“What do you plan to serve at your supper club?”
“I’m leaning toward tapas.”
Gage gave her a quick glance. “In other words, you’ll serve appetizers rather an entrées.”
“Yes, only because I plan to offer a fusion cuisine. Of course there will be quite a few popular appetizers, along with sushi, Asian, French, Spanish, and Mediterranean dishes.”
“Don’t you think that’s a little daunting?”
Tonya stared out the windshield as she chose her words carefully. Did he actually believe she would attempt to run a restaurant without having a concrete plan in place? “No. Once I train my staff, it shouldn’t be daunting.” She wasn’t a man hater, but Tonya had come to realize that it was men who openly expressed doubt whenever she mentioned running her own restaurant, while most women encouraged her to go for it.
“Good luck with that,” Gage said under his breath.
The drive ended in complete silence, and when he maneuvered up to the front of DuPont House, Tonya didn’t wait for Gage to come around and assist her. “Thanks for the ride.” She didn’t bother to give him a backward glance as she walked up the steps to the porch. She opened and closed the door and exhaled an audible breath.
There was something about his tone when wishing her luck that reminded Tonya of her ex-husband whenever he had attempted to discourage her from returning to college. After a while she learned to ignore his subtle digs, and in the end she promised herself not to let the naysayers or doubters affect her decision to determine her future.
She walked through the entryway to the parlor to find Jasmine sitting on a loveseat reading a magazine. The muted television was tuned to the New Orleans Saints’ game. Her head popped up. “Nydia and I were talking about sending out Nawlins’ finest to find you.”
Tonya flopped down on an armchair. “I went to Chez Toussaints so Eustace could show me how he makes some of his dishes.” She paused. “Where’s everyone?”
Jasmine closed the magazine. “LeAnn and Paige went to the Saints’ football game, and Nydia’s taking a nap. She claims she’s exhausted.”
“That’s because once the dancing began she never sat down,” Tonya reminded Jasmine.
“Word,” Jasmine drawled. “I can remember a time when my weekends would begin on Thursdays and not end until Sunday morning.”
Partying had never been an option for Tonya. “It was different with me. I met Samuel while I was still in high school, and because he was raised in a church where dancing and drinking were frowned upon, we didn’t go out.”
“What did you guys do for fun?”
A melancholy frown flitted over her features. “Now that I look back, I realize we never had much fun. We’d get together with family members for Sunday dinner or on holidays, but that was the extent of our so-called fun.” She waved her hand. “I don’t want to talk about the past.”
Jasmine nodded. “Okay. I need for you to give me your opinion about someone.”
Tonya’s curiosity is piqued. “Is it a he or a she?”
“It’s Cameron Singleton.”
“What about him?” she asked, when she wanted to tell her friend that the man hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off her during the reception.
“He asked to take me out.”
Tonya settled back into the chair; her impassive expression did not reveal what she was feeling. It appeared that whatever Cameron wanted, he was willing to go after. “And what did you tell him?”
Jasmine lowered her eyes. “I told him that wasn’t possible because I was leaving today to go back to New York.”
“And what did he say?”
“He claims he comes to New York every May to hang out with his college buddies, and if I’m available then, he would like to take me out.”
“And what did you say?” She had asked Jasmine yet another question.
“I told him I didn’t know where I would be or what I would be doing seven months from now, so I couldn’t give him an answer.”
Tonya shook her head in exasperation. “Did you at least give the man your number?”
“Yes.”
“Well, well, well. You did something right.”
Vertical lines appeared between Jasmine’s eyes. “Why would you say that?”
“He’s only asking for one date. You preach to Nydia about seeing someone other than her trifling boyfriend, and meanwhile you need to take your own advice. You’ve been divorced for nearly two years, and it’s time you started dating again.”
“I’m not ready for a relationship,” Jasmine argued softly.
“No one said anything about a relationship, Jazz. Go out with different men, and just have a good time. That’s the only way you’re going to get over that slug you married.”
“Is that what happened to you, Tonya? You didn’t get over your ex until you hooked up with Darius?”
“I’d gone out with several men before I met Darius. They were co-workers, and I’d promised myself that I would never get that involved with a co-worker, because if we broke up then I would have to see them every day.”
“So, what did you do when you dated them?”
“We would take turns cooking for each other, or when we were off we would go on drives out to Long Island or Upstate New York to eat in little out-of-the-way restaurants to sample the dishes on their menus. I dated one guy who was into old black-and-white movies, and we’d spend hours watching them. In other words, we became good friends.”
“What makes Darius different from the others?”
Tonya crossed her feet at the ankles. “I’m allowed to be who I am. Whenever I tell him I can’t see him because either I’m too tired, or I have to work a party, he doesn’t give me grief or attitude. In other words, I have the freedom to live my life however I want.”
