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Love And A Latte. Jamie PopeЧитать онлайн книгу.

Love And A Latte - Jamie Pope


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watches or spend foolishly on flashy things with little value that he didn’t need. He was hungry for organization and structure. Hungry to see something that he managed grow into the something big and successful. He liked to know that his money was working for him. Know that each hour he invested was going to pay off tenfold.

      He wasn’t sure how other people could go through life not doing that. People who were content just to sit back and let things happen for them. People who could just go where the wind blew them. The thought of that made Chase shudder. That’s why he was sitting in the café section of his family’s new bakery, Lillian’s of Seattle, far past closing time, going over the finances. Again. Tweaking the business plan. Studying the market analysis summary he had created.

      They were doing well by most people’s standards. They’d had a successful opening month and were on track to maintain steady business. His parents thought he and his siblings were crazy for deciding to take on the running of a bakery when they had no experience. They were old-school, wanting their children to only have careers with steady incomes that they could always count on, but Chase, Jackson and Mariah Drayson sometimes had to ignore the well-intentioned advice of their parents.

      They had to take this calculated risk because Chase knew it could really pay off. And besides, running a bakery seemed to be in their blood. Their extended family had been doing so in Chicago for two generations and were starting to branch out around the country.

      His baby sister had left her job in advertising to bake for them after her divorce was final. She was surprisingly excellent at it. And a creative force, too, inventing the Draynut, a combination of a croissant and doughnut that people were going wild for. Mariah was bringing customers in by the droves and her creation was the boost their small business needed. But Chase knew all about fads and trends, and while things were going well now, they could crash and burn in no time. He knew that even businesses with successful openings had a high risk of failing in the first year.

      In every job that Chase worked, he always did his best to succeed, but making Lillian’s a success was more important to him than any other job he had ever had. Because Lillian’s was all about family and tradition. The Seattle shop was the third bakery. The original, started by the Chicago branch of his family and run now by his cousins, was an institution in the Windy City. He wanted the Seattle shop to have the same legacy as the original.

      He secretly wanted it to be better than the original.

      It was a challenge. He hadn’t had a real challenge in a long time. That’s why when Mariah sprung this idea on him, even though he was apprehensive, he agreed. As the eldest he felt it was his job to make sure this place flourished.

      Chase had done his research. He knew an upscale, well-positioned bakery could do well in Seattle. It could outearn the original bakery if managed properly and he knew of no better man for the job than him. So he had taken a leave of absence from work and thrown everything he had into making Lillian’s a success. The only thing that was sticking in his side was the competition.

      Sweetness Bakery. It had dominated the market in Seattle, and for the life of him, Chase couldn’t figure out why. He had gotten pastries there himself once or twice. But from what he remembered there was nothing exceptional about them. Nothing that made him want to go back. Not the decor. Not the coffee. Not the customer service.

      Lillian’s was superior to them in every way. The homey, elegant interior. The superior coffee from their new partner, Myers Coffee Roasters, and the stomach-growling sweet smells from the pastries put them leaps and bounds above the competition. Even though the bakery was closed now, the scent of fine coffee and great baked goods stayed with him.

      And it was then he realized that a large steaming coffee concoction and a plate of chocolate-drizzled butter popcorn cookies had been slid in front of him.

      “It looks like you could use this,” he heard a soft, feminine voice say. He looked up to see a woman standing in front of him. She was the barista. He had noticed her before because she was cute. Petite but curvy with beautiful smooth brown skin and a head full of bouncy curls. And she always wore something bright. Yellow. Orange. Pink. She didn’t seem like the type of girl who hid in corners. And she was smiling at him now. That’s what he remembered the most about her, the way she smiled at their customers. Warm and welcoming. It was a smile that made a person feel at home. She was the kind of employee that they needed at Lillian’s. But for the life of him he couldn’t remember her name.

      “Thank you...”

      Annie?

      Amy?

      Ashley.

      “You don’t remember my name, do you, Mr. Chase Drayson? Oldest of the Drayson siblings. Wharton School of Business grad and Mr. Money-Guy. I think I’m hurt.” She flashed him a smile he could only describe as flirty while she took the seat across from him. “I’m Amber. Amber Bernard. We’ve met before. I work here. In the bakery. As the barista. Remember?”

      She had great eyes, too. Wide. Almond shaped. Almost innocent-looking. They kind of sparkled when she smiled. “That much I do remember. I’m sorry.” He felt a beat of attraction that wasn’t expected. He’d never thought he had a type, but she wasn’t the usual sort of woman he was drawn to with her flirty smile and funky style. He couldn’t help but take note of the flowy top and snug, body-hugging jeans she wore. “I was caught up in work. Everything else seems to fade away when I am.”

      “I could tell. I was doing the cancan right in front of you for fifteen minutes.”

      She smiled at him again and this time he smiled back. “Really? I’m sorry I missed that. It must have been quite a show.”

      “It was.” She held her head haughtily, which caused him to laugh. “I may have short legs, but these girls can kick.”

      * * *

      Amber watched Chase as he picked up his steaming mug and took a long sip.

      Good Lord, he’s a beautiful man.

      And he was, when his head wasn’t buried in his laptop. She wasn’t surprised that he didn’t remember her. Every time she saw him, he was busy working or talking about work or walking around deep in thought. And she knew those thoughts must be about work, too. He was the most serious of the Drayson siblings. Mariah, who had become her friend, was sweet, creative and lovely. Jackson was personable and a flirt, but Chase... She didn’t know much about Chase except he worked hard, and his siblings not only loved him, but looked up to him. He was a brilliant, successful guy. It was written all over him.

      “So how are things?” she asked him when he put his cup down.

      “With the business? Or personally?” He nodded toward the mug. “That is excellent, by the way. What is it?”

      “I call it caramel brûlé coffee. Made with milk, caramel sauce, brown sugar and whipped cream.”

      “I like it.”

      “I thought you would. A lot of men drink their coffee black because they think it’s manly, but I can tell you are a man who likes some things sweet.”

      He gave her another smile showing off his perfectly white, perfectly straight teeth. He was just a beautiful man all around, and now that Amber was sitting right across from him she could see how handsome he was up close.

      Handsome but buttoned up. Literally. It was late and yet he sat there looking almost as pristine as he did when he’d walked in that morning. She had the urge to rumple him up. Get him a little messy. Pop a few buttons on his shirt. Maybe see a bit of that big strong chest he was hiding under there.

      There was no doubt she found him attractive. Not that she was interested or anything. She didn’t mix business with pleasure, and he was technically her boss. But she found him beautiful like an artist might find a sculpture beautiful. All fine lines and strong curves.

      “Have a cookie.” She slid the plate closer to him. She should have just left after she cleaned up, like she had every other time she’d closed the bakery. She should have just gone home, but the


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