Jason Bryant whipped the Ford Explorer into the parking lot of Aminatuâs Daughters and parked right behind Sara Mintonâs cherry-red Mustang convertible, thereby blocking her exit. If there was one thing he knew about Sara, it was that she was a hard woman to pin down. This way, she wasnât going anywhere until heâd issued his invitation.
He climbed out of the SUVâs cab, his long muscular legs flexing beneath a pair of Wrangler jeans. The heels of brown leather cowboy boots announced his arrival as he walked across the hardwood floor of the bookstore.
He noticed right away that there was another strange woman behind the counter in the coffeehouse section of the bookstore. Strange, in that she was new to him.
The rate of employee turnover at Aminatuâs Daughters astounded him. Heâd counted more than ten new employees within the past year. All of them had been women and all of them had been brown-skinned. They worked a few weeks, and then moved on.
He made a point of speaking to each and every one of them in order to prove his theory that none of them could claim English as their native tongue. The woman today was in her early twenties, had dusky brown skin, dark brown eyes and a very short afro.
Jason walked up to the counter. âHi, how are you? Iâm looking for Sara. Sheâs here, isnât she?â
âWe have wonderful mocha lattes,â the woman said cheerfully. She turned to gesture to the coffee machine behind her.
âThank you, no,â said Jason. He smiled gently. He couldnât be sure, but he would wager that she was South African. She had the same lilting cadence to her voice as Nelson Mandela: a musical tone that was beautiful to the ear.
Upon hearing that he did not want a mocha latte, her expression became so sad that he changed his mind. âOh, okay, Iâll take a small one.â
She smiled broadly. âMiss Sara is working in her office,â she said once the sale was under her belt.
Jason laughed softly. It was obvious she intended to earn her keep around there.
âThank you. Iâll be back for my coffee.â He turned and walked across the bookstore section and into the hallway. The first door he came to was the storage room. The second was the employee lounge. Next, he came to Saraâs office. The door was closed.
He knocked and waited.
âCome in!â he heard Saraâs distinctive husky voice call.
When he walked in Sara was sitting behind her desk, and Gary Pruitt was sitting on the corner of it looking right at home. He was wearing an expensive suit, as usual. Jason didnât think heâd ever seen the man in anything except a suit. But then Gary was the most successful attorney in town. He had to look professional. Jason, who used to work as an attorney himself, could recall how looking professional was a part of the job.
These days, as a gentleman farmer, his chosen title for his job as a vintner, he wore jeans or khakis and sturdy denim shirts. The last time heâd worn a suit it had been to his brother Franklynâs wedding, which had taken place over a year ago.
âAm I interrupting anything?â Jason asked lightly as he entered the room.
âNo, no,â Sara said quickly. She rose and Jason leaned over and gave her a peck on the cheek. Her smooth brown skin had a light flowery scent and, as always, Jasonâs heartbeat accelerated as a result of being near her.
Jason straightened and Sara gestured to the chair in front of her desk before she sat back down. âHave a seat. Gary was just telling me that he and Kat are having a dinner party next Saturday night and wanted to know if you and I could come.â
Jason brightened. He knew he had no reason to be jealous of Gary. All indications were that he was happily married. He was a newlywed, in fact. But why did he have to spend so much time with Sara?
âIf you can, I can,â he told Sara. Oftentimes, her schedule was packed tighter than his. Unless there was some kind of an emergency at the winery like a wine press breaking down, he worked only from sunup to sunset. On the other hand it wasnât unusual for Sara to be called away at a momentâs notice.
He never knew the life of a bookstore owner was so exciting. He had noticed, too, that practically every time she went out of town, either a new employee arrived or an old one departed. There had to be some connection there.
âBarring emergencies, Iâm free,â Sara said.
âSee you at eight,â Gary said, rising. âThereâll be six of us and weâre having seafood.â
âIâll bring a few bottles of our best Chardonnay,â Jason offered.
âIâm looking forward to it,â Gary said with sincerity. The Bryant Chardonnay was among the most delicious in the wine world.