Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
N yla snuggled deeper into her heavy coat as she trudged up the walkway to her parents’ three-story bed and breakfast. The Chicago Greystone, with its Italian architectural style was gorgeous inside and out and had seven-bedroom suites, a huge eat-in kitchen, dining room, living room, and a library. If that wasn’t enough, there was a two-bedroom, two-bathroom innkeeper’s cottage directly behind it where her parents lived.
Jogging up the concrete stairs, Nyla entered the enclosed foyer of the B & B. When she opened the interior door, she was immediately greeted with an aroma of something savory and sweet. Hopefully, it was French toast because she could already envision eating the thick slices of sweet bread that tasted of vanilla, cinnamon, whip cream, and maple syrup.
She was getting hungrier just thinking about the delicious treat. Her youngest sister, Dorian, was a master in the kitchen, even if she hadn’t had formal training. No matter what she’d prepared, it was guaranteed to be good.
Setting her bag down, Nyla took off her gloves, hat, and scarf, surprised there was no one at the front desk. She could see the wide stairs that led to the second and third floors, a long hallway to the side of the guest desk and living room to her right. In there, the brick fireplace had a fire going, but no one appeared to be in the room. Besides voices coming from the kitchen, the building was quiet.
Nyla made quick work of shedding her coat, and as she stored the items in the coat closet, she heard footsteps tapping against the hardwood floors. Then her mother appeared from the back of the house where the kitchen was located.
Virginia Priestly, dressed in a nice sweater and pants set with her hair piled on top of her head, was the ultimate hostess. She always greeted everyone with a smile, and it was impossible not to smile back. Some of the stress that Nyla had been carrying around for the last couple of days began melting away.
“Hi, baby. You look tired,” her mother said as she wrapped her into a hug.
“Hey, Mom.” Nyla’s voice was muffled as she held on tightly.
She closed her eyes and breathed in her mother’s comforting scent. She was always baking, either for their B & B guests or for the family, and she often smelled like fresh baked bread or something sweet.
“Thanks for the hug. It was just what I needed,” Nyla said as she stepped out of her mother’s embrace. “I’m surprised you’re not at the cottage resting up before you guys start dinner.”
“We had a full house this morning and fell behind schedule. Now that everyone is out and about the city, we’re playing catch up. I’m glad you stopped by. Dorian is in the kitchen, and your brother said he was going to stop by during one of his breaks. Are you hungry?”
“Definitely.”
They started toward the kitchen, but then the front desk phone rang.
“Go on back. Your sister is baking, and I’m sure there’s still some breakfast left.”
Nyla stopped at the half bath and washed her hands before going to the kitchen.
“Hey, sis. It smells amazing in here,” Nyla said, giving her little sister a quick hug, and then smirked at the apron she was wearing that read, I know what I’m doing. I watched a YouTube video .
“Hey yourself. I’m glad you’re here, so you can help eat up the rest of this French toast. You might want to grab what you want now. You know once your greedy brother gets here he’ll eat everything.”
Dorian, who was two years younger, had a slightly lighter skin tone, but she and Nyla were often mistaken for twins. They were the same height and size, but Dorian usually wore her hair in long braids.
She had recently started working for the B & B full time after deciding she needed to part ways from her marketing job. Their parents were thrilled to have one of their children help with the operations of the bed and breakfast. Last Nyla heard, Dorian planned to take over the business once their parents retired, which they’d been talking about more and more lately.
“I’m glad I got here before Zion,” Nyla said as she prepared a plate, happy to see there were sausages, breakfast potatoes, and fruit to go along with the French toast. She hadn’t eaten since the night before, and even then, it had only been finger food at the club.
Lack of food might be why she’d been dealing with a low-grade headache since she woke up. That and maybe the stress of realizing she was still twenty-three thousand dollars short of Gordon’s asking price for the club.
The one thing she didn’t want to do was take out a loan to buy the business, but it looked like she might have to take out a small one after all. At least her credit was solid, and she shouldn’t have a problem getting it, but she couldn’t stop thinking about Cree’s words from the other day. If Nyla spent her life savings on the business, what would she live on?
Don’t give up , a small voice in the back of her mind said.
There were still a few months for a miracle to happen, and since she still believed in them, she’d hope for the best. Currently, her only other option, other than taking out a loan, was to get some of her family to invest.
She shook her head. Nope, she wasn’t going that route, and she was going to stop worrying. Starting now.
“Where’s Dad?” Nyla asked as she sat at the table. Her father loved staying busy, and knowing him, he was probably somewhere in the house repairing something.
“He was in here a few minutes ago.” Dorian grabbed oven mitts and removed what looked like blueberry muffins from the oven. “He’s probably working on his to-do list, which he claims is long enough for three people to tackle. Of course, when Mom suggests he hire help, he insists he doesn’t need any.”
“That sounds like him.”
Nyla squinted against the sunlight pouring through the open blinds and right into her eyes. She stood and closed them, and before she reclaimed her seat, her brother Zion strolled into the kitchen.
At six-feet tall and decked out in his police uniform and a dark blue wool beanie pulled low over his eyes, he looked fierce and intimidating. Nyla hated that he was a cop, risking his life to keep the city safe, but from a young age, Zion had proven he’d been born to protect others. That had a lot to do with why he had joined the Marines right out of high school. After leaving the military, he returned to Chicago and became a cop.
