by Kenya Wright
“Eh.” I stopped us in the hallway. “I don’t know why you’re fixing yourself, but you can’t fuck my chef either. I already told Giorgio.”
“What?”
“I’m serious. You can’t fuck her.”
Louis frowned. “Since when?”
“Since now. Staff is off limits. We all agreed. Boundaries, fellas, boundaries.”
“She’s a chef for the restaurant, not your place—”
“I don’t care. The shit is weird. It’s like fucking somebody in my bed or taking a shit in my bathroom.”
“You take a shit in my bathroom all the time.”
“Because for me to take a shit in your bathroom it would be leaving the place better than I found it.” I walked off. Louis’s spots were notorious for being trash piles. If anything, a nice dump improved the ambience. “Sanitation is going to fine you.”
“It’s because my maids keep quitting.”
“Because Giorgio keeps fucking them.”
“I told him to stop and he kept talking about those damn ice skates that his grandmother bought him.”
“The ones you took and used for target practice?”
“I was thirteen.”
“Giorgio’s sign is a cancer. They never let shit go. That’s why I don’t date them.”
“It must be something more than the ice skates.” Louis growled. “Is not that fucking serious, right?”
I was about to respond, as I headed in the kitchen but then I spotted what the big fuss was about with my chef.
You motherfuckers!
The chef was drop dead gorgeous, and it had nothing to do with the way those legs and hips looked in that form fitting white dress, or how those breasts pushed against the material. It wasn’t even the high heels that she donned as she labored for Giorgio in the kitchen.
She had rich brown skin and enticing big brown eyes. They were the first thing I saw. They were blues singer eyes mixing with bedroom ones. Or was it a mingling of dreamy eyes crashing with sleepy. Her eyes were the sort that one noticed first, before they spotted a nose or mouth or anything else.
But damn. . .look at that mouth.
Full, plump, and painted a wine red. The kind of lush lips that wrapped around a cock real nice, and never let go. Dainty nose and long eyelashes. High cheekbones and a slightly pointed chin.
But that was all overshadowed by that hair. It was the biggest thing on her. A massive afro of curls. Her hair wasn’t like Eden’s, which was wavier and long. Gwen had thousands upon thousands of thick candy curls, sticking here and there. And they were all around her, serving more like a halo than hair.
She’d been taking off some sort of netting on her head, when we’d walked in. It was probably to keep all those curls out of the way as she cooked.
“Oh!” Gwen jumped, when she noticed Louis and me silently watching. “I didn’t know you would be here so soon.”
I didn’t have anything to say at first. I’d gotten lost in the sweetness of her voice. And then I just muttered, “Do you sing?”
She laughed and those tiny candy curls bounced with the movement. “Wow. How did you know that?”
“You have a beautiful voice.”
Louis glanced at me with an odd look. “You’re just meeting Gwen?”
I nodded.
He laughed and walked off to the nearest stool. “Loser. She’s been working here forever.”
Shut up, Louis. It’s been some months. And I’ve been busy, sulking over Shalimar not even coming to the restaurant.
Because Shalimar had no interest in the place. I slowly lost interest in the restaurant myself.
Well, now I’m very interested in working on this place. You sly devil, Giorgio.
He was always a sneaky bastard. He’d kept Gwen as secret as much as he could. Telling me a little about her, but not too much.
You never said she was sexy as hell.
Giorgio urged me to meet her, but never really pushed the topic. Eventually, he offered to help me, by being the middle person between us. No big deal. Just a cousin helping a cousin.
Hands off, Giorgio. This one’s mine. She’s my chef after all. Stand aside.
There was something enticing about Gwen.
She noticed me watching her. “Oh. I’m cleaning up. I’ll have the food to you in a minute.”
“Cool.” I needed to get closer to her. “I can help.”
“No worries.” She waved me away. “I’ve got it.”
That you do.
I drank her in as she twisted away.
