel like I’m in the Twilight Zone.

  “But tonight, isn’t about that. It’s about business.”

  Maybe I should have stayed home instead of coming to dinner. My emotions are all over the place. I’m so angry with my father and perplexed by my mother, that my concentration is shot. All I know is that tonight will be the last time I’ll socialize with my father outside of the office. I just can’t do this anymore.

  I vaguely pay attention to the conversation that Baker is having with Daniella and my father. Apparently, she’s some sort of social media influencer and has been approached by a large company to work with them. She’s concerned she’s going to be scammed so we’re going to do some work for her.

  The food is exceptional, and I’ve tried to listen without contributing or allowing my face to show my thoughts. I just don’t understand how someone who is in her early twenties and has no formal education, has an offer for someone to buy “her” because of her content. Sounds like they’re trying to buy her physical attributes, which seems quite fishy to me.

  “I’ve tried to keep quiet, but I have one question. Based on my understanding, Daniella, you’ve got your own money, so what do you see in my father? A man forty-something years older than you?”

  I watch my fa
ther lean over, kiss her temple and slide his arm behind her. My heart drops when he does that. All the years I’ve been alive, I don’t recall my father showing that kind of kindness to me. The way he looks at her tells me that he adores her. He’s never looked at me that way.

  “I understand that you don’t want to like me, Sutton. I’m not here to make friends with you. Would I like for us to be able to get along? Absolutely, but my main concern is taking care of myself and my business. I didn’t ask your father to love me or care about me, but he does, and I will not turn away the love of a good man.”

  I inadvertently let out a huge snort. I should be embarrassed but I’m not. What I’m concerned about is the look Baker is giving me. He slides his chair back, getting up in one fluid motion and walking over to my chair. He bends down and whispers in my ear, “Get up right now and come with me.”

  “Excuse us, John. We need a moment.”

  Baker offers me his hand and I wish he was taking me to a dance floor instead of to a dark room to yell at me. We meander through the hallways and find a room that has the door open with a slight glow emanating from it. He stops and pulls me inside and the door closes behind us with a loud click.

  A shiver runs down my spine. I’m not scared of Baker at all, but I’m overwhelmed with a myriad of emotions that I can’t identify. Anger. Frustration. Elation. Sadness and so much more.

  “Sutton,” Baker says, placing and finger under my chin and tipping it up. “Why are you being such a brat tonight?”