Chapter 4
By the time I finished loading my truck with everything I needed to take with me to make the cookies, I honestly considered if it was even worth it. I decided it was, set the GPS on my phone, attached my phone to the holder, and started the almost hour-long drive to the address he gave me.
I pulled into the driveway of a white house with a deep wrap-around front porch that looked like it had been there forever, but at the same time, it was clearly modern and new. As I stared up at the edifice, Nico pulled into the driveway. He parked his truck next to mine and swung open the door. I found myself staring at his Timberland boots and long, jean-clad legs. Then my eyes moved up to the leather bomber jacket and finally to his face. All of the Hill men were handsome from Briscoe Hill all the way down to Drew Hill, one of the four-year-old twins that Dominic and Brittanie were raising as their own. Domenico was absolutely no exception.
Nico had a fair complexion with a slight smattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose. His expressive brown eyes were encircled by long, curly eyelashes with thick, bushy eyebrows. His lips were full but not pouty. There was just enough lip meat to let me know that his face surely made a very comfortable seat for some lucky young lady. If I was still in my roster-curating phase, he would most definitely sit at the top of my list.
He returned my gaze, but he added a little smolder to his. We kept it up for a few additional seconds before he broke eye contact by looking up at the sky and chuckling.
“Why are you looking at me like that, lil bit?”
“Like what?” It was a natural response. I wasn’t confused. I definitely knew what he meant.
“You know like what. Like you’re trying to go in this crib and get something started. Langston looks at you like a little sister. That ain’t my testimony. I do more than bake cookies, shorty. I eat them motherfuckers like the cookie monster, and I knock the lining outta them, too. I’mma ask you again. Why are you looking at me like that?”
I had to appreciate a man that spoke his mind. My daddy had always been the same exact way. So, I spoke mine back to him.
“You’re very attractive, Nico. I was admiring you…and I was thinking that if I was still curating rosters, I would want you on mine.”
He nodded slowly, as his eyes moved at the same lazy speed over every inch of me.
“You couldn’t go there with me. I’m…troubled. Dealing with me requires you to understand the trifecta—I’m selfish, stingy, and possessive. I would only ever be content on a roster of one.”
“Well, hell. That sounds perfect,” I muttered to myself.
“I heard that. Pop your trunk, and let’s get this stuff in the house before you get something started.”
* * *
The inside of the house was just as beautiful as the outside of the house. Well, what I saw of the house was beautiful. I only saw the lower level, though. We entered the house, and he led me directly to the kitchen. I didn’t ask for a tour or anything because I really wanted to get started with the cookies. There were so many to bake.
“So, you’re cool with the owner of this house?” I questioned as I started to unpack the bags.
“I’m the owner of this house, me and Donovan. We like to invest in real estate?—”
“Way out here? This is over an hour outside of the city.”
“Yeah. We usually look for the best deals. We’re not that concerned about the location. I mean, we don’t plan to live in the homes, except Donovan’s fiancée fell in love with this one. It was going to be theirs.”
“But she passed away, right? I hated to hear that. How’s he doing?”
“Umm…not good.”
“I’m with him,” I said. “I’m not doing good either. I miss my daddy every single day.”
I grabbed the hand soap that I brought with me, went over to the sink, and washed my hands. Nico did the same.
“Okay, so I’ll make the dough. I was gonna be all fancy and make a few different doughs, but nah. I’m gonna make a basic sugar cookie recipe. I’ll need to do a test batch…or maybe two test batches because I’m not familiar with the ovens. You wanna be on mixing dough or cutting out cookies?”
“Cutting out cookies. I’m not trying to mess with the dough. I don’t want to mess anything up.”
I got to work mixing up the first batch of dough.
“Do you plan to do anything with your new baking skills, or is this just a hobby for you?” Nico asked, as he went through the different cookie cutters I brought with me.
“At first, I thought it was just a hobby. My mother calls me a…start-stopper. I’m notorious in my family for being really excited about something, investing money, time, and energy into it and then being bored with it two weeks later. I’ve tried so many things, and nothing has held my interest. I just presumed that baking would be the same, only it wasn’t. I’m really into it.”
“You thinking bakery?”
I shook my head. “I’m not that responsible, Nico. Maybe a website. Maybe I could do pop-up shops. How’d you decide to open your shop? How did you know you had the discipline? The self-control?”
“My life was different from yours, lil bit. Gianni was handing everything to you, serving it to you on a silver platter.”
“Clock it,” I joked with a giggle.
He eyed me. “Yeah, little spoiled ass brat.”
I waved him off and went back to my dough.