Jasmine closed her eyes for several seconds. “Have you told him you’re planning to move down here?”
Tonya shook her head. “Not yet. I’ll tell him once I get back. Hannah and I still have to go over a few things in our contract.”
“Does he ever talk about marriage?”
A hint of a smile lifted the corners of Tonya’s mouth. “No.”
“Not ever?”
“Maybe once. When we first met, I told him I was divorced, and he told me he wasn’t husband material.”
“What did he mean, he wasn’t husband material?” Jasmine asked.
“I never asked.”
Jasmine pulled her lip between her teeth as she appeared deep in thought. “What kind of vibes did you get from Cameron?”
Tonya decided to tell her what she’d witnessed. “That he’s a man who goes after what he wants.”
An expression of uncertainty flitted over Jasmine’s features. “I hope you’re not talking about me.”
“No, I’m not,” Tonya lied smoothly. She didn’t want to frighten her friend into rejecting a man who appeared interested in her. Five months ago she hadn’t known anything about Jasmine’s personal life; however, the day she, Hannah, Jasmine, and Nydia were downsized with dozens of other employees had become one that had changed their lives forever. Former employees of the investment bank, they were now friends and soon-to-be business partners.
“I know you have a problem with trust because of your ex,” Tonya continued, “but there has to come a time when you let go of the past. Look at Hannah. If she hadn’t gotten over her late husband’s infidelity, she never would’ve married St. John. Some men cheat. That’s just what they do, Jazz, and you need to understand that they’re probably in a minority, or the institution of marriage would never survive.”
“How did we go from my going out on a date with Cameron to marrying him?”
“You’re the one who mentioned marriage. All I’m saying is go out with the man. What do you have to lose?”
The seconds ticked, and then Jasmine said, “I’ll think about it.”
You do that, Tonya thought. There were times when she felt more like a counselor and an older si
ster when dealing with Nydia and Jasmine. Perhaps it was because she and Hannah were in their fifties and had adult children that they shared a similar outlook on life. “Well, not for nothing, you have seven months to think about it,” she said after a comfortable silence.
“I don’t know whether I told you, but I have an interview on Tuesday for a position with an agency that prepares single women with children to transition from living in shelters into permanent housing.”
Tonya was slightly taken aback with Jasmine’s disclosure. “I thought you were going to go back into the interior decorating business.”
“I’d thought about it, but then I changed my mind, because it would mean starting over. Remember, I lost all my clients once I sold my business after the divorce.”
“Have you given any more thought to investing in the inn with me and Hannah?”
Jasmine’s eyebrows lifted slightly at the same time a smile trembled over her lips. “I’ve been giving it some thought, but . . .” Her words trailed off.
“But you don’t want to leave your folks,” she said, finishing her statement. Jasmine nodded. Tonya understood her friend’s reluctance to move more than a thousand miles away from her parents. She had become an empty nester and at the same time her parents moved to a Florida retirement community in Daytona Beach; however, she made it a practice several times a year to drive to Atlanta and pick up Samara to visit with her daughter’s grandparents.
“Thirteen hundred miles between New York and New Orleans is just too much in the event of an emergency,” Jasmine said.
“Have they talked about leaving New York?”
Jasmine paused. “I know Daddy was talking about moving back to North Carolina, but he says it’s just talk.”
“Perhaps he’ll change his mind one of these days,” Tonya predicted.
“Who’s going to change their mind?” Nydia asked as she walked into the parlor and flopped down on the loveseat next to Jasmine.
“My father,” Jasmine answered.
Tonya stared at Nydia’s puffy eyes. “It’s really not nice to say, but you look a hot mess.”
Nydia closed her eyes. “I know. I think I had too much champagne.”
“You think? How much did you have?” Jasmine asked.
Nydia’s lids fluttered. “I stopped counting after the fifth glass.”
“Damn!” Tonya said under her breath. “You’re an accountant, but it appears that you have a problem with adding.”
Nydia moaned softly. “Please don’t remind me of that.” She moaned again. “It feels as if someone is playing congas in my head.”
Jasmine placed the back of her hand to Nydia’s forehead. “You don’t have a temperature, so you’re probably hungover.”
“I’m never drinking champagne again,” she said, grimacing. “But I have to admit Hannah and St. John really know how to throw a party.”
Tonya nodded in agreement. Everything about Hannah and St. John’s wedding, cocktail hour, and reception was nothing short of perfection—all of which made her look forward to relocating with the excitement of a child opening presents on Christmas morning. Working in restaurants, or assisting the head chef at the bank, paled in comparison to opening her own establishment, and she looked forward to the challenge of taste-testing recipes that would eventually end up on the supper club’s menu, while hiring and training a kitchen staff and musicians to play live music on weekