An All Night Man Page 15

  "I think we should fire Mac,” Amani said. “This is the third time in two weeks that he's called in sick. We can't afford to have staff we can't rely on. Especially since that article about us ran in the Toronto Star, because we're busier than ever.”

  "Yeah, you're probably right.” Suzette wrapped her fingers around the large mug. “Which is gonna suck, because we'll have to hire and train someone else.”

  Amani looked beyond Suzette's shoulder and out the large window. It was a gray November day. Professional-looking people huddled into their designer blazers, fighting off the chilling wind. Clearly more concerned about fashion, they were hardly dressed for the weather.

  "The sooner we do it, the better,” Amani said. “Maybe then I can finally take a vacation.” It would be so much nicer to look outside a window and see a stretch of white, sandy beach than this dismal scene. “Go somewhere warm, like Jamaica or Hawaii.”

  "Oooh, now that's an idea. Find yourself some hot island man to bring to Rachel's wedding. That'll show Carl that you can have any man you want.”

  Amani met Suzette's gaze. “Who was talking about the wedding? I'm talking about a vacation, plain and simple. I haven't taken one since we opened this place five years ago.” At the time, with her marriage falling apart, she hadn't wanted to take one. Work had been her saving grace. Now, she was ready.

  Suzette sighed softly. “I could use a vacation, too. I hate this time of year.”

  "Then crank up the fireplace and get cozy with your man. The next one of us to go anywhere will be me. You and Mitch went to Vegas last year. The year before that, Cancun. I went to the Bahamas six years ago when I got married, and I haven't been anywhere since.”

  A naughty grin formed on Suzette's lips. “Hey, you've got to keep the spice in a marriage.”

  It was a good thing Suzette was such a great friend, or Amani might be tempted to despise her. From the stories Suzette told, she and Mitch had an amazing sex life. Their attraction to each had been fierce from the first moment they met, and hadn't waned since. On the other end of the spectrum, Amani's marriage to Carl had needed a whole host of spices to add some decent flavor. The sex had become routine and boring once they'd gotten past the first month. On their first year anniversary, when Carl had asked if she would give him a special present—that present being a ménage à trois with the two of them and another woman in the mix—Amani had known that their marriage was doomed.

  And now . . . now she had the occasional sprinkling of spice, but nothing she wanted to sample again. Earl had been pretty darn good in bed. If only he hadn't ruined that by falling in love with her.

  Amani sipped her tea. “I think I'll plan a trip away. Maybe to coincide with Rachel's wedding. And I'm only half-joking.”

  "Don't let Carl keep you from going.”

  "I have no residual feelings for him, but I'm just not comfortable seeing him. After all, we haven't talked since our divorce.”

  "Oh, wow.” Suzette whistled lowly. “Check out this one.”

  "What?” Amani asked. Then seeing that Suzette was staring in the direction of the door, she realized her friend had gone from the discussion about the wedding to checking out some hot man. You'd never know she went home to a man every night, the way she ogled the ones who came into the cafe.

  "What a nice pick-me-up for a bleak Monday afternoon. Now this guy, he could be your date. As long as you don't dump him before the two week mark.”

  "Oh, that was low.” And, unfortunately, true for more than one of the guys Amani had dated. But what was the point in prolonging a relationship that wasn't going to work? “I'm done with you setting me up, Suzette. I don't need another Earl.”

  "Trust me,” Suzette said. “Turn around.”

  Amani sighed wearily. Suzette was always trying to set her up with the hot men who came into the café, which was annoying to the nth degree. Just because Suzette had fallen in love at first sight with one of the customers four years earlier didn't mean that Amani would.

  "I think . . .” Suzette's eyes narrowed. “He looks familiar.”

  Curiosity getting the better of her, Amani turned. And when she did, a zap of electricity went through her entire body.

  Oh. My. Lord.

  "Oh my goodness,” Suzette said in a rush. “That's—”

  "Aaron Hayes,” Amani supplied.

  Rather, Mr. Aaron Hayes. At least six feet two of drop-dead gorgeous man, she would know him anywhere. She had never forgotten him.

  Senior year of high school. English class. She had hung on his every word, and fantasized about him every night.

  He still looked as good as he had nine years ago, which was to say he looked pretty damn incredible. He had shaken up Montgomery High School when he'd joined the staff that year, leaving the female teachers and students lusting after him.

  But Aaron Hayes had taken it all in stride. He had worn a wedding band, meaning he was off the market. Still, Amani had enjoyed some hot-blooded fantasies about him. Fantasies that would never come true, mostly because she was a student in his class and he would never look at her that way.

  He'd made a point of telling her that.

  "I think he needs some help,” Suzette said.

  The sound of Suzette's voice startled her. Amani had forgotten that anyone but she and Mr. Hayes were in this small cafe. How completely strange that she would feel the same rush of attraction for him, after all this time.

  Amani faced her friend. Suzette's pierced eyebrow was arched with mischievous suggestion. “You're drooling,” Suzette practically sang.

  "I am not!” Nonetheless, Amani wiped the back of her hand across her mouth.

