Southern Seduction ; Pleasure in His Arms Page 2

  “In person or as a hologram?” someone asked out loud.

  Kit half grinned. “I’d prefer in person.”

  “Do you think she would?” Uncle Samuel, Kit’s brother, flattened his hands on the conference table. “Do it, I mean. She’s scaled back her social media presence, and when she posts, there’s no record of her location. Does anyone know how to reach her?”

  “I may,” Caden blurted out. The moment everyone turned to face him, he regretted speaking up. Brows shot up on everyone’s faces around the conference table. Kofi spun on his feet. “I said I may. Let me do some digging and get back with you.”

  The screen paused with Maggie’s beautifully freckled face on the screen as the conference call ended. Light filtered through her naturally red hair. And her smile, damn. Still stole his heart.

  “I take it you know her?” Kofi asked him.

  Never one to kiss and tell, Caden briefly glanced up. His index finger stroked the screen on his phone.

  “Dude, we have to do this for Mama Kit,” Kofi announced.

  Caden squinted his eyes. “Not that I wouldn’t do anything for her, but why are you so gung-ho?”

  “Isn’t it obvious?” Kofi scoffed as if Caden were stupid. “She’s retiring.”

  “What?” Caden chuckled and sat back in his seat. “She’s been running that pageant for years. Fifty, to be exact.”

  Kofi shook his head. “Do you hear yourself? She’s given everyone a specific task. I bet whoever can accomplish the goals will get her seat.” He held up his finger to silence Caden. “What better way to expand A&O than with the talented ladies from a beauty pageant? We keep taking on new sports clients, shoveling out the retiring ones to Hollywood. Taking on a singer or budding actress can really turn the page for us. And if that doesn’t entice you, how about your dislike for your brothers?”

  “I don’t dislike them.”

  “Which is why you’re at my house every Christmas?”

  Caden shrugged. “I love my godsons.”

  “And they love you, too. We all do in my house, which is why I know you wouldn’t want to see Chase, Heath or Jason running Mama Kit’s beloved pageant into the ground, or worse, making the other pageant scandals pale in comparison.”

  Besides being shamed, directors and other staffers were put out of work when some of the pageants shut down entirely.

  The people working for his mother had been around for a while, some for all five decades. They worked endlessly to put on a great event that helped women move into jobs in television, modeling, news and more. It wouldn’t be fair to see staff put out of work if the pageant were harmed.

  “That’s not fair.”

  “It’s business, Caden,” Kofi reminded him. “Save your mom’s legacy or let it crash and burn.”

  “Of course I don’t want to see it die down.”

  “Then go find that girl so we can take over the pageant and expand our brand.”

  * * *

  The bell above the glass doors of The Cupcakery jingled for the umpteenth time this today—as expected. A flash of bright sunshine spread on the black and white tiles of the floor. Hungry residents of Southwood, Georgia, clad in bright-colored flip-flops—the silver slipper of the South—shifted patiently in a line in front of the counter. Folks huddled around the pink high-top tables or filled the black leather booths with the checkered tablecloths. Even the bay windows on either side of the front door were filled with a set of readers while they sipped their coffee and waited. Today was the first day of the month, which meant the release of a new cupcake: the Southern butter pecan hummingbird. And it was all Maggie Swayne’s. She hadn’t felt prouder in months. This must be the feeling her beloved father meant when he announced he was cutting her off.

  Apparently people frowned upon someone being almost thirty without a career and still receiving an allowance. Not only had her father, Mitchell Swayne, repossessed her Jag, Miami condo and unlimited credit cards, he’d given her the worst ultimatum: if she didn’t find and hold a full-time job for six weeks, he was going to postpone the release of her trust fund for another ten years until she turned forty.

  The family owned Swayne’s Pecan Orchard, and it wasn’t like the company was threatened with a pecan glut sending prices down. This was the South. Everything had a pecan in it somewhere.