“Anyway, while you were having the good life hand delivered to you, I was busy getting 90 percent of everything I had out of the mud. You’re familiar with Coe. You know he don’t really give a shit about anything but himself. He didn’t take good care of my branch of the family tree. His money wasn’t our money. For all intents and purposes, my mother was a single mom. If I wanted money in my pocket, I needed to make that happen. So, I did.”
“How?”
He sighed. “I got connected to Kenny Garfield.”
Realization swept through me. “Ohh. Okay. So, that’s how you knew the weird dude from the date that tried to abduct me. And that’s how you were able to ‘make some calls’ and get my truck back.”
“I worked for him for six years.” He paused, causing me to look over at him. “It was actually your father who helped me get my shit together. The last year of…let’s call it ‘moving merchandise.’ The last year that I ‘moved merchandise’ for Kenny, I kept getting popped. It was like I had a tracker on me or something. Every time I got a car, the police would pull up on me. I was an adult. There was no more juvie. I was looking at serving time. KG was letting me sit there in the county and rot. Coe probably would’ve looked out…maybe. But his ass was indicted and thought he was about to be sitting in the jail cell next to me, so he was of absolutely no help. It was Gianni who came through. I think Coe asked him to do it…either Coe or my mother.”
“So, my daddy got you sprung? Saved you from a life of spending your days getting swoll, lifting weights in the yard?” I giggled.
He snickered. “Whatever. Yeah. Your daddy got me out of the county. Got KG off my back. Shit, Gianni basically walked me through every step of the process of getting my place up and running.”
I nodded my head.
“My dad was like that.” I swiped at my eyes, which were flooding with water. “Plus, he had a special place in his heart for the Hill boys, the sons he never had.”
“Anyway, I knew I had to do whatever I had to do to make my business successful and lucrative. It was the only way I was gonna get money because going back to a life of criminal behavior wasn’t where it was at. Either I was gonna exercise discipline over my own self, or the prison guards were gonna exercise discipline over me. And fuck that!”
“External motivation,” I commented.
The two of us worked in silence. I whipped up and rolled out dough. Nico cut the dough into identical disks, and we popped them in the ovens.
“Now, we wait.” I went to one of the shopping bags I’d brought in with me.
My cell phone chimed, indicating an incoming text. I pulled the phone from my pocket, read the text then slid the phone back into my pocket. Pulling Tupperware containers from a shopping bag, I glanced over at Nico.
“You hungry?”
It was around 4:00 p.m., and we had arrived a little over two hours earlier.
“I brought food because we’re gonna be here for a while.” I gave him a sheepish look.
“A while? How long is a while, lil bit?”
“Well, the email the pastor sent this morning said that forty-seven kids signed up for cookie decorating. Each child gets two cookies to decorate. That’s roughly eight dozen cookies. I was thinking that I would make additional cookies to be on the safe side. But he just sent a text with updated numbers.” My sigh was soft. “Thirty-nine more kids signed up today.”
“Damn. So, we’re looking at what? A total of eighty-six kids now? How many dozen is that? Eighty-six times two plus extras.”
“Eighty-six kids, two cookies each, is roughly fifteen dozen.”
“And how many extra cookies?”
“Well, I was going to do two dozen backups in case of breakage or one of the adults wanting to decorate a cookie or somebody having a younger sibling or something. But with the extra kids, I’m wondering if I should do three dozen for backups.”
“Do the three dozen.” He decided for me.
“I just don’t want to come home with extra cookies.”
“You won’t. Those extra cookies won’t make it out of the building. Trust me.”
I glanced over at him with soft eyes. “It’s Friday night. I hope I’m not infringing on any plans.” I quickly added, “And if I am, feel free to leave me here. I’ll?—”
“Ain’t nobody leaving you here,” he assured me.
That made me exhale an invisible sigh of relief.
“But I am about to smash this food you brought,” he continued. “Run those Tupperware containers, lil bit. Let’s see what you got.”
I opened the containers one by one.
“I roasted a chicken last night and pulled the meat for sandwiches. So, there’s chicken, lettuce, and tomatoes.” I went back to the shopping bag. “Here’s bread, a jar of giardiniera, cheese, mayo, mustard, and barbecue sauce. I also brought chips, bottled water, and a small bottle of lemonade.”
“You brought a lot of food.”
I gave his body a slow once-over. “You’re a lot of man.”
He winked at me. “Remember that.”
* * *
Nico transferred the last of the cooling cookies from the wire racks, and placed them gently in the air-tight container. I grabbed the wire racks, wiped them down, and packed them back into my bag. They would get washed at my house as would all of my cookie sheets, the Tupperware containers, and everything else.
