Tasty

8. The Sucré Estates

THE SUCRé ESTATES

Rory.

Marlon Sinclair owes me dick.

And I don’t care how that sounds and I don’t care how inappropriate it is.

After the way he took care of me yesterday? The way he handled me and didn’t rush or take advantage.

That part?

I need that.

“Ms. Rodriguez?” A knock came at my door. “Ms. Rodriguez, my name is Todd and I’m the manager on duty. I’m here to do a wellness check at Mr. Sinclair’s request. Are you up and decent?”

After a deep and restful sleep, I stretched under the covers, letting out a slow breath as I blinked up at the ceiling.

“Yes. Come in.”

“I’m sorry, Ms. Rodriguez but Mr. Sinclair wanted—woah!” He shielded his eyes.

I looked down at what made him exclaim to see my robe had become undone.

“Oop!” I tightened it. “My bad, Todd. Don’t expect guests so early. But as you can see I am alive and well.

“Yes.” He kept his eyes shield. “I will let Mr. Sinclair know. He also told me to advise you that the work day starts at nine. A car will be arriving to take you to the office at eight.”

I groaned. Work. “Noted. Thanks, Todd.”

“My pleasure. Let me know if you need anything.”

Then he practically ran out of my room.

Great.

I looked at the clock on the nightstand. Less than an hour to get ready? Marlon might need pussy to calm his ass down too.

My phone was on the nightstand so I grabbed it and immediately winced.

Missed calls and messages. Most from my dad but some were…

I sat up slowly, pulling the covers with me as I hit her name and pressed call. She picked up on the second ring.

“You still pissed at me?” I asked before she could even speak.

“Girl, fuck you,”Orim said instantly. “How’s San Francisco?”

I laughed, dropping back against the pillows. “So you not mad?”

“I am, but I’m also nosey, so talk.”

I rolled onto my side, propping my head up with my hand.

“You first. Did my dad get you in trouble?”

“Rory. You got me in trouble.”

I sucked my teeth.

“And yes you did. Clay’s making me write a letter of apology to the hotel staff and Bosh is taking away the Amex. Your dad said he’d pay for the damages but both of them are docking my weekly allowance for some of the costs.”

“Wow. So generous of Dillon to say he’d pay the bills then ship me here to work it off.”

“Oh, I heard,” she said. “Everyone’s talking about how he finally put his foot down with you. And to ship you off with Marlon of all people. It’s practically a death sentence.”

“Oh please,” I flipped on my back. “It isn’t even like that.”

“Then what is it like?”

I exhaled slowly, thinking about it. About him.

“He’s not so bad,” I said finally.

Orim went quiet for a second.

“…you serious?”

“Yeah.” I frowned slightly, sitting up again. “Like last night when I was feeling… sick. He took care of me. Then this morning he sent over a wellness check. He worries about me. I’ve never had that before.”

“You’ve had men keep you before.”

“That’s not the same,” I said quickly. “They always want something in exchange for being kept. Even when they pretend they don’t.”

“And he didn’t?”

“No.”

That was the part I couldn’t shake.

“He just… handled everything and made sure I was good. He cares. I know he does.”

Orim let out a low whistle. “Oh, you gone.”

“I’m not gone,” I said, defensive. “I’m just saying… I felt different.”

“Mm-hmm.”

I rolled my eyes. “Don’t do that.”

“I’m just listening.”

I flopped back against the bed. “You don’t get it, O. I haven’t felt this way since we dated.”

She sucked her teeth. “See. Now you dragging it.”

“I’m serious!”

Orim was quiet again, but this time it felt more thoughtful.

“Rory…”

“What?”

“That man is your dad’s friend.”

I rolled my eyes. “And?”

“And it’s not gonna go the way you think it is.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do,” she said flatly. “Marlon Sinclair doesn’t cross lines like that and then just… keep going. There’s a reason your father trusted him enough to keep you.”

“Well. I guess I’ll have to change his mind about us.”

“Girl… that sounds like a terrible idea.”

“It’s a great idea.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yes, it is.” I slid out of bed, walking toward the mirror. My hair was still wrapped from last night. The way Marlon left it.

I touched the scarf and melted.

Orim doesn’t know what she’s talking about. A man doesn’t just do things like this for someone he isn’t the tiniest bit interested in. I just have to make him see that I’m a risk worth taking. And step one is presentation.

“I need new hair,” I said, pulling the wrap off.

Orim groaned. “Rory. You are not about to plot on that man.”

“Too late.” I ran my fingers through my hair, studying myself. “I gotta go though. Talk to you later.”

I hung up and took a shower. A long, hot one, letting it run over my shoulders, down my back, clearing out the last of yesterday. I scrubbed my skin until it felt new and shaved what needed shaving.

Lotion and oils get applied next, layered right.

