Chapter 47
EVE
Mr. Hyport opened the front door of his home himself considering the place was fancy enough for a butler. Or two. From the street, it was three stories, stucco, consistent with turn of the century San Francisco architecture. This street, specifically their side, rested on a cliff above the bay.
“Welcome!” he said, a broad smile on his face. The man was in his sixties, dressed in dark corduroys and a checked button-up shirt. Sharp eyes met mine, but they held warmth.
With Silas at my side and his hand on the small of my back, he ushered us inside.
“Remember, I’m getting you naked after this,” he whispered in my ear as Mr. Hyport took our coats.
I shivered and pasted a smile on my face. I couldn’t believe he said that to me.
Now.
Except maybe not.
We met in the hotel lobby as planned. When he saw me, he stopped in his tracks and looked me over, from my black heels to the top of my as-best-as-I-could styled hair.
“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he’d said, cupping my cheek and kissing me. Lavishly, right there in the middle of the lobby.
“Silas,” I’d whispered, a little embarrassed by his blatant show of affection.
He pulled back, but only slightly. “What? Now you don’t want people to see us?”
I blushed as he continued. “See that couch over there?” He pointed to one with a potted palm beside it. “I want to bend you over it and fuck you, make everyone eyeing my beautiful wife know that she’s all mine. That I’m the one who will satisfy her. Make her scream.”
Yeah, he’d said that, then led me to a waiting car. Panties wet. Nipples hard. Horny.
“My wife, Eve,” Silas said, introducing me to Mr. Hyport.
“Sir, nice to meet you,” I said when he took my hand next.
“Robert. Ah, here’s Kathleen.”
He turned at his wife’s approach.
I had gone shopping for a dinner outfit because I’d had no choice.
I’d had to wash my panties in the sink and use the hairdryer on them to be able to leave the room.
The concierge directed me to an amazing shopping area, and I’d found a few casual items to hold me over, but also the dress and heels I wore now.
I didn’t really like my mother very much, but I had to admit, she prepared me well for a moment like this. I knew the outfit required to meet a corporate CEO and I’d bought it. With my own money.
“I’m so glad you’re both here,” she replied.
In a pair of black pants and a white blouse–untucked–she looked effortless and casual.
Her hair fell to her shoulders in a sleek, simple style.
She wore thick black glasses like Bridget’s.
She gave off a warm, effortless air and I liked her immediately.
“Robert has been so busy with this deal that I haven’t seen him as much as I like.
I’m sure you feel the same way,” she said to me.
I nodded, although I was suddenly unsure of myself. What did they think of me? That I was a horny hussy who did video sex with her husband while he was out of town?
“It smells amazing. Is that… garlic bread?” I asked, falling back on compliments.
She grinned. “You have a good nose. Yes, along with lasagna.”
“Kathleen is an amazing cook,” Robert said, patting his stomach. While I wouldn’t say he had washboard abs beneath his shirt, he was fit for his age.
“He married me for my pasta,” she said, glancing fondly at her husband.
“Is there anything I can help you with?” I asked.
She came over, hooked my arm in hers and led me deeper into the house. “You can put ice in the glasses while I make the salad dressing. While we do, you must tell me where you found those wonderful earrings.”
I glanced over my shoulder at Silas, who winked.
The kitchen was as big and shiny and amazing as I expected, but I didn’t pay it too much attention.
I went to the floor to ceiling windows and looked out.
The light was fading fast on the stunning view of the water and the cliffs and the focal point, the Golden Gate Bridge.
The mountains were spectacular in Hunter Valley, but this?
The bridge was amazing the way it glowed red in the distance, that–
“I never get tired of the view,” Kathleen said from somewhere behind me. “We bought this house thirty-five years ago. You should have seen it then.” She laughed, clearly remembering. “There was a raccoon family living on the second floor.”
I turned, wide eyed. “Did you kick them out?”
She was at the counter with the things she needed for her dressing spread out.
“I should say we have a guest bedroom for them, but one look at me and Robert and they fled.”
I joined her at the counter. “Oh, the ice.”
She pointed to a tray with goblets and then the fridge with a built-in icemaker.
“That was a long time ago. We’ve had five children since then and four of them have children.”