Nice fat ass. I should be lucky Giorgio hasn’t bent you over in the supply closet yet. Or did he? He’s already banging the waitresses.
She wiped the stove where a couple pots were roasting something delicious. The position offered me a tantalizing view of her profile.
Oh, the things that I can do to that body. Perhaps, you’re just what the doctor ordered. A nice distraction from Shalimar.
My heart ached to even mention her name. I pushed Shalimar out of my mind the best I could and focused on Gwen.
There’s no reason to think about Shalimar now. I’ll be right in front of her face soon.
I swallowed.
Jean-Pierre had questions.
And if she didn’t answer them? No. Move on. Look at Gwen’s titties.
Louis’s voice came from behind me. “Would you like to sit down, Rafael? It’s better to stalk Gwen from the stool.”
She laughed “Very funny, Louis.”
“It’s true,” he whispered.
I walked over to where he was and sat in the stool next to him.
When she walked off, I leaned my head his way. “Don’t even think about it.”
“I called her first,” he whispered back. “Ask Giorgio.”
I kept my voice down. “I’m not asking you or him anything. She’s my chef.”
“But not your slave.”
She returned. “Oh, Louis. I forgot to tell you. I figured you would be picking it up, so I made you some extra.”
I grinned. “And me?”
“Oh.” She opened her mouth in shock. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. . .you would be here. . .uh. What do you like?”
I am a loser.
Louis waved her question away. “Don’t worry, Gwen. He’s not hungry anyway.”
“I am.”
“I can make something quick,” she said.
“No.” Louis shook his head. “We don’t have the time. We’ll grab him a burger or something. He’ll be fine.”
“Well I made a huge amount for you, Louis.” She gave him a soft smile. “So, maybe you can share some with him?”
“That’s sweet.” Louis grinned like a silly teen with a crush. “You didn’t have to do that.”
She winked, and that seductive voice flowed out. “I know you like the sauce, so I put in extra.”
When she turned around, Louis focused his attention on that plump bottom pushing against the skirt. The silly grin returned. He licked his lips. “I do like it. A whole lot.”
I nudged him. “Knock it off. And did you hear the part about sharing?”
“No. I don’t think she said that.”
She glanced over her shoulder. “Mr. Laurent, I’ll be done soon.”
Mr. Laurent? I can’t get a Rafael? Well…I never formally introduced myself.
“Call me, Rafael.” I rose, walked over, and extended my hand, but she’d already turned back around. Still, I stood out there with it extended, hoping that she’d look back and see it. My fingertips were greedy to touch her.
It had been a long rough night, and this morning would prove to be even longer.
Louis snorted and gestured at my hand.
Shut up. I’m just being nice.
Humming, she left the stove and walked over to large cabinets. She still hadn’t noticed me. Her heels clicked on the mirrored floor.
That was the moment I realized that mirrors covered it.
“Hold on.” I put my hands down. �
�What happen to the koi fish tiles in here?”
Searching for something in the cabinets, Gwen bent over, pushing out that plump behind. My cock jerked in my pants. Words had come out of her mouth, but I hadn’t captured any of them.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “What did you say?”
“Oh.” She pulled out a few to-go containers and placed them on the counter. “Giorgio made the call to change the floors, after you assigned him to interior design. He decided to get rid of the koi fish in here.”
Giorgio is lucky he’s in the hospital. And mirror tiles? I expected more style from you, Giorgio. And you were not assigned to interior design!
She walked back to the stove, and that was when I realized why he’d put them there. With a good tilt of the head, one could get a tiny glimpse of her bare thighs and a second peek at pink panties.
Damn. I like that pink on you.
I grunted. “I’ll have to talk to Giorgio about his decisions, later.”
Louis chuckled. “Giorgio made quite a few changes. Did you notice her chef uniform?”
She laughed, left the stove, and turned around for me. “Well, I know Giorgio can be full of it, but it’s fun to dress up.”
