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Delicious Destiny. Yahrah St. JohnЧитать онлайн книгу.

Delicious Destiny - Yahrah St. John


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all the backbiting and work together as a family. She indicated she would soon be passing the business to one of her grandchildren. The decision wasn’t going to be an easy one. They were all qualified to run Lillian’s. They’d all started learning the business from the bottom up, delivering cakes, working the dock and cleaning the store.

      Shari knew she had tough competition from her cousins for the position. Shari, Drake, Belinda and Carter all considered themselves the best bakers in the shop. No wonder Grandma Lillian couldn’t decide among them.

      Her cousin Belinda, Aunt Daisy’s daughter, excelled at everything she did whether it was school or baking. Somehow, she made it all look effortless. Belinda always dressed smartly in designer clothes and didn’t go out of the house without her full makeup and her long black hair ironed bone straight. Now, she’d hooked one-time basketball pro and Lillian’s baker, Malik Anthony. Belinda was now set to be the first of her cousins to marry.

      Then there was Belinda’s brother Drake. He knew marketing and social media better than any of them. Drake, Malik and Carter had started a blog called “Brothers Who Bake” that offered recipes and advice and was attracting a wide audience. The success of the blog had inspired them to write a cookbook that was now under contract with a major publishing house.

      Last but not least, there was Carter Drayson, Lillian’s artisan cake maker and a real charmer. Up until recently, her cousin had been a true ladies’ man just like his father, Uncle Devon, who’d never married. But then her tall, handsome cousin had gotten hit by the love bug last month. And on top of that, Carter was the most sought-after cake designer at Lillian’s. Shari couldn’t help but be a little resentful of her older cousin. She, too, was an equally skilled baker and designer, but she had to admit no one could create artistry on cakes quite like him.

      Shari knew she was good, but in a family of stars, it was hard carving out her piece of the pie. She was not as confident as Belinda, as technically savvy as Drake or as skilled as Carter, but she deserved a shot to run Lillian’s. Her business degree was evidence of that and she had come up with the idea to package Lillian’s cake mixes. But somehow her baby sister, Monica, had taken over running the cake mix business; she just had to prove to Grandma Lillian that she had what it took to be a leader.

      * * *

      Two hours later, Shari and Andre walked from the parking garage where she had a reserved spot to the front of Lillian’s on North Michigan Avenue. Shari smiled as she always did when she saw the marble facade standing out from the other Magnificent Mile designer boutiques. Her grandparents owned the entire sixteen-story building, which included a slew of offices on floors two through sixteen, while Lillian’s Bakery spanned the entire first floor.

      Lillian’s was written in large, gold, script lettering on the storefront windows through which passersby gazed at ornate wedding cakes and lavish cake designs. Some might say the cakes, cookies and other sumptuous desserts looked like fancy pieces of jewelry or handbags, but the best part was that they were edible.

      Lillian’s had been a Chicago staple since the 1960s when her grandparents had opened their first storefront in Hyde Park. Their love story was one Shari would never forget. Her grandmother, Lillian Reynolds-Drayson, was a widowed single mother whose husband, Jack Reynolds, died of a heart attack. Shari’s father, Dwight, had only been a year old at the time. Grandpa Henry had arrived a few years later and patiently wooed her grandmother until she’d finally let her guard down. They were married soon after and Grandpa Henry adopted her father. As for the business, the rest, as they say, was history.

      Shari couldn’t help but think of that story every time she entered Lillian’s. Today was no exception, even as she rushed inside because she was a few minutes late. Andre had lost his favorite toy, and they’d been unable to leave the house until he’d found it.

      The store always brought a smile to her face. Her grandparents had spared no expense with the decor. It screamed opulence and elegance. Rich mahogany woodwork shined throughout the store while the crystal chandeliers sparkled like brilliant diamonds. Ribbons of copper and gold were inlaid in the glistening marble countertops and matched the ambiance of the various boutiques on the Magnificent Mile, where only the rich and famous shopped.

      Grandpa Henry was working the front counter and retail area when she arrived. His hair was shock full of gray and he was dressed in a Tommy Bahama shirt and trousers. “You’re late, Shari,” he said. “Everyone’s already here.”

      “I know, Grandpa,” Shari responded. “Can you watch Andre while I go into the meeting?”

      “Of course, darling.” Grandpa Henry smiled down at his great-grandson. “Come with great-grandpa.” He held out his hand and Andre took it.

      Shari rushed down the hallway past the framed photographs of Lillian’s through the years. Her grandmother had been a real looker in her heyday. Even now, she was tall and slim with caramel skin, and her face held nary a wrinkle even though she was approaching eighty. There was a picture of Grandma Lillian holding Shari’s father, Dwight, in front of the first storefront in Hyde Park, another of the grand opening of the Mag Mile location, but Shari’s favorite was the Drayson family picture when Lillian’s was featured in a local magazine a year ago.

      She walked past the kitchen to the adjacent executive office area, which included a conference room, and found the entire Drayson family already gathered around a large square table with high-backed chairs.

      “Hello, hello.” Shari gave a quick smile to her grandmother, who was sitting at the head of the table, while Aunt Daisy and Uncle Devon, her cousins and Belinda’s fiancé, Malik, sat flanking each other. Shari nodded at her father and her sister Monica before sliding into an open chair.

      “So happy you could join us,” Grandma Lillian said reproachfully.

      Shari shrugged. “Andre was a handful this morning.”

      “When isn’t Andre a handful?” Carter said fondly from across the table.

      Shari knew Carter adored his little cousin and the feeling was mutual. Andre looked up to his “uncle” Carter. She supposed Andre had a special place in his heart because he was a little bit mischievous and probably reminded Carter of himself.

      Shari’s sister Monica laughed. “This is true.” Watching Andre was not an easy task, Shari knew, and because Monica was so short at five foot three, and Andre was really tall for his age, Monica found him to be a handful.

      “Well, as you know, the You Take the Cake competition is almost upon us,” Lillian said. “I’d like to know what recipes and plans you’ve come up with to ensure Lillian’s the win.”

      Everyone started talking all at once, eager to impress Grandma Lillian with their recipes. “One at a time, please,” she admonished, holding up her hand.

      As usual, Drake was the first to speak. Adjusting his gold-rimmed glasses, he explained, “Carter, Malik and I have come up with a number of great recipes.”

      Her cousin Drake had a medium build that was always dressed in trendy clothes. Today he wore a military jacket, jeans, an oxford shirt and Timberland boots. He looked like perfection. And he always thought he was right.

      Belinda spoke next. “And I’ve been collaborating with Malik here—” she turned to give her fiancé a wink “—on a couple of wedding cake designs.”

      Grandma Lillian turned to Shari. “Shari, how about you?”

      All eyes in the room turned to Shari and she swallowed hard.

      “I have some ideas, too,” she offered, “using unconventional ingredients in the cakes. You know, the show is known for its mystery ingredients.”

      “That sounds great, dear,” Grandma Lillian said. “Sounds like everyone’s come to the table with something.”

      “I think we should do a dry run of the recipes,” her father added. “We should start today.”

      His booming baritone voice, not to mention the touch of gray at his temples, lent him an air of


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