wanted to buy out the entire two blocks of land where Aunt Sadie’s Café had resided for forty years, along with the other small neighboring businesses, was a headache she most definitely didn’t need.
Just the thought of her last exchange with Brandan Walters created an instant knot of tension at the back of her head. Damn him.
Leila blew a tired breath of air, and blindly reached for the ever ready bottle of Motrin in the middle of her console near the gear shift.
She couldn’t let Aunt Sadie’s fold, and she was damned if she’d sell it out to the highest bidder. That was not going to happen. She had to make Aunt Sadie’s a success; it was all she had left of her great-aunt.
The memories of the two of them working side by side for years, from the time she was a small child and then came to live with Sadie were ones Leila cherished, and no amount of money would lure her into selling the property.
She’d worked day in and day out at the business, along with her small, overworked staff, in order keep the business afloat after Aunt Sadie died. Leila had let things slide then, but felt guilty when she’d climbed out of her grief long enough to see what had happened to the business. She became more determined than ever to see it successful.
And damn if she was going to allow another greedy, self-absorbed conglomeration steal her dreams for the café.
Her great-aunt, the indomitable Aunt Sadie the café was named for, started the business forty years ago, and had lovingly created such delicious meals that the small diner had grown and prospered. When Leila graduated from culinary school, she’d joined her great-aunt, and the two expanded the café to include a catering business.
Her great-aunt was not only a great chef, but was also an astute businesswoman. Leila had been excited about their new ideas, and the pair began to make plans for expansion. They started talks with the shop owner next door, Mr. Gomez, who was ready to retire, about buying his shop. Plans included remodeling the café and adding to the menu some of the more exotic dishes that Leila had become expert at creating, as well as teaching their small staff some of the culinary skills she’d learned in school.
All of that had come to a screeching halt when Sadie had suffered a stroke. After her stroke, she’d had rehab, and although she had to take it easier, she’d rebounded and joined Leila back in the business. Then, everything had been going fine until her great-aunt had suffered more back-to-back strokes that had ultimately proved fatal.
Leila had been lost without Sadie.
Her great-aunt had raised her from infancy after her parents died in a car accident. Sadie had been the only mother, the only family, she’d ever known. Without her, Leila was alone and grief stricken, and the business had suffered.
It had taken reading one of her aunt’s old notes she’d found folded in her favorite Bible while clearing out the old dusty attic, to finally allow the pain of her loss to be relieved.
Sadie had always had some quip, always said the right thing at the right time to make Leila feel better. Leila had been going through her things when she’d found her personal black Bible, and opening it, she found a letter Sadie had written to her. In the note she’d written a simple passage that had allowed the tears to flow from Leila’s eyes, the pent-up emotions she’d held in check for so long to have free reign, and in doing so, her healing had begun.
Leila, baby, you’ve been my joy. Without you my life would not have been as rich or as blessed as it has been. Now I know you’re probably sad, crying, and carrying on, girl…stop those tears. I still want my grandbabies and won’t no man want to look at you all red in the face, eyes all swollen, snot running down your nose, if you keep on with all that!
Through her tears, Leila had laughed out loud at Sadie’s words. Swallowing her tears and wiping her face with the back of her sleeve, she’d continued reading.
There is “a time to weep and a time to laugh; a time to mourn and a time to dance.” I’m not going to quote the rest, because I raised you right and I know you know the passage. Baby, the best thing you can do for your auntie is live and enjoy your life, make Aunt Sadie’s all we knew it could be, and find a good man! You do all that, and know that your mama—cause you know you’re like my very own baby, the child of my heart—is smiling down at you, happy that her baby is living her life the way I taught her to. And don’t forget my grandbabies!
By the end of the note, the tears had gradually come to an end, and Leila was smiling. She’d groaned and laughed when she read the last line, carefully refolded the note, and tucked it back into the worn old Bible, determined to honor her great-aunt’s request.
“All except that last line,” Leila murmured out loud as she maneuvered in the heavy traffic. “I don’t see that happening anytime soon. Auntie Sadie, I need a man for that, and the ones I’ve come across lately definitely don’t bring out any maternal longings in me.”
When she noticed the traffic easing, she sighed in relief, downshifted her gears, and switched lanes, seeing her exit coming up ahead.
“Hell, I once took a woman to a lake for a good time with a sack lunch and a smile, and when it was time to get down with it…let’s just say that the young lady was nice and wet…and not from the lake, if you catchin’ what I’m throwin’ you, girl,” the caller Andre guffawed, still on the air with Carmelicious.
Leila put her thoughts of Aunt Sadie and the woes of her business out of her mind, a small grin stretching her mouth as she listened to Carmelicious’s caller.
“Oh, God…no, he didn’t,” Leila groaned, her attention divided between the hellacious traffic and the nut job on the radio who didn’t know Carmelicious was about to serve him his balls on the proverbial platter.
“Oh, yeah, Andre, I do indeed get what you throwing me, playa,” the disc jockey laughed lightly. “Tell me more.” Carmelicious encouraged the man, her voice still low, sexy, and totally in control.
As though what the caller was saying didn’t bother her in the least.
As though she wasn’t about to lower the boom. As though she wasn’t seconds away from letting him have it.
“You’re about to get schooled, dude,” Leila murmured out loud. The traffic eased and she pressed her foot on the accelerator and shifted the gear stick, finally able to pass the accident, and sped along the highway.
The man didn’t know what he had coming, had no idea what he’d gotten himself into. Leila picked up the remote and tapped one of her short nail tips on the small button to raise the volume on her car radio.
“What would you call a nice time? Hmmm…why don’t you tell Carmelicious about this park date, about what you did to get her all nice and wet. Hmmm? I’m listening, Boo.” Her voice practically oozed sugar and sweetness as she handed poor Andre the rope to hang himself.
And she called him Boo.
Leila made a tsk sound and shook her head.
Whenever Carmelicious called one of the hapless males that called into the show Boo, it wasn’t an endearment.
This was going to get ugly.
Leila reached down and moved the lever on the side of the seat, and eased herself back. Might as well get comfortable and watch—or listen, as the case may be—to the upcoming train wreck. She lightly rested her hands on her Jeep