  Suzette chuckled as she stood. “Finally, a man who gets a reaction out of you. I was beginning to worry.”

  Amani was about to ask, “What the hell does that mean?” but she could barely hear her own thoughts over the pounding of her heart. She was more than shocked to see Mr. Hayes, looking as devastatingly sexy as he had nine years ago, standing in her shop.

  What was he doing here?

  "Go help him out,” Suzette instructed her. “Unless you're afraid you'll be tongue-tied because you still have a killer crush on him.”

  Amani made a fist and shook it at her friend. “Keep that up, and you'll be looking for work.”

  "You can't fire me, babe.”

  "Don't remind me.”

  Amani surreptitiously watched Aaron as she stood up and made a show of collecting the mugs and plates she and Suzette had used. Looking a tad confused, Aaron stepped into a cubicle. It wouldn't be long before he realized that he needed a password to access the computer.

  "Put that stuff down.” Suzette all but wrestled the mugs from Amani's hands.

  "Suzette!”

  Suzette curled her fingers around Amani's arm and gave her a firm, but friendly shove. “The man needs help. Go help him. And who knows, he could just end up being your date for the wedding.”

  Aaron lifted his head at that moment and saw her. He smiled a polite smile that said he didn't recognize her. But as Amani walked toward him, something in his expression changed. There was a flash of recognition in his eyes, and the smile changed from polite to pleasantly surprised.

  "I know you,” he said.

  "Mr. Hayes,” Amani responded.

  "Aaron,” he told her. Then he crossed his arms over his brawny chest. “Montgomery High, my first year there, which was ten years ago. You were a senior in my English class. Amani, right?”

  "Oh my God.” Amani was pleasantly surprised, despite a bit of panic. If he remembered her, did he remember the embarrassing story she had written? “How on earth did you remember that?”

  "Some students, you just don't forget.”

  Her face grew warm, and given her fair complexion, she was sure he noticed the red hues flaming her cheeks. But if he did, he didn't give any signs.

  More than nine long years had passed since that embarrassing day in his class, but now she couldn't help wondering if that was wh
y he hadn't forgotten her. After all, how many other teenaged students practically threw themselves at him? That's exactly what Amani had done—in the guise of an erotic story—making a fool of herself in the process.

  She had been dreaming about him practically nonstop, and had awoken one day with the ridiculous desire to communicate that to him before she graduated and never saw him again. What better way to do so than in a story, the way she had always communicated her feelings?

  Mr. Hayes had been working with his students on a senior class anthology of stories that would be published. Amani had brazenly written a story about an English teacher having an affair with his student. The day after submitting it to him, she had been excited and hopeful when he'd asked her to stay after class to chat. But hope had turned to horror when she'd seen the serious look on his face.

  "I'm going to get straight to the point,” he'd said. “This story of yours . . .” He held it up. “Is it what I think it is?”

  Amani had been too shocked to speak for a moment. But then her brain kicked in. “Um, what. . . what do you think it is?”

  "Is this about me? Me and you?”

  The way he asked the question made Amani look down in shame.

  Mr. Hayes sighed his exasperation. “That's what I was afraid of.”

  She didn't face him. “I ... I thought you'd like it.”

  "Amani, I ... I think you've misunderstood the attention I've been giving you. It's my fault; I see that now.” He looked at her with kindness. “I've been here for you, to help you grieve the loss of your mother. But that's all. Not only am I married, I'm your teacher. We can't be together.”

  Amani's heart had cracked in two. She had poured all her feelings for him into that story, and he was rejecting her. There was only one thing she could do now: lie. “It's not about you. It's just about a girl.”

  Mr. Hayes waited a beat. “The story is very explicit. Surely you know I can't publish this in the anthology.”

  "But it's a good story!”

  "It's inappropriate. Besides, if I publish this, people will speculate. If they think we've been involved, I could lose my job.”

  "How could they do that? We haven't done anything wrong.”

  "If only things were so simple, Amani.” He paused. “The deadline for the anthology has passed, but if you can get your new story to me in a couple days, I can work it in.”

  "A new story?”

  "Either that, or the one you wrote about your mother's death last month.”

  "No. I don't want anyone to read that.” She'd written about her emotions regarding her mother's death for herself—and for Mr. Hayes. It was much too personal to share with the whole school. She hadn't expected him to publish her latest story, but she had hoped he would tell her that he liked her, too.

  "I'd like you to be in the anthology. You have until Friday.”

  Friday came and went. Amani hadn't written another story. In her heart, she doubted she would ever write again. She had been too humiliated.

  "Amani?”

  Aaron's deep voice brought Amani back from her trip down memory lane. “Sorry. I'm just so surprised to see you. What brings you by?” May as well keep this conversation as much about business as possible.

  "My laptop clunked out, and I need to access the Internet.”

  "You've certainly come to the right place.” As she spoke, Amani's gaze ventured to Aaron's left hand. It was an instinctive action, and she was surprised to see that he no longer sported a wedding band. Did that mean he was divorced?

  It doesn't matter. Pivoting on her heel, she started for an empty cubicle. “It's twenty cents a minute, five minute minimum.”

  "No problem.”