I made my way over to Nico, wrapped my arms around his waist, and gave him a hug. With my face buried in his chest, I inhaled his scent. It was cool, clean, and woodsy.
“Thank you,” I mumbled from where my face was still in his chest. “You smell good.”
The rumble of his chuckle caused a vibration. He wrapped his arms around me.
“You’re welcome. And thanks. Kinda felt like I owed you this since I’m the one who put you in front of Pastor Sharpe’s face.”
“Don’t feel like you did me dirty, Nico. I’m grateful that you put me in the pastor’s face. I’m grateful for this opportunity. Baking gives me joy. It’s like the more I do it, the more I love it.” I snuggled into him.
“What are you doing, girl?” He chuckled again.
“I don’t know. I didn’t know you gave hugs like this. This is the kind of hug I need. It’s firm but gentle. It’s soft, but at the same time, it’s hard. You smell good. You feel good. I might have to tell Langston that I found a contender for that arranged marriage he was offering me.”
That caused Nico to guffaw. He laughed so hard that I couldn’t help but laugh, too.
“What? You wouldn’t be willing to marry me if the two of us were arranged?” I joked.
He released me from the embrace, his gaze meeting mine. “I would definitely be willing to accept you. Have you seen yourself? I’d just want time to get to know you a little bit. Find out your likes, your dislikes.” He trailed his fingertips down the length of both my arms, causing prickly sensations and tingles throughout my body.
“Gianni spoiled you, so I’d need to pick up that mantle. I’d do it. I feel like I could have fun spoiling you, Julianna.”
I hadn’t heard him say my full name in a while. It sounded good on his lips.
“Go ‘head and call Langston up, and tell him to consider me. Or we can agree to become homies, and see what happens organically between us.”
He dropped a light kiss on my lips, and I was sure that my heart short-circuited. It had been so long since I had been held.
“Okay.” My whispered response came from trembling lips.
“Okay.” He repeated the word back to me, and then he kissed me again.
He didn’t insert his tongue in my mouth or anything, but the kiss, easy and oh so soft, still practically caused my knees to buckle. A quiet whimper escaped my lips because the way he handled me made me feel cared for, and I liked it.
* * *
I woke up early on Saturday morning to make what felt like was vats and vats of different colored royal icing for the kids to frost the cookies. Once that was done, I brushed my teeth, showered, and walked around in my closet wearing only my panties and bra.
I had the urge to get really cute. I could count on one hand the number of times I’d had that urge since losing my dad. I decided to lean into it, selecting a forest green, Chanel inspired short skirt and matching jacket. After finger combing through the curls from my flexi rods, I gave my face a very light beat that only consisted of a tinted moisturizer, mascara, eyeliner, and lip gloss.
The girl looking back at me in the mirror looked vaguely familiar. I remembered her from way back when before her father died and before she found it hard to genuinely smile and feel happiness.
“One day,” I whispered to the reflection of Julianna as I stared at her. “One day you’ll be happy again. You’re too pretty to be in a continual state of blues.”
I didn’t know if I really believed what I’d just told myself. It seemed like no matter what I did, the gray storm cloud was always hanging over my head. Even when I hopped on a plane and went to Iredia, the storm cloud showed up in Iredia.
“Lord, please help me. My daddy was a jovial person. He wouldn’t like me to be all mired down in sadness and despair. He would want me to live life and enjoy myself. Help me find my way back to joy.”
After speaking the prayer aloud, I went into the kitchen to gather everything I would take to church. Thinking about church made me think about Nico and how good it felt to rest in his arms. It made me think about the way he kissed me so…thoroughly.
“Whew child!” I said as I fanned myself.
* * *
The comedy show started at 7:00 p.m., but the doors opened at 6:00 p.m. I was asked to arrive by 5:00 p.m. so I would have time to set up. I was glad to see Ravyn’s Range Rover pull into the lot and ease into the spot next to mine. Since I knew that there was no way I could handle facilitating a cookie decorating workshop on my own, I’d basically begged her to come and help me out. Nico agreed to come too, but I wasn’t sure that even the three of us could pull it off without a disaster.
Ravyn stepped out of her truck wearing a cute pink jogging set and matching pink and white Nike Dunks.
I grinned at her. “Don’t you look both festive and sporty?”
She frowned in return. “Why are you dressed like you’re going to a real church service? Are they having service? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“They’re not having service,” I assured her.
“Okay.” She folded her arms across her chest. “You asked me to come help some kids frost some cookies? Why are you out here looking like the first lady? Looking like you just left the Chanel flagship store, and I’m looking like I’m on my way to help kids frost cookies?”
“I’m the facilitator, Rae. The church is paying me to run this workshop. I thought I should dress the part.”