I frowned. “Giorgio required my chef to wear a tight white dress and heels?”
“Only when I make his dishes.” She winked again and began filling the containers.
One more cute wink, and I’d have her bent over in the supply closet.
Louis sniffed the air. “Mmmm. This smells good. I can feel New Orleans all around me.”
I turned her way. “That’s where you’re from, right?”
“Yes. Cooking in Paris has always been a dream.”
“Have you gotten to see Paris yet?” Louis asked. Usually he kept quiet. Apparently, the chef motivated him into conversation.
“I’ve gone a few places.”
“I could show you around,” Louis offered.
“No. You’ll be too busy.” I scowled at him.
Was Giorgio, and Louis crazy? If anybody was going to fuck, the new sexy chef, in my restaurant, it was going to be me. And I planned to fuck her right in the restaurant. I’d pound that lovely ass on every table. And then, I would mark her up in the kitchen and supply room, and any other place I could think of.
Yeah. They better back off. This chef is going to be my medicine for Shalimar’s bullshit.
“Gwen, ignore Rafael. I can make time for you.” Louis’s phone rang. He took it out and answered, “Yeah. What? Shit.”
He stormed off and left.
The kitchen went silent, except for Gwen’s soft humming. I tried to think of something to say, but nothing seducing could come to mind. I was off my game. Tired and hungry. Crushed in the head. Eden’s kidnapping had messed me up. Giorgio getting shot didn’t help. And then there was Shalimar’s betrayal, and Jean-Pierre’s erratic, suicidal actions this morning.
Jesus. I’m at a loss for words.
Surely, I had things spinning in my head, but nothing to spark a great conversation.
Hey, girl, I helped my cousin kidnap a chick and start an international war. What are you doing this evening? Maybe if I’m not dead, we can hang out.
Just when I was going to ask her about the weather, Jean-Pierre showed up with Kazimir’s lover on his side.
And the night gets better and better.
It appeared Jean-Pierre and Emily may have had a tussle in the bathroom. Water soaked both of them. Blood dripped from his nose. He only wore his pants. The wet mousy woman now frowned as she wore his buttoned-up shirt. Meanwhile, a few scratches decorated the side of his face.
Only three men surrounded them now.
Jean-Pierre spotted the chef and told them to take Emily in the front.
Yeah. I don’t want to explain to Gwen why there’s a wet, half-naked women in my kitchen.
The men escorted Emily away.
Still, Gwen’s eyes widened as she hurried around the kitchen and finished up. When she walked further back into the main supply room, I looked at Jean-Pierre. “What happened?”
“This Emily is smart and fast.” He dragged himself to a stool by the fridge and sat down. “She was taking too long in the bathroom. Two men went in to check on her, while I was on the phone. They never came out.”
“She killed them?”
“Knocked them out. They’re still sleeping in the bathroom.” He leaned against the wall. “Next, I caught her trying to climb into the floor. Some fucking sewer panel.”
“She was trying to climb into the sewer system?”
“Besides running through old shit and piss, it wouldn’t have been a bad plan.”
Paris had many underground passages—the old, no longer used sewer system, an immense subway system, catacombs, and crypts near Notre Dame. Ordinary citizens didn’t have access to the sewers and most of the other tunnels. But many used these places. In fact, they’d been used by the Corsican throughout history. Others escaped through them. Many held secret meetings. And the few that believed in more fantastical stories, believed that most of the Parisian vampires still strolled down there.
Gwen returned.
“Hi, Jean-Pierre.” She smiled and brought over the bags to me. “How’s Eden?”
Does everyone know Gwen, but me?
Jean-Pierre held a neutral expression. “Eden is. . .doing fine.”
“Good.”
Jean-Pierre spotted the bags. “Okay. Let’s go. We’ve wasted enough time.”
“I’m coming.”
He stormed off.