  She fired up the computer, entered the password, then stepped backward so he could take a seat. “Can I get you a coffee or tea? I've got special flavors, if you like, mild or strong. Anything you want, really.” She was babbling.

  "Regular coffee. Black.”

  "Sure thing.”

  No sooner was Amani at the cafe counter than Suzette was on her like white on rice. “What's he doing here? Is he still married? Because I didn't see a ring on his finger. Girl, if he's single—”

  "My God, Suzette. Do you ever stop? The man wants to check his e-mail. And I'm sure he wants to do so without getting the third degree from me.” Although the truth was, Amani was very interested to know all about him.

  Not that he'd tell her squat. After all, she had only been one of his students. The best she could expect was respectful conversation.

  Suzette didn't know about the story Amani had submitted to Mr. Hayes. She had been too embarrassed to tell her about it.

  Pushing the disturbing memory from her mind, Amani poured a mug of coffee for Aaron, placed it on a saucer and scooped up creamers and sugars. Then she sashayed back to his cubicle, aware that there was an extra pep in her step, an extra sway to her hips.

  It was silly, surely, that after all this time, Aaron Hayes could bring about any type of reaction in her at all, but he did. She wished she'd had the foresight to put a fresh coat of lipstick on. Or run a comb through her hair. She suddenly wanted to look her best for him. Again, not that it would matter to him, but it did matter to her. At the very least, he would see that she was no longer the kid in his senior English class that he'd rejected.

  He glanced up at her as she reached him, a smile in his dark brown eyes. “Thanks,” he said softly.

  "If you need any help, just let me know,” she told him.

  She turned and started her walk away, not daring to look behind her to see if his gaze still followed her movements. But she hoped he was getting an eyeful. How crazy was that?

  Entirely, but some things never changed. She had never been able to turn off her raw, sexual attraction for the man. Not even in the nine years that had passed since graduation. Even during her marriage, she had thought of Aaron every now and then, wondering how he was, where he was, what he was doing with his life.

  For the next thirty minutes, Amani went through the normal routine of making coffee, serving pastries, and helping customers with their computer queries—all while furtively watching Aaron's back.

  She was clearing a table of dirty plates when he stood. Immediately, she lowered the plates and started toward him.

  "All done?” she asked, wiping her hands on her apron.

  "Yeah.”

  "Did you log off?”

  "Uh huh.”

  "Good. Your receipt will be printing at the front counter. Minus the coffee.”

  "That wasn't necessary.”

  Amani waved a hand. “Oh, no big deal. It was the least I could do. You gave me an A in your English class.”

  He laughed softly, and Amani felt the stirring of something deep in her gut. Just like that, she had an understanding of what had always attracted her to him. He had a gentle nature, despite his devastatingly handsome looks. It was that gentle nature that had led him to reach out to her in her time of pain after her mother's death. He said he cared with a simple look or touch, and it was wildly intoxicating.

  Would he be a quiet lover, Amani wondered, or did his polished exterior hide a wild, untamed side?

  "You earned that A,” he told her. “Still writing?”

  "E-mail.” She swallowed, her throat suddenly dry with the direction of her thoughts. “Every day.”

  "Seriously,” Aaron said.

  "Once in a while the mood strikes, but I usually end up chucking whatever I've scribbled. I learned long ago that writing wasn't in the cards for me.” She shrugged as if to say it was no big deal.

  Aaron gave her a long look as he shook his head. “That's exactly what I didn't want to hear.”

  "It really doesn't matter. I'm much too busy running this shop, anyway.”

  "And I have no doubt you're doing a great job. But you're an extremely talented writer. It seems like such a waste.”

  "Mr. Hayes, you're much too kind.” Why was he flattering her like this, considering he'd torn her l
ast writing assignment to shreds? “Are you still teaching?”

  "Yep. I stayed at Montgomery High for six years. Now I'm at Delta, not too far north of here.”

  "Right.” Amani knew where the high school was.

  They fell into silence. Grinning uncomfortably, Amani crossed her arms over her chest. She had no clue what to say to him.

  He was the first to speak. “The receipt's at the front?”

  "Oh. Right. Let me take care of that.”

  She hustled to the front of the cafe. A young man with stringy blond hair beckoned to her, but she held up a finger in his direction, telling him she'd be a second.

  At the cash register, she rang up Aaron's total. “Six ninety,” she told him.

  He handed her a ten, saying, “Keep the change.”

  She shook her head. “Mr. Hayes.”

  "No, keep it.” He shoved his wallet back into his slacks.

  "Thank you,” she said softly. Again, there was an awkward silence. Glancing to her left, she saw the young man staring at her, an impatient look on his face. Suzette was busy with someone else, which meant she'd have to deal with him.

  "Well, it was good seeing you again,” Amani said. “I wish I could hang out and chat, but I've got to get back to work.”

  "I know.” Aaron nodded, his gaze holding hers. He looked away, then back at her. “It was good seeing you, too.”

  "If you're in the area again—”

  "Of course.”

  Aaron gave her one last grin before slowly making his way to the door. Amani had the distinct feeling that he had wanted to say something else.

  3

  .

  Kiss me.”