by Zuri Day
“Like what?”
“Like you and Randall. Is everything okay?”
“Why do you keep asking me that?”
“Because I don’t trust the answer you’ve given so far.”
“Look, if I decide to step out on hubby, you’ll be the first to know. Instead of worrying who I’m with, why don’t you focus on Nick.”
“Joy, he looked so fine today, I could barely stand it.”
“Standing isn’t the position you should be thinking about.”
“It’s too late. He’s seeing Angelica again.”
“No, he is not.”
“How do you know?”
Shoot, Joy, you and your big mouth. The day Joy called him, Nick had told her exactly how he and Angelica had ended up at Stanfords, and how much he loved Tiffany. “Did he stay with Angelica in the restaurant that night, or follow your fleeing behind out to the parking lot?”
“Oh, shut up, who asked you?”
“I rest my case.”
“You need to, because it’s a tired one.”
There was a moment of silence, and then Joy and Tiffany cracked up laughing.
44
“Angelica! You look great!”
“I know it.” Angelica really meant this statement but she offered the obligatory giggle behind it as if she were joking. “You look good, too, Christina.” In a Catherine Zeta-Jones on a bad hair day sort of way. “You’re working that cut. Didn’t Victoria Beckham wear that look last year?”
“No, hers was shorter. This is more like Kelly Clarkson from a couple years ago.”
And that’s a good thing?
“I just got up the nerve to cut my hair.”
“You want a coffee, macchiato, Frapp? I’m buying.”
After Angelica and Christina received their orders, they settled at an outside table of the Starbucks on Little Santa Monica Boulevard. Normally such a place was a bit too common for Angelica, but she didn’t want to chance Nick seeing her and she was fairly certain that wouldn’t happen here.
After about ten minutes of general chitchat, Angelica got down to why she’d asked Christina to meet. “So, how’s your handsome boss?”
“Still as gorgeous as ever.”
“Still working too hard, probably.”
“Yes, especially since he’s working on plans to open a second Taste location.”
Angelica’s ears perked up, as did her body. “Really?”
“Oh, no, you don’t know about that? I’m sorry, I probably shouldn’t have said anything. I know you guys are still friends and thought that you talked.”
“We do,” Angelica said quickly to quell Christina’s doubts. “And of course I knew about the second location. I just didn’t know he’d actually put the plans in motion. When he discussed it with me, it was just an idea. You know I spend much of my time in Chicago these days.”
“Right, with the the finance guy. Sounds like things are heating up.”
“Are they ever.” Angelica dropped a few tidbits about her life with Keith in Chicago—eating at Table Fifty-Two, owned by Oprah’s ex-chef, shopping on Michigan Avenue, and attending Bulls games with Michael Jordan—then she steered the conversation back to Nick. “So, tell me. What’s going with Nick and Tiffany? You know he never did like to talk much about his private life, and I didn’t want to pry. But he works so hard. I worry about him.”
“I don’t know.” Christina shrugged. “I guess they’re okay. She’s in his office all the time, fixing private lunches and stuff. He eats at the restaurant regularly. Guess he likes her cooking, among other things.”
This was not the news that Angelica wanted to hear. Even though she’d already vowed to destroy him, it bothered her that Tiffany was getting the good loving that she’d given up. “Nick has really lowered his standards to sleep with the help,” she said dismissively, hiding her anger.
“I think she’s a little more than that.”
“Why would you say that?”
“Um, I don’t know if I should say anything. It’s something I accidentally saw on Nick’s desk, in a file marked confidential. I think he’s planning it as a surprise.”
“I’d never betray a friend’s confidence, Christina. You can tell me.”
Christina looked around and leaned forward. “The new restaurant he’s planning is called Taste Too, and it’s for Tiffany.”
