The Sweetest Temptation. Rochelle Alers
the flavors of an Italian cannoli filing: ricotta, chocolate, pistachios and orange peel.
The sisters returned. Tessa offered to uncork the bottle of wine while Faith ladled the steaming chowder into soup bowls. Her cell phone rang, and before she could tell Simone not to answer it, she’d picked it up.
“Good evening, Let Them Eat Cake.” Simone knew Faith used her cell phone exclusively for business.
“May I please speak to Faith Whitfield,” said a deep male voice.
Simone’s eyebrows lifted slightly. “Who shall I say is calling?”
“Ethan McMillan.”
Simone covered the mouthpiece with her thumb. “It’s Ethan McMillan.”
Faith’s breath caught in her chest before she let it out slowly. “Ask him if he can leave a number so I can call him back.”
Simone repeated Faith’s request. “Hold on while I get something to write with.” She gestured for something to write, and Faith handed her a pen and paper from the magnetic pad attached to the side of the refrigerator. Simone wrote down the number, then repeated it for accuracy. She was smiling when she ended the call. “Who’s the brother with the X-rated voice?”
Faith schooled her expression not to reveal what she was feeling at the moment—a rush of excitement for a man who’d managed to affect her more than she wanted, a man whose very presence disturbed and piqued her curiosity.
“How do you know he’s a brother?” she asked Simone as they sat down.
“Don’t play yourself, cousin,” Simone drawled as she placed a cloth napkin over her lap. “Only brothers are blessed with voices that deep.”
Tessa peered closely at Faith. “Who is he?”
Faith knew that if she didn’t give the two a plausible explanation, then they would pester her throughout dinner. She could lie and say he was a client, but she’d never lied to her cousins and didn’t want to start now.
“He’s someone I promised to go out with.”
Tessa shared a smile with Simone. “I’m going to ask you one question, then I’m going to get out of your business.” Faith nodded. “Is he what Aunt Edie would call ‘potential husband material’?” Faith’s mother had lectured them sternly once they’d begun dating, saying, “Every man you date should be considered a potential husband. If not, then don’t waste your time.”
Faith filled the wineglasses with the pale wine rather than meet Tessa’s questioning gaze. “I’ll reserve comment. First I have to find out whether he’s a frog.”
“Ribbit!” Simone croaked.
Faith and Tessa burst out laughing, setting the tone for an evening of good food and a closeness that had begun with earlier generations of Whitfield women.
Tessa pushed back her chair and stood up. “I forgot to give you Bridget’s gift.” She retrieved her purse and took out a small gaily wrapped box, handing it to Faith.
Simone and Tessa stared at Faith as she removed the paper, opened a small black velvet box and stared numbly at a pair of thirteen-millimeter Tahitian pearl earrings suspended from a drop clasp of bezel-set diamonds.
“Oh, my!” Faith gasped in awe. “They are stunning!”
“I got the same pair,” Simone said.
Faith smiled at Tessa. “I’m going to wear them at your wedding.”
“Speaking of weddings, Faith,” Tessa began softly, “I’d like to ask you if you’d be my maid of honor.”
A rush of tears filled Faith’s eyes. She blinked them back before they fell. “I’d be honored, Tessa. How many attendants do you plan to have?”
“That’s going to depend on Micah. He’s asked his father to be his best man, and his two brothers will be groomsmen. You’ll be my maid of honor, Simone a bridesmaid and I’m thinking of asking Micah’s sister-in-law whether her teenage daughter can be a bridesmaid.”
Faith wrinkled her pert nose. “Isn’t it going to feel funny planning your own wedding?”
“I’m not,” Tessa admitted smugly. “Simone’s going to be my wedding planner.”
“You’re kidding, aren’t you?” Faith asked, an expression of shock freezing her features.
Simone shook her head. “No, she’s not.”
A blush suffused Tessa’s face. “Micah and I have decided to begin trying for a baby as soon as we’re married. And if that happens, then I’d like to have a backup person in case of morning sickness, bloated ankles and when I’m too fat to bend over to tie up my shoes.”
Faith waved her hand. “Please, Tessa. Knowing you, you’ll probably design a wardrobe that will make you Brooklyn’s most tricked-out mother-to-be. Speaking of Brooklyn, do you still plan to live there after you’re married?”
Tessa nodded. “Yes. Micah sold his Bronx condo to Bridget and Seth, and he only has six months left on his Staten Island rental. I’ve put a lot of money into the brownstone, so I’ve decided to keep it.”
Reaching for her wineglass, Faith raised it in a toast. “To Tessa and Signature Bridals.”
Simone and Tessa followed suit, touching glasses in a toast to Signature Bridals.
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