Then I got dressed in a cream dress, gold hoops and heels—because I already knew he liked the height it gave me.

By the time I was done, I looked exactly how I wanted to look. Put together.

I checked myself in the mirror.

Yeah. This’ll do.

I made it downstairs, realizing it was already 10 a.m.

Oops.

I walked up to the desk and the cute manager Todd looked up and immediately straightened.

“Hello, Ms. Rodriguez,” he said, a little too quick. “Nice to see you dressed up.”

I smiled, leaning slightly against the counter. “Spank ya, Todd.”

He laughed, a little flustered, adjusting his tie as if he suddenly remembered he was on the clock.

“You missed your car service,” he said. “Should I request a new one to the office?”

“Nah,” I said easily, waving that off. “The office is gonna have to wait.”

His brows lifted just slightly. “Oh?”

I leaned in a little, lowering my voice like we were sharing something important. “But listen… I need my hair done. You got somewhere you trust?”

That threw him for a second. He blinked, then nodded, thinking it through.

“All our high-class guests love El’evations,” he said. “It’s one of the best salons in the city.”

“How far?”

“About an hour, hour and a half.”

I straightened, already decided. “Call the cab.”

Todd hesitated just a second. “Are you sure you don’t want me to notify Mr. Sinclair—”

“No,” I cut in smoothly. “ That’ll ruin the surprise! He’ll find out when I get there.”

I walked into the office at 3:07 p.m.

The front of the building was quiet when I stepped in, cool air hitting my skin after braving the Napa heat outside.

Everything in here felt boring.

From the rustic look to the old pillars. Very ancient and very him.

I looked around for a receptionist or a greeter or something, but nope.

“Hello?”

Nothing.

I walked towards the back of the building and saw it open up into a huge, floor to ceiling glass pane behind a gorgeous seating area surrounded by views of the vineyard.

The words “Sucré Estates” was carved into the wood above the glass.

The vineyard had at least three different buildings on its land, all with the same rustic structure.

“Shit,” I was in awe. This is what people should see when they walk in.

Not all that dusty mess.

I scanned the yard outside the glass and there he was.

Marlon stood near the front of one of the buildings, sleeves rolled just enough to show his heavily tatted forearms, phone in his hand and face tight like he’d been dealing with something.

So damn fine.

I ventured out into the yard through the side door and walked over to him. The gravel was doing nothing for my heels but I put up with it.

The second he saw me, his posture shifted, tension in his shoulders exposed for me to notice. He pressed the phone to his chest.

“Where the fuck were you?”

I slid my sunglasses down my nose, letting my eyes meet his. “I had to get my hair done for the first day.”

His gaze went to my hair. Then back to my face.

“Seriously, Aurora?”

I walked past him slow, letting the scent of my perfume trail behind me.

“I heard about this salon in the city. It was real cute. The owner was sweet too, real soft-spoken. Meanwhile she got me out here looking like Kash Doll.”

I tossed my curls and looked over my shoulder at him. He didn’t react how I expected.

“Work starts at nine.”

I turned, leaning slightly on one hip, genuinely confused on why we were still on this. “Okay?”

“You need to be in your office by 9:15 at the latest,” he continued. “Dressed appropriately.”

Slowly, I looked myself over.

What the hell is he talking ‘bout?

The dress hugged me exactly how it was supposed to. The heels did what they needed to do.

Then I looked back at him.

“You don’t like my outfit?” I asked. “It’s custom.”

“This is a vineyard,” he said. “Not New York Fashion Week.”

“Oh, thank God,” I exhaled. “I’m banned from New York Fashion Week after that incident with YSL.”

He stared at me.

“Do I look like I’m playing with you?”

“No, not really.”

“Do I sound like I’m playing with you?”

“Not even a little bit.”

“Then why are you setting yourself up to get your feelings hurt?”

Ugh. I forgot how mean his ass can be.

I suck my teeth. “Kiss my ass, Marlon.”

“Huh? What was that?”

I jumped back a little. “I ain’t even said anything.”

“Oh. Okay.” He watched me for a little then returned to his phone call, leaving me there feeling awkward.

I don’t know why I let myself get caught up in last night. Marlon Sinclair has and always will be a tight ass. Now, I wasted time doing my hair, trying to look nice for him.

Who am I kidding?

Doing my hair is never a waste of time!

No matter how bad the heat in Napa is.

“It’s hot out here.” I tilted my head, watching him. “You said I have an office. Where is it?”

He looked at me through the corner of his eye. “Across from mine. Lavender will show you.”

“Lavender?”

“My assistant.”

“Ou, assistant! Do I get one too?”

“No. Out of budget.”

I blinked. “Wow.”

“For now,” he added. “We’ll share Lav.”

I pressed a hand to my chest. “I hate sharing, Marley.”

“Stop calling me that.”