45
Nick stood still under the pulsating showerhead. Even after a two-hour workout, he still felt wound up. Hell, brothah, you are wound up. And the one person with whom he wanted to unwind was still stuck on stubborn. Sponging his hard body with a natural soap of palm oil, shea butter, and aloe vera extract, Nick smiled as he recalled Tiffany in his office earlier that day. She’d tried to stay nonchalant, but he knew he’d worked a nerve or two. It was no accident that when she came in, he’d taken off his suit jacket, unbuttoned a couple buttons, and rolled up his sleeves. He didn’t consider himself a vain man, but he knew he had a little “sumpin, sumpin” to offer the ladies. He kept an extra bottle of her favorite cologne in his desk drawer, and had purposely stepped in and leaned over as she described the ingredients of the seafood paella, a Spanish dish, he’d asked her to prepare. Like everything else she cooked, it was amazing, and gave him confidence when it came to the plans for his second restaurant, Taste Too. It would have the same ambience, décor, and standard dishes as Taste, but instead of Italian, it would boast a cosmopolitan theme—taste-sized offerings from all over the world. The input she provided and dishes she created were for her own restaurant. Nick laughed out loud at the reaction he imagined would happen when he told her about that! She’ll be a perfect partner, he thought, not only because of her passion for cooking but also because of her culinary creativity and eye for eating trends. Because of her observations, this restaurant would also offer a diverse array of vegetarian and vegan dishes. He, too, had been following the meatless industry, and with its increasing popularity, especially in California, and Americans becoming more diet and health conscious, he knew that now was the time to put his foot more deeply into those waters.
Nick stepped out of the shower and toweled himself dry. He lazily dried his dick and thought about Tiffany. While a lover of all things intimate, Nick had always been a discriminating man. And now, if the woman wasn’t Tiffany, he was an uninterested one as well.
After putting on his favorite pajama bottoms, made from fifteen-hundred-thread-count Egyptian cotton, Nick walked into his den, a room he rarely visited. He brushed a hand over the seven-foot-tall plants that framed the doorway as he took in the warm surroundings. In the corner was a baby grand, not because Nick played piano but because he hoped his children would. He walked over to the glistening instrument, lifted the lid, and randomly fingered keys. Tiffany will make a great mother. These thoughts were all the more reason why Nick was determined to succeed with the venture in China. This single deal would make him and his lineage financially independent.
Nick heard his phone ring and walked over to answer it. When he saw it was Bastion, he almost didn’t pick up. Seconds later, he wished he hadn’t.
“Someone is definitely trying to elbow us out of China. If they convince the local partners that their money and short-term plan is a more secure investment, we’re screwed.”
Nick resisted the urge to pound his fist on the marble sofa table he was standing by. “What do you know?” His voice was deadly calm.
“Not what, but who. Keith Bronson. Do you know him?”
Nick’s mind raced to place the name. It sounded familiar, but how? From whom? He relayed this to Bastion.
“Well, here’s what I know. He’s a broker with a medium-size firm but major connections.”
“Where’s he from?”
“Chicago.”
Chicago. Angelica! “You said Chicago?”
“Right, ring a bell?”
“Unfortunately, it rings two. Let me make a phone call. I’ll call you back.”
“Call my cell if it�
��s late. I don’t want to wake Jill.”
Nick ended the call to Bastion but didn’t immediately make another one. So this is the man Angelica is dating. How much does she know? Angelica was nobody’s fool; chances were slim she knew nothing of his business interests. And if that was the case, how was she involved in this Bronson guy trying to cut Nick and his partners out of the deal?
Nick reached for the phone but, on second thought, put it back on the cradle and walked toward his bedroom. Once there, he quickly exchanged his pj’s for a pair of jeans and a simple black pullover. This business with Angelica, he decided, was much better done in person. He didn’t want to give her a heads up with a phone call, so he hoped she was home.