I carried the tray and set it next to the fridge, glanced at her over my shoulder. “You are good examples for them.”
She cocked her head, smiled, as she held a bottle of olive oil. “I hope so. You and Silas are just starting your lives together. What fun.”
I nodded, then pressed one glass into the dispenser for ice.
When I traded glasses, she continued. “I’ve met Silas a few times. He’s such a nice man. And handsome.”
I grinned. Blushed. “I think so.”
“That’s important, too. The heat.”
I filled another glass.
“You two met when he visited his brothers in Montana.”
“That’s right.”
“Silas also tells us–”
“He’s told you quite a bit,” I said, surprised.
She pushed her glasses up. “Of course he has. Especially about you and that you run a coffee shop! What hard work.”
“Yes, it’s called Steaming Hotties.”
Her eyes sparkled and she pointed a garlic press at me. “I love it! What fun. Tell me more.”
So I told her as I filled the other two glasses, then leaned against the counter and watched as she pulled together a vinaigrette, then poured it over a salad in a large wooden bowl.
“Pink t-shirts?” she asked. “Oh, I must have one.”
“You want to wear one of my shirts?” I asked, completely surprised.
She tucked her hair behind her ear, then went to the wall oven to peek inside.
“Why wouldn’t I?”
She grabbed oven mitts and pulled out a tray with garlic bread.
“Well, um…”
I didn’t want to tell her my mother wouldn’t be caught dead in a t-shirt, my store or not, and definitely not a pink one.
She set the tray on a wooden cutting board, then yanked off the mitts.
“You will send me one, and for my two daughters as well. The perfect stocking stuffers for next month, don’t you think?”
I could only nod because my throat was clogged with tears. Ridiculous, but she wanted my t-shirts. She was interested in my shop. She was interested in me, just as I was.
The men came in then, Silas coming to my side and kissing the top of my head. “Okay?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
“That tray of lasagna has been sitting there for thirty minutes. Don’t make me wait any longer,” Robert said, going to it and peeking beneath the foil.
Kathleen laughed and smacked his hand, then passed him the oven mitts. “It had to rest.”
He carried the dish to the table and said, “Eat your fill, Silas. When Kathleen cooks, I’m on dish duty and you will be too since your wife helped. This happens every night because I can’t cook.”
“I’ll have you, Eve, make the coffee later since you’re the expert,” Kathleen said.
“Eve told you about her shop?” Silas asked Kathleen. It seemed he wanted to make sure the woman knew about me and my business.
“Oh yes. She’s sending me a t-shirt.”
Silas laughed. “My brother wears one. I think it’s his favorite shirt. You should see the place, Robert. It’s busy all the time. Eve’s made a deal to stock the James Inn in Hunter Valley and we hope to add the other inns around the country next year.”
I blinked. We did?
“Impressive,” Robert added, giving me a smile that only looked… proud. He took a slice of garlic bread and passed the plate to Silas.
“We’ll need to work with the distributor for a larger supply, but Eve has plans with them in Costa Rica.”
“Maybe another honeymoon. I’m sure after the blizzard you just had you’d like somewhere warm,” Kathleen suggested, using a spatula to put a huge portion of lasagna on a plate and handing it to Silas.
“Good thinking,” he replied. “We can go there and–”
“No more talking business at the table,” Kathleen advised, plating another section of lasagna. “Although I thought I’d have to warn you two off about the buyout, not Eve cornering the coffee market.”
Cornering the coffee market? With a huge smile, Kathleen handed me the plate and I set it in front of me.
What was happening? Did Silas say we? That we’ll need to work with the distributor? That we hope to add other inns?
We?
Steaming Hotties was mine. My shop. My dream.
But now, it was Silas’s, too?
Oh shit. It was. When we married, Steaming Hotties belonged to him as well.
What had I done? I needed him as my husband to get control of my trust, but I obviously hadn’t thought that through.
Not with Cheney pestering me. Now he had control of my business, which was something Cheney never had.
Steaming Hotties was small. Barely making a profit.
Yet he had plans for it. Big ones, based off the way he was talking.
Was he taking it over, just like he was Hyport Hotels?
Oh God. Had I let another man take control?