  Being the apple of her father’s eye, Maggie had managed to bargain for a chance. Her father gave Maggie until her thirtieth birthday to get her life together. Haute Tips, Maggie’s vlog, didn’t qualify as a sustainable career. While looking for a full-time gig that would last six weeks, Maggie took up a part-time one at The Cupcakery, which in the beginning had just provided some spending money but after a few weeks gave her enjoyment, too. She liked the people she worked with and the labor itself. If things went well with the success of this cupcake Maggie had created, she might secure a full-time job as a pastry chef for the next six weeks. Besides, if she did get her cupcake featured on a website the owner was targeting, Maggie could win a prize, with well-deserved prize money she planned on using for an upcoming family trip to New Orleans. But the deadline for posting these photos was fast approaching.

  Needless to say, Maggie was focused. She incorporated fresh crushed pecans from Swayne’s Pecan Orchard to help create a twist on the traditional cupcake. Not only did she press fresh crushed pecans to make a half inch siding around the rim of the rich cream cheese frosting, Maggie crowned the cupcake with a tiara made of thin slices of fresh pineapple dried until the edges curled upwards into the shape of a flower. The beautiful desserts barely had time to stay in the display case. All she needed was one good picture of the cupcake to send to the Dessert Historian website, and she and The Cupcakery would be set for unlimited publicity. She only had a few minutes left before her window of opportunity closed to get the perfect picture posted.

  So when the tiny brass bell over the door jingled again, Maggie hollered out she’d be with them in a moment. Her hands shook. She just needed to crown the golden cupcake with the flower at the right angle of perfection. Her helper today, Tiffani Carres, was on a break. A rather long break.

  “It’s okay, darlin’, I’ve got all the time in the world to wait for you.”

  Without looking up from positioning the sweetened flower, Maggie knew without a doubt that slow Southern drawl oozed from a pair of full lips like melted caramel on a man she could have sworn she’d never lay eyes on again. Heart racing, Maggie puckered her mouth together to keep from grinning. Most women would be gushing into a puddle if a man like Caden Archibald came in here, all slick and charming with his Southern accent. Not her. The man had basically had a one-night stand with her eleven years ago, then left without saying so much as goodbye. But damn, the time they’d had together was fun. Caden raised the bar for other men in her bed.

  “I can tell by the deep dimples popping up on those beautiful cheekbones that you are trying to recall all the reasons you have for being upset with me but can’t.”

  If he flattered her one more time with that bedroom voice of his, Maggie might jump over the counter and cover his body with icing.

  “Caden Archibald,” Maggie returned the greeting with her Southwood Southern drawl matching his Savannah tone. “Of all the cupcake joints...”

  Before she got the chance to finish, Caden held his hand in the air. Gold cuff links caught the lighting of the afternoon sun beaming in through the glass door. Always impeccably dressed, Caden wore a pair of light blue slacks with a darker blue blazer over a blue-and-white-striped shirt. The yellow tie offered the perfect amount of pop. Damn, it was like he stepped off the runway at men’s week—another social media event she no longer attended.

  “Save it, Magnolia.”

  “Maggie,” she corrected him. “I gather after eleven years of radio silence you may have forgotten what I prefer.”

  Caden stepped farther into the shop.
Out of the corner of her eye, Maggie watched the lady patrons salivate for the second time—the first for the cupcakes and the second for the man. She couldn’t blame them.

  “Oh, I know exactly what you prefer. Grab that icing and I’ll show you what I remember.”

  A lady at the counter suffocated her laugh into the icing as she eavesdropped on the conversation. Maggie shot her a glare.

  “All right, Caden,” she said.

  “I only honored your wish,” Caden explained. He stepped closer to the decorating station, leaving a trail of women checking out his backside. “If I recall correctly, you wanted no strings attached.”

  Maggie tilted her head and remembered the white chef’s hat hiding her hair. Thank god she looked cute in the thing. “I didn’t expect you to honor them.”

  “I am an honorable man,” said Caden, raising a thick brow.

  Snorting, Maggie shook her head. “Caden Archibald and honorable do not go together.”

  “You wound me.” Caden clutched his heart with his right hand and then his left. He wore no rings. But even if he did marry, somehow Maggie didn’t think he’d flaunt such an advertisement on his fingers.