46
Angelica started from a deep sleep. Was that my doorbell? She sat up, disheveled, disoriented. There it was again. Someone was definitely ringing her bell at—she looked at the clock—midnight! Angelica passed a hand over her eyes and looked again. Surely she was still asleep, because none of the men she messed with would dare come to her house without calling, especially at this time of night. Nobody, that is, except…
In one fell swoop, Angelica tossed back the covers and hopped out of bed. There was only one man who would have the audacity to ring her bell at this hour. She sauntered to the living room door, not bothering to cover her nudity. Anybody bold enough to come calling at midnight would have to be able to handle what was on the other side of the door. She looked through the peephole and smiled. It was just as she’d figured.
“Nick?” she said in a raspy voice. She peeked from behind the door, allowing her hair to partially cover her face.
“I need to talk to you, Angelica.”
“Right now?”
“Uh, that would be the reason I’m standing here, yes.”
“Nick, it’s late. How do you know I don’t have company?”
“Tell whoever it is that this won’t take long.”
“You’re pretty bold,” Angelica said, stepping away from the door. “Come in.”
Nick took a step inside and stopped. He didn’t expect Angelica to be naked, but on second thought, that was exactly what he should have planned for. “I’ll wait until you put something on.”
“Well, you’ll be waiting till morning. You know I sleep nude.” Angelica continued into her living room and called out, “I’m only giving you five minutes, so I suggest you start talking.”
Nick took a deep, calming breath. Now was not the time to go off. If he was going to get any information on Keith Bronson from Angelica, he needed to keep things cordial. He stayed in the hallway and began talking without looking at Angelica. “I heard some interesting news today.”
Angelica turned the dimmer on low and reclined on the couch. “You hear interesting news every day, so I hope you didn’t come over for that. Are you really going to stand in the hallway, Nick? Isn’t that a bit childish for someone who knows me as well as you do?”
“I’m respecting your relationship with Keith Bronson.”
“What Keith doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”
“Did you think it would hurt me, Angelica? Is that why you hooked up with him, because you knew he was vying for the China conglomerate?”
Ah, so that’s why you’re here. “My world used to revolve around you, Nick. But not anymore.”
Nick didn’t buy that line for a minute, but he let it pass. “Who’s he working with? Are all his partners located in Chicago?”
“Keith is old school. He doesn’t believe his woman’s place is to involve herself in his business affairs.”
Nick walked even farther away from Angelica as he continued, crossing the living room and standing in front of the fireplace, with his back to her. But he continued to use the information he’d received during another call from Bastion on his drive to her home, offering yet another name. “Not involved? So you’ve never been to a dinner party with him, or any of his associates?”
“Yes, but Stan didn’t add titles when he made introductions. He just wanted to show me off.”
Nick’s jaw clenched as he closed his eyes. If Angelica was lying, and he was sure she was, then she was probably knee-deep in whatever waters were swirling around the Chicago elite and the players of the company trying to usurp them. His thoughts were interrupted by a hand on his back. Angelica had walked up on him soundlessly and, after his eyes flew open, she leaned her body into him. “I’m sorry I don’t have information for you. Is there anything I can do to make up for that fact?”
Nick turned and quickly walked around Angelica. Granted, she was a beautiful woman, but how had he stayed with her four years and not seen the extent of this manipulative side of her?
“Sorry to disturb you, Angelica. Good-bye.” Nick covered the distance from where he was to the door in long strides. It was clear that he was not going to get anything from Angelica tonight…not anything that he wanted.
Angelica eyed the door that Nick exited. She looked at the clock on the wall—twelve-thirty…two-thirty in Chicago. Probably not a good idea to call at this hour. With purpose, Angelica walked to her bedroom, retrieved her iPhone, and sent a text:
Hey, baby. Please call me as soon as you get this. Someone here in LA is asking questions about you and the venture you’re doing in China. I might have some useful information.
47
It almost felt like old times. Tiffany and Nick sat eating lunch at the table in his office. As usual, Tiffany had outdone herself. It was a dish she called “Seafood Symphony,” a combination of shrimp, scallops, clams, and lobster claws, cooked in a spiced wine reduction and plated atop a mound of angel hair pasta.
