Chapter 6 - Attractive Options

James trudged into his large house and was greeted by the smell of something delicious coming from the kitchen where he knew he'd find Mrs. Garcia. He often referred to her as his house keeper, but she was so much more than that. She lived in the suite attached to the kitchen of his home and handled all the cleaning, cooking, and general maintenance. Her children were grown with children of their own and her husband had passed away many years ago. She took pride in her appearance and it was impossible to guess her age just by looking at her. Mrs. Garcia worked with more energy than any teenager and was rarely without a smile on her face. This made her appear quite young in James's eyes. On the other hand, the way she fussed over him and always encouraged him to eat more, she felt very much like a grandmother. She would even refer to him as "mijo" on a regular basis. It was an affectionate Spanish term meaning something like "my son". He had initially fought Mrs. Garcia's overfamiliarity, but gave up the effort quickly. Despite technically being his employee, she tended to get her way. He blamed his soft spot for her on her amazing cooking.

Traveling quickly through the house, James set his brief case down on the foyer table. Not wanting to interrupt Mrs. Garcia, he pulled out a wooden stool and sat waiting eagerly at the counter where he ate most of his meals. He liked watching the way she bustled about, somehow tackling five things at once. Mrs. Garcia turned slightly in his direction and jumped back screaming "Aye, mijo! Don't scare me like that! What are you doing coming in here so quiet? You think my heart can take it at my age?" James had zero concerns about his beloved housekeeper dying of fright, but still, he felt bad for scaring her. "I'm sorry. Really, I didn't scare you on purpose" he explained, trying not to laugh. Cautiously, he asked "Have you been wearing those hearing aids I got you?" Mrs. Garcia gave him a sharp look and said "I don't need those things. I hear just fine. Your feet are the ones that don't make enough noise. Maybe I should buy you some wooden shoes?" James could only laugh and decided to drop it for now. Knowing she had won this time, she resumed her efforts at the stove.

Soon, Mrs. Garcia had set a large plate of chicken mole verde in front of him. This included Spanish rice, refried black beans, and homemade corn tortillas on the side. She had even made a fresh batch of salsa with serrano and chile pequin peppers. One of Mrs. Garcia's responsibilities was to maintain a small greenhouse in the back yard that grew many of the ingredients she used on a daily basis. As a result, James had a constant supply of salsa. He happily ate his fill before grabbing a glass of homemade limeade from the fridge. He had raved to Mrs. Garcia throughout the meal, but decided to thank her one more time before heading to his study. "Thank you again. Everything was so good. I really needed something delicious tonight." She waved James away without a word but didn't bother to hide the pleased smile on her face as she cleaned up.

James soon found himself upstairs at his desk, engrossed in the five profiles Cadence had given him earlier. It felt overwhelming and it didn't take long before he decided to slip some tequila into his drink. He decided to consider the women one at a time. First, there was Alicia Monroe. She was tall and leggy with sleek blond hair and bright green eyes. She was an old family friend and he could remember seeing her at numerous events and parties throughout the years. She came from old money but was anything but shallow. Alicia was currently running a non-profit for Veterans that focused on providing affordable housing communities and job placement. She was definitely a contender.

The second option was Danica Jones. She was an exotic beauty; half African-American and half Guatemalan. She used to head up the HR department at Oliver Enterprises. This was until she left the company due to burn out and put all her savings into opening a food truck downtown called Guat-the-Heck!. She served Guatemalan-Southern fusion food and would frequently sell out. James was addicted to the Papa's Pepian, her take on a traditional chicken stew thickened with ground pumpkin seeds. She served it with spicy corn muffins on the side. He ate there so frequently, Danica would joke about needing to name a menu item after him. James wasn't sure how Mrs. Garcia would feel about having competition in kitchen.

Next, James considered his third option, Christina Mendez. She was a private tennis instructor at the Country Club he belonged to and they often had friendly matches against each other. Their relationship was primarily tennis related but they'd enjoyed a few casual meals together at the club. She was possibly the most beautiful one with smooth tan skin, impossibly full lips, long dark wavy hair, and an insane body.

His fourth option was Hannah Bell. She was effortlessly pretty and didn't seem to even own makeup. She had kind green eyes and almost always had her light brown hair pulled up in a pony tail. Hannah used to be his neighbor in an expensive apartment complex and they'd bonded over their love of football. He still went to her Super Bowl party every year and they'd been to a few Cowboys games together. She was working as a physician at a sports medicine facility.

Lastly, his fifth option was Whitney Hughes. On paper, she was perfectly suited to him. She was a successful business woman, having acquired multiple tech start ups in Austin. Her company, WH Solutions provided a variety of software that could be tailored to your business's needs. She primarily served small businesses, of which there were plenty in Austin. In this way, she was not exactly a direct competitor of his but it was likely that she would become one in the future. She had fair skin and dark red hair that mirrored her fiery personality.

"Shit" he said to himself as he downed the last of his spiked limeade. James grimaced at the odd and difficult decision he had to make in a very short amount of time. He was going to need a second opinion.