  “Whatever,” Maggie replied. “You’re keeping me from my work. What will you have?”

  One of his thick black eyebrows rose, and his tongue darted out to lick his bottom lip while he stroked his chin. Shocked at his audacity, Maggie gasped. “Oh my God, are you seriously this childish?”

  Caden put his hand in the air for surrender. “What? You’re the one who asked the question.”

  Thankfully Tiffani reappeared from the back French doors. “All right, I’m back,” she said cheerfully and then added, as her head did a double take, “Well damn, hello.”

  “Hello,” said Caden.

  Maggie didn’t bother turning around to face her coworker and the daughter of the owner of the shop. “Tiffani, this is...”

  “Caden Archibald, sports agent.” It didn’t surprise Maggie that Tiffani knew Caden’s career. At one point in her life, Tiffani had made plans to be in the WNBA, but a knee injury waylaid her.

  “Sports and entertainment agent,” Caden confirmed. “I need to make sure my clients are represented on the field and off.”

  Tiffani sidled up to Maggie and elbowed her in the ribs. “So speaking of playing the field...”

  “We weren’t,” Maggie clarified. “Caden is an old acquaintance.”

  Caden stroked his chin again, bringing attention to a perfectly groomed goatee. “Acquaintances now?”

  “Clearly,” Tiffani began, her eyes darting between the two of them, “you both need a moment together to bump that status up to at least friends.”

  Maggie shook her head from side to side. “I have to get this photo uploaded.” She pointed toward the bakery-themed clock above the front door with a plate for a face and a spoon and fork for the hands. “I don’t have a lot of time.”

  “I can handle uploading a photo,” said Tiffani. She picked up the camera on the counter.

  Caden however, nodded in agreement. “I think that’s a great idea. Maggie, this will only take a moment.”

  “I’m busy.” Maggie fanned her hands at the glass display then the crowd.

  To be ornery, Tiffani pushed Maggie’s arm down. “It’s time for your break. I’ve got this. You forget, I was raised up in here.”

  Scoffing, Maggie rolled her eyes while she untied her black-and-white gingham apron. “Fine, follow me.”

  “You know,” Caden said, trailing Maggie through the kitchen, “I am beginning to get the feeling you don’t want to talk to me.”

  “What is there to talk about, Caden?” She stopped just short of the screen doors that led to the back alley, where a constant cool breeze always flowed between the bakery and the bookstore behind them.

  With a smirk, his dark almond-shaped eyes glanced around the kitchen, veering to the counters and the ceiling, where even Maggie spied a few splatters of batter. The kitchen was a mess. Metal bowls were everywhere. Paper cupcake liners sprinkled the floor near where she’d bumped into the back table earlier today. A steady drip flowed from the faucet of the deep sink filled with more dishes.

  When their eyes met, Maggie shrugged off her embarrassment with a shake of her head, causing her chef’s hat to shift to the side. She grabbed the toque and kept it in her hand. “What? You have to crack a few eggs in order to make a masterpiece.”

  “It certainly was a beautiful cupcake.” A bit of humor hung in his deep voice.

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “Why do I get the feeling you have something funny to say?”

  “I’m just remembering a time when you didn’t know the recipe for strawberry milk.”

  Maggie waved her hand. “Eons ago. Why are you here?”

  “Not much for the small talk these days?”

  “Caden,” Maggie said with a long drawled-out sigh, “have I mentioned I don’t have time for this? I’m busy these days.”

  “Busy doing what? Baking cupcakes?”

  “Welp, goodbye.” It was better to walk away from Caden now before he sweet-talked her out of her panties right here in the back of the bakery. Best if she used whatever reason possible, too.

  “Maggie,” Caden pleaded and reached for her elbow. “I didn’t mean to make baking sound bad.”

  “What were you implying?” she asked, her shoulders squared as she did a head toss to flip her hair off her shoulders.

  “I mean one moment you’re gracing the stage of my mother’s beauty pageant—” he began before she cut him off.