“You’re gonna leave here with frosting on your clothes,” she fussed. “I?—”
Her words were cut off by the sight of an orange Ford Mustang zipping into the lot. Ravyn watched the car with interest.
“That’s Nico,” I told her. “Jianna’s brother-in-law. You met him at the fundraiser. He’s gonna help out today.”
“Do you think he’s dressed for church?”
“I doubt it, boo. The only reason I’m dressed like this is because, for the first time in I don’t know how long, I actually felt like dressing up. I felt good today, so I went with it.”
She eyed me critically. “We gotta get you out of this funk. I miss the old Julianna. It’s been three years, boo.”
Before I could respond, Nico was out of his vehicle and walking toward us with his mother in tow. He stopped in front of us.
“What’s up, ladies?”
He included both of us in his bright smile. Though his top was covered by the jacket that a Chicago February required, I could see that he was wearing gray cargo pants and gray Jordans. I silently sighed, knowing that I wouldn’t have to hear Ravyn’s mouth.
“Hey, Nico. Thank you for coming to help.” I stepped forward and gave his mother a quick hug. “Hey, Ms. Russo. Nico didn’t talk you into helping, too, did he?”
She returned the hug. When she released me, she had a grin on her pretty face.
“He didn’t have to force me. I’m on the committee, so I’m happy to help. I can’t wait to see what these babies come up with. You know creativity is in our DNA from the continent.”
“Yes, ma’am. Umm, this is my best friend, Ravyn Hines. Rae, you probably remember Nico from New Year’s Eve. This is his mother, Ms. Russo.”
Ms. Russo gave Ravyn an approving look. “Hello, gorgeous. It’s nice to meet you.”
Ravyn blushed. “It’s nice to meet you, too.”
“Where’s the stuff at, lil bit? Let’s start taking it in.”
* * *
“The fact that you baked so many extra cookies was clutch,” Ravyn told me as the two of us sat down at a table that had been vacated by children once the parents came to get them.
“Girl.” Had the table not been covered in icing and cookie crumbs, I would’ve rested my head on it. I was exhausted.
“Those literal crumb snatchers were wild as hell…heck.” She pulled a face. “Who knew church kids were so dang-on rude? They were like, ‘my cookie broke, Miss. I’mma need another one.’ Not a please or a thank you in sight.”
“I don’t think that’s church. I think it’s the generation they’re being raised in.”
Ms. Russo and Nico joined us at the table, followed by the pastor.
“How do you feel?” Those were the first words out of Pastor Sharpe’s mouth.
“Tired,” I admitted with a small smile. “But also happy. The kids seemed to have a really good time.”
“The parents just picked up their children five minutes ago, and I was stopped twenty-five times on my way down here. Nothing but accolades for you and your team.”
“Thank you. I’m so glad it was a success.” A thought occurred to me. “Oh yeah, I have a special gift for you and your wife, Pastor. I hope you all can eat cookies.”
I walked over to my belongings on the far side of the room and returned carrying a festively decorated gift box.
“I made you and the first lady a special batch—butter cookies, chocolate chip, oatmeal raisin, peanut butter, and white chocolate macadamia nut.” I held out the box.
“We definitely eat cookies. Thank you, Sister Outlaw.”
“You’re welcome. Pastor, this is my best friend, Ravyn. Ravyn, this is Pastor Sharpe.”
Ravyn gave him a small wave. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“It’s nice to meet you, too. Thank you for helping Sister Outlaw out today and for pouring into Faith in Harvest’s children. Please know that you have an open invitation to come visit us again.”
“Thank you.”
Pastor Sharpe and Nico’s mom left the room. Once they were out of sight, I did a little two-step praise dance.
“Wow. I didn’t think I would enjoy that as much as I did.” I bounced around on my tiptoes before giving Ravyn a huge hug. “Thank you for helping me.”
“You’re welcome.” She squeezed me back. “You did good, boo.”
I gave Nico a hug.
“You did your thing, lil bit.”
“Thank you.” I was all smiles. “I’m starving. We should go get something to eat.”
Ravyn peeked down at her watch. “I can’t. My sister’s having a Galentine’s thing today. I told her that I had plans, but you know how pushy Reagan can be. I promised her I would come by as soon as I finished up here.”
I checked my phone. It was after 9:00 p.m. “It’s still going on?”
“It’s at some club she and all her friends frequent. It’s probably just getting started.” She checked her watch again. “Let me go. I’m not trying to hear her mouth.”
She said goodbye to Nico, and we waved her off.
“Oh, well.” I shrugged. “I guess I’ll stop and get something before I head home.”
