Page 19 of Sweetest Temptation
“Well, make sure you keep an eye on her while we are gone. I love you, baby. I know your dad would’ve been proud.”
I smiled at the mention of my pops. He passed away five years ago, and it still stung like it happened yesterday.
Before I could respond, Jamila came barging into my office, that damn tablet glued to her chest. She slowed down her stride when she noticed our mother. Bending down, she kissed our mother on the cheek, smiling, before her mean mug was back on me.
“Samir, why did you turn down the proposal from Zanova’s Tasty Treats? I told you that idea would be good for promotion.”
“The bakery your grandmother gets her cookies from? Oh, I love that place! Her fresh croissants are to die for,” my mother butted in, her face lighting up.
“Yeah. Andyour sonturned down a good deal.” Jamila crossed her arms like she was about to put me on trial.
“Jamila, Fuego Azul doesn’t need any promotion.” I leaned back in my chair, loosening my tie a little. “We’ve been running just fine without linking up with every small business that knocks on the door.”
“Every small business?” she repeated, brows raised. “That woman has a following of ten million on TikTok, lines outside her bakery every weekend, and people shipping orders from across the damn country. That’s not just asmall business. That’s influence. That’s reach.”
“Jamila—” I started, but she cut me off.
“No, you listen. You let your personal feelings get in the way of a good business move. Again. You saw her again and didn’t think straight, did you?”
I didn’t say shit, opting to rub my jaw and stare at her. Jamila narrowed her eyes, like she’d already pieced it together.
“Unbelievable. You didn’t turn her down because of the proposal. You turned her down because you couldn’t keep your dick out of the equation.”
“Jamila!” Our mother hollered out, giving her a sharp glare.
“I’m not lying. Tell me I’m wrong, Samir. Tell Mama the truth. You’re mad because she ghosted your ass a year ago, then acted like she didn’t remember you during the meeting. Now your ego is bruised. Get over it, Samir. Not every woman is going to fall in line just ’cause you own a tequila empire.”
I shot her a look, sharp enough to cut glass. “You talk too damn much.”
She smirked. “And you hate that I’m right.”
Mama sighed, shaking her head. “Lord, every time y’all get in a room together, it’s like World War III. Samir, baby, don’t let your littlefriendmess up something good. You need to keep your focus where it belongs.”
I leaned back in my chair, sighing. “Yeah, I hear you.”
What I wanted to say was, “Ain’t shit little about me,” but I couldn’t say that to my mama. Staying quiet, the silence said more than I wanted it to. My mother just shook her head slowly, disappointment flickering in her eyes, even through her small smile.
“Son, don’t let temptation cloud your judgment. Business and pleasure don’t mix. If that young woman has talent, you’d better make sure you don’t block a blessing for this business just because you can’t control yourself.”
Jamila leaned against the desk, looking smug. “Exactly. You’re always preaching about discipline, but when a pretty face walks in, all that discipline goes out the window.”
I let out a long sigh, leaning back in my chair, staring at the ceiling for a moment before meeting their eyes again. “Y’all don’t get it. Ain’t no woman ever had me like this,” I spoke truthfully and hated it. “I saw something in her… And it wasn’t just business. That’s the problem.”
My mother exchanged a quick look with Jamila before saying softly, “Then maybe that’s the reason you should’ve said yes.”
My sister sighed. “Look, Samir… How about this? Fuego Azul is about to drop soon. How about you let her use it? You and Ms. Pierce can drop both products on the same day.”
Jamila’s voice was sharp but practical, her business mind clicking faster than mine in that moment. She set her tablet on my desk, flipping it around to show mock-ups she’d already put together. Zanova’s cakes, drizzled with blue glaze resembling Fuego Azul, side by side with the sleek cobalt bottle.
“You’re really pushing this, huh?” I asked, raising a brow.
“Because it makes sense…” She was firm in her position. “Cross-promotion. Her followers are loyal. They love her. If she says this new Fuego Azul is the move… Guess what? Millions of people are listening, and possibly half of them will buy. It’s not just about a deal, it’s about growth.”
Our mother nodded, sipping from the water bottle she always carried in her purse. “Jamila’s right. That girl’s bakery already has a good name. You join forces, it’ll only elevate your new tequila, son.”
I leaned back in my chair, jaw tightening as I thought about it. On paper, it made perfect sense. Hell, it was damn near genius. But business wasn’t the problem. The problem was the woman behind it.
“Zanova Pierce,” I muttered under my breath, the sound of her name lingering in my head longer than it should. I could still see the fire in her eyes when she told me I was crazy, and I could still smell her perfume from when we crossed paths in that hallway at the lounge.