I turned back to her. For a few seconds, I got lost in those eyes, hearing a song play around me.
She quirked her eyebrows.
“So…we should spend some time together,” I said.
“O-kay.”
“I want to…make some changes. . .in the restaurant.”
“Of course.”
“I see you’ve already changed the menu.”
She blushed. “Giorgio said he would give me the power, but I wanted to get a confirmation from you. He said there was no need, so I tried a few dishes last week.”
“That’s fine. Giorgio and I will talk about that.” I cleared my throat. “I was mad at first, but I’ve heard more people are coming.”
“It’s been packed for the last three nights.”
“Good.” I may not have gotten Shalimar back with the place, but at least something had come out of it. Since the chef’s hiring, everyone had been getting to know her.
Now it was my turn.
I continued, “We should meet one evening. Very soon.”
When we’re all not running from Kazimir.
Gwen gave me a nervous smile. “That sounds good.”
I looked around the kitchen. “Yeah. We could talk about some improvements for the place.”
“Shalimar’s is an amazing restaurant, and it could be even more.”
I frowned, not enjoying that name on her tongue. Gwen’s voice was too beautiful. I sighed. “I’m going to change the name.”
“Oh.”
“The theme too. Something…else.” There were too many memories now. It all had to end. There was no need trying to save the place’s theme or the woman. Both had been lost to me long ago.
“What are you thinking?” Gwen asked.
“I don’t know yet. We can play with your idea of New Orleans cuisine and traditional French dishes.”
Those lovely eyes brightened. “I like that.”
“Of course, we can find a way to include the teriyaki croissants.”
“Oh.” She stirred. “Are you sure we need to keep them?”
“It would be for the hard-core customers that have been here from the beginning. We don’t want to lose the core base—”
“I…I’m not sure there were any fans of the teriyaki croissants.”
I shrugged. “Maybe a few people?”
“Actually, our yelp review score is the lowest in Paris with many of the reviewers saying they wouldn’t come
back due to the croissants.”
“Well, we will figure something out.”
Police sounded off in the distance.
Sirens came next.
“Paris has been wilding out this morning.” She hugged herself. “We’ve got this terrorist running around the city. Did you hear about the shooting at that one hotel? They almost caught him.”
“That’s crazy.”
“And then some sicko stole a family of lions from the zoo. Not that the police have time to find the lions, when they’re searching for the terrorist.”
Lions from the zoo? What are the chances that it’s only a funny coincidence?
Jean-Pierre called from the front. “Rafael, we should go!”
Jesus Christ, man.
“Don’t worry about any of that. Paris will always be fine.” I pulled out my phone. “What’s your number? I’ll call you, and my number will be in yours. If you ever get scared or are in danger, call me. I’ll be there. In fact. . . let’s close down the restaurant for a few days.”
I planned to have Louis put some men on Gwen later. One never knew what could happen in the next couple of days. Kazimir knew the restaurant. He could try to attack my staff.
“Are you sure?” She blinked.
“Yes.”
“Thank you. That’s really nice.” For some reason she looked sad, or disappointed as she gave me the numbers.
I dialed her phone. It rang off near the supply room. Once it rang three times, I turned the phone off and stared at her. “What happened to that smile?”
“I…well. . .it’s not a big deal.”
“Go ahead.”
“I understand this is your business, so you have a right to make decisions, especially on a day like today. It’s just that I needed those extra hours this week to make the rent. My sister and her little son are living with me. I’m kind of taking care of everybody.”
My interests peaked even more. A family girl with a big heart, struggling to survive and doing it all with a smile. This would be a change from the women I usually met. While she had the body type I loved: curves and a fat ass for days, hips that would make my cock sing and breasts to lick and nipples to suck, her heart would be the thing that would trap me.
I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. The thought made me nervous. I’d just put myself out there with one woman. I’d made a fool of myself in front of everyone for years. Even the restaurant was a symbol of the stupidity of it all.