“Hey, Peanut,” she said, using the nickname he hated, and before she could scurry away from him, he put her in a headlock. She burst out laughing and tried to wiggle free, which was fruitless.
“What’s up, little sis?” he said before eventually releasing her.
She swatted his arm and scowled. “You do know I’m older than you, right?” She was four years older, and at twenty-nine, Zion was the baby of the group.
“I know, but you’re also shorter,” he said and greeted Dorian the same way.
“If you want what I’ve cooked, I suggest you unhand me boy,” Dorian said between giggles as she playfully punched him in the arm.
Once Zion prepared his plate, and Dorian poured coffee for all of them, they joined Nyla at the table. Small talk flowed between them as they played catch up with each other’s lives. Unlike some families, they didn’t meet up at a set time every week to eat together, but they were all very close. Nyla knew without a doubt that, if anyone needed the other, they were only a phone call away.
“Nyla, I’m glad you stopped by,” their mother said when she strolled into the kitchen. “There’s someone I want you to meet.”
“ Mom ,” Nyla groaned and had to stop herself from whimpering.
She should’ve gone straight to the club. She didn’t realize her mother was still on her matchmaking mission determined to see them all married sooner rather than later.
“Not interested,” Nyla said around a mouthful of food.
“All I ask is that you meet him.” Her mother leaned on the back of one of the kitchen chairs. “That’s it. He’s a nice, handsome young man. He’s new to the city, smart, funny, creative, and he has a good job. Oh, and did I mention he’s a cutie-pie? I think you two would be perfect for each other.”
Nyla glanced at Dorian. She had gone back to the large center island where she’d been whipping up another batch of muffins. Nyla didn’t miss the way her sister kept her head down while trying not to laugh. That meant she’d probably suggested Nyla for whatever their mother was cooking up.
“Why me? You have three other daughters, two who are older and unmarried. Why are you asking me? Oh, and you also have a son who you can matchmake. I’m sure he’d love that,” she said pointedly, looking at Zion.
“I’m not in this. So keep my name out of your mouth,” he said.
Their mother ignored them and kept talking. She rattled off one reason after another of why she thought Nyla would be perfect for the guy. Nyla had to admit, the man did sound intriguing, but instead of saying that, she said, “I’m not interested, Mom, but thanks. And would you look at the time? I should’ve been gone.”
Dorian snorted but then tried covering the sound with a cough.
Zion didn’t bother trying to hide his laughter.
“You all laugh, but I’m tired of being invited to my friends’ kid’s weddings or hearing how they have another grandchild on the way,” their mother grumbled. “I didn’t go through a thousand hours of labor to bring the five of you into the world to be treated like this. I should have more grandkids by now!”
Nyla tried not to laugh, but she couldn’t hold it in. “ Mom , why are you being so extra today?”
“ Today ?” Dorian said, still cracking up. “This is a daily occurrence of her bringing up the subject. And she’s so busy that when more grandkids do come along, she’ll probably be too busy to even babysit.”
“I won’t! I promise I’ll babysit whenever I’m needed. Try me,” their mother insisted. “Okay, so Nyla. What day would be good for…”
“I can’t. I’m already seeing someone,” Nyla bit out, then immediately regretted saying anything. Three sets of eyes were looking at her, and she already knew the questions would start flying thanks to her little white lie.
But was it really a lie?
While she worked at Telecom, she and Harrison had gotten to know each other. Sort of. And though it might’ve been over a week ago when he kissed her and gave her a ride home, that had to count for something. Right? Not only that, but he had also left her a voice message to thank her for lunch the other day. Surely, that meant they were sorta kinda seeing each other. Even if she still hadn’t talked to him because she’d gotten his voicemail when she returned his call.
“What?” she said defensively as her family continued to stare. “Y’all act like I can’t get a man.”
“We’re not saying that, dear,” her mother said soothingly, though she didn’t look convinced. “But you haven’t brought anyone around, and—”
“What’s his name?” Zion interrupted, looking at her through narrowed eyes.
“None of your business. No way am I telling you anything just so you can run a background check on him.” Nyla stood with her empty plate.
As the words about the background check left her mouth, she remembered what Harrison had said about going to prison for murder. She still didn’t know the details, and considering how he’d been avoiding her and the club, she might never know. And she didn’t want Zion or anyone else digging into Harrison’s background.
“You know what? Fine!” their mother snapped and mock pouted. “You don’t have to make up lies just to get out of going on a blind date. I’ll just get used to the fact that I might never have more grandkids.”
Nyla rolled her eyes and caught her siblings doing the same as their mother went on and on. They’d heard the speech a million times, could probably recite it word-for-word while also adding the defeated expressions she was making.
Dorian was right. It did seem like their mother was on them even more than usual about settling down and having a family. It probably had a lot to do with Nyla’s nephew being seventeen and preparing to go to college in the fall.
Her oldest sister, Essence, had been a teen mom, giving their parents their one and only grandchild. So far, it didn’t seem like any of the others were interested in adding to that number.
After hanging out a little while longer at the B & B, Nyla headed to the club. Mentioning Harrison earlier to her family, without actually giving them a name, had her thinking about him. Something she’d been doing a lot of despite trying not to.
She hadn’t seen him, but she hoped that maybe he’d stop by Moody Days sometime in the near future.
A girl could hope.