Nico gave me a strange face. “It’s your day. Well…your night. You had your first successful event as a business owner. My mother got some pictures. The church photographer got some pictures. I already cleared it with the pastor, so you can post the pictures on your website, and?—”
“Nico, I don’t have a website or a business. I’m not a business owner.”
“You are a business owner, lil bit. Don’t try to talk yourself out of it. Let’s go celebrate your first big win.”
“What about your mom? Didn’t she ride with you?”
“Yeah. She’s catching a ride home with one of her homegirls.”
I wasn’t sure why, but I still hesitated a little bit. “It’s kinda late.”
He shot me a wink. “I know a place.”
* * *
We parked on a side street, crossed a busy intersection, and dipped into an alley where Nico opened a deep green door.
“Where are we?” I asked, looking around.
The room was strategically lit—dark, but not strain your eyes dark. The place had a moody feeling—mellow and unhurried. It was a first date type of spot. This place was somewhere you came when you wanted to hang out with a person, a place where you could talk and presumably drink, because there was a large bar. The furnishings gave it an upscale and modern industrial feel. The walls were exposed brick. The booth seating was a medium-brown leather. The bar stools featured iron legs and a wooden seat. The place was small and intimate. There were a few patrons inside, but even though the place was small, it didn’t feel cramped.
“Where are we?” I repeated once I had slid into the booth across from him and made myself comfortable.
“It’s called Breezy’s ,” he explained. “Dominic owns it. It’s named after his wife.”
I gave him a smirk. “Queen Bree?”
He returned my smirk with a grin, showing me his sparkling white teeth. “Yeah.”
“Okay, I can see that they have drinks, but do they have food? All I’ve eaten since breakfast is about ten of my own sugar cookies.”
He chuckled. “Word. I was eating the hell out of those extra cookies.”
We both laughed.
“They don’t have waiters or waitresses here. You order your drinks from the bar. You order food through the app.” He directed me to the QR Code that was printed on the paper drink menu, and I hovered my phone over it.
He gave me his order. “Yo, get me the crispy chicken sandwich with fries. I’mma head to the bar. What’re you drinking?”
“Anything non-alcoholic…but tasty.”
He stared at me for a moment before saying, “Non-alcoholic but tasty. Got it.”
When he returned, he placed a coral colored, fizzy drink in front of me and took a sip from what looked like a rum and coke.
I lifted the glass he had set in front of me and turned it a few times, admiring the contents. “Pretty. What is it?”
“I forget what the bartender called it. Some kind of spritzer. It’s made with honey, vanilla, and the juice of a blood orange.”
I took a sip. “Delicious! This might be my new go-to drink.” I looked around the speakeasy. “Is this a money maker for your brother?”
He raised his glass for another taste of his drink. “I haven’t known Dominic long, but one thing I know is that dude makes money. Just check the prices of the drinks and the food. Bro targets this place at a specific demographic.”
“Seems like you’ve been able to build a relationship with Dominic.”
“Yeah, I have. He’s mad cool. We have similar personalities. We’re both pretty laid back…and blunt as hell.”
I sipped a huge amount of my mocktail through the straw, enjoying the citrus flavor.
“What gets you outta the house, lil bit? You like movies? You like concerts?”
I took another quick sip and realized that I was at the bottom of my glass.
“I’ll get you another one,” he offered.
“Thanks. Umm, I used to go to concerts all the time. I haven’t been to one in a minute, though. I mean, first there was the pandemic, and I just wasn’t breathing in that many people’s germs…especially since I didn’t get the shot . Then, my daddy passed away. Since then, I don’t know. I really haven’t had much interest in concerts and stuff. For three years now, I’ve just stuck close by the house. If I need socialization, I usually go to Jianna’s.”
“Do you want to get out of the house more?”
I considered the question. There were so many things that I put down when I lost my father. A lot of them didn’t serve me. But as a former social butterfly, I did miss socializing. I didn’t want it back at the level I had it before, but I did want it.
“Yeah. I would like to get out of the house more.”
A young black guy with dreads appeared at our table holding plates filled with delicious-smelling food. He placed them down on the table, walking away after we thanked him.
Nico picked up his chicken sandwich. I tried not to watch him, but he was so…watchable? Was that even a word? There was something about him that required…no… demanded my attention. That little sandwich practically disappeared in his extra-large hands. I watched as he lifted it to his mouth and took a bite.
Since when did a dude chewing food become sexy? I asked myself. You’re tripping.
When I brought my gaze up from his mouth, our eyes met. I blushed.
“Sorry.”
He grinned at me—his entire face lighting up. “I’m cool with you staring…as long as you’re cool with me staring back at you.”