“This is delicious, baby, I’m sorry, Ms. Matthews.” There was a twinkle in Nick’s eye as he chewed his food.
“Okay, Nick,” she said pointedly. “Maybe we’ve gotten past the point where we have to use last names as additional barriers. Personally, I’m glad we can be civil again. We both share this love for food and quality restaurants and, well, I’d really like to continue working with Chef Wang and improving the diversity and ingenuity of food at Taste.”
“What would you think about a place of your own?” The question came out before Nick could stop it, but since it had, he anxiously awaited her answer. Her reaction delighted him even as it made his heart skip a beat.
“Are you kidding?” Tiffany’s eyes shone wide with excitement. “That is my ultimate dream. To have a cute little spot with amazing, somewhat exotic food, a funky bar menu…” Tiffany looked away and into the future. She wasn’t aware of the sexy smile simmering on her face.
“I probably should wait to tell you this, but…”
Tiffany’s head whipped around to look at Nick. “But what?”
“I’ve been kicking an idea around for a while, a different kind of establishment for the LA crowd. The success of this location bears out the fact that with the right marketing to the right people, this part restaurant, part see-and-be-seen spot could be successful from day one. And with the right chef, of course, one who’s willing to think outside the box, come up with fresh ideas.” Nick’s eyes bored into Tiffany’s.
“Me?” Tiffany breathed.
Nick simply smiled.
“Oh, Nick!” In her excitement, Tiffany forgot her new “never touch Nick” rule, leaned over, and threw her arms around him.
Nick returned the favor, closing his eyes as he hugged the body he’d been missing for two months. Within seconds, his hands were roaming over her back, and lower…. With a mind of its own, his mouth sought and found Tiffany’s, and a kiss prevailed, a kiss that neither of them could stop. The passion that both had tried to restrain when around each other was unleashed. Nick pulled Tiffany from her chair into his lap, devouring her mouth as he had devoured her “symphony” seconds before.
“Oh, baby…” he moaned, placing a hand under her top, finding and tweaking a nipple. “Baby, I’ve missed this so much. I want you so much.” He deepened the kiss, slid his tongue along her neck and ears befor
e reclaiming her mouth—heated, desperate.
Nick’s words wound through the cloud of passion pulsating through every fiber of Tiffany’s being. Missed this…want you… She willed her body to follow her brain’s directive and pull away from this man. He’d just offered her a restaurant. She couldn’t let physical need get in the way of mental clarity. She and Nick could be great together, as long as their relationship didn’t venture beyond business.
Tiffany’s mind thought that, but her body refused to listen. It was as if she were a desert, and Nick water, filling up her dry places, tamping down her heat. He pulled up her top and she welcomed it. He tongued her nipple into hardness even as his hand sought a lower paradise. Her legs opened involuntarily and she reached for the zipper of his pants, feeling wanton and wild and ready for Nick to take what had always been his.
“Excuse me, Mr. Rollins?” Christina’s voice chirped through the intercom.
Nick didn’t slow his pace or remove the tongue reaching for Tiffany’s tonsils.
“An urgent call from Mr. Price…. Mr. Rollins?”
Damn. “Um, baby, I have to take this,” he whispered softly. And then a bit louder, to Christina, “Tell him I’ll be right with him.”
Tiffany attempted to move from Nick’s lap even as she struggled to slow her breathing. Good. A reality check. A phone call to remind me of Nick’s priorities. She tried again to remove herself from Nick’s grip.
“No,” he said softly, “I won’t let you leave me.” He lifted her away from him, but keeping her hand, walked them both over to Nick’s desk…as easily as he could with his engorged manhood standing both at attention and in protest. When he reached his desk, he sat down and pulled Tiffany down with him. He hit the speaker button. “Bastion.”
“Nick, I’ve just gotten off the phone with the other partners. We need to go to Vegas, buddy. Some things are going down and we need to be there.”
“When?”