  “And her son’s bed.”

  Caden gave a short head nod. “Wait, are you supposed to be mad at me for what happened between us?”

  A flash of lightning struck in her heart. Was she?

  Stroking his thumb against her skin, Caden’s dark eyes beamed down on her. “I followed your wishes. Was I wrong?”

  Maggie pulled her arm away and avoided his eye contact. She wanted to be the independent tough girl who never regretted her decisions. Biting her lip, she rolled her eyes before facing him again. Suddenly images popped into her head, with them standing here like this, inches apart. A wedding day at a church altar, on the front steps of a hospital with a newborn tucked in a white blanket between them, even them as an elderly couple with gray strands in their hair. With a deep inhale, Maggie averted her eyes to the knot of his tie. Beneath it, his chest rose in the same quick rhythm as hers. Did he see the same thing?

  “Maggie.” Caden breathed her name, reminding her of his whispers against her ears.

  “Can we wrap this up?”

  Caden nodded. “I need you to be in Savannah soon.”

  “Funny,” Maggie laughed without even asking why.

  “I’m serious,” said Caden. “It’s not for me, it’s for Kit.”

  The laughter bubbling in the back of her throat died down. Kit Archibald, Caden’s mother, was the queen of pageant shows. The Southern Style Glitz pageants put beauty queens on the map for success. Contestants often went on to represent their cities in Georgia. Or they went on to the Miss USA, Miss America, Miss World and even the National Sweetheart pageants. Everyone succeeded as a beauty queen except for Maggie. Maggie, a former Miss Southwood, hadn’t won anything other than Miss Congeniality.

  Despite Maggie’s distaste for pageants now, Miss Kit had always been kind to her. “Is everything okay with your mom?” Even though his nod was slow, a sinking feeling washed over her.

  “I think so. She’s requesting certain people attend her meeting. Especially you.”

  Maggie crossed her arms over her chest. “And you came here right away, thinking you would sweep me off my feet?”

  “I am a sports agent, Maggie,” Caden clarified. “I have clients here.”

  Her lips stretched into the shape of an O. Heat c
rept up her neck and with the combination of the late midday sun and the hot oven air, a bead of sweat trickled down her spine. “Well, I’ll have to send your mom my apologies. I can’t make it.”

  “I’m sorry, what?” Caden crossed his arms and leaned forward.

  “I have obligations, Caden,” she replied, fanning her hand toward the bakery. “And speaking of, I need to get this picture uploaded before noon.”

  Caden stepped in her way. “What’s the deal with you and the cupcakes?”

  One of the stipulations placed on her in order to get her trust fund was to keep the deal with her father quiet and off social media. Except for her new budget-friendly advice for socialites on Haute Tips, Maggie had disconnected from the world. Which also meant no one knew what she was up to. Maggie nibbled on her bottom lip for a moment, contemplating telling Caden the embarrassing truth—that she’d been placed on restrictions by her father.

  “I enjoy what I do,” Maggie said truthfully. “People count on me here.”

  “People counted on you in Miami, New York, LA, Milan.”

  Maggie rolled her eyes. “Stalker much?”

  “I can read, Maggie.” Caden chuckled and shoved his hands into his pockets and leaned against the door. “My clients are often at a lot of events you attend. I’ve seen photos and articles about the Pecan Princess.”

  The moniker said out loud evoked an eye roll. “Whatever. I’ve got to get inside. To get this photo posted.”

  “So you won’t come to my mother’s meeting?”

  A piece of Maggie’s heart broke. “I love Kit, Caden, I really do, but I can’t be there Saturday. I can’t walk away from my responsibilities here.”

  Caden’s eyes lit up as his brows rose. “Magnolia and responsibilities... I never thought I’d hear those two words put together.”

  “You said something about being honorable,” Maggie jeered with a squint of her eyes. “I really have to get back inside.”

  Pushing down the lump in her throat, Maggie stomped through the kitchen. Was this what her father meant about never taking responsibility for anything in her life? After eleven years and clearly spying on her via social media, Caden still had one opinion of her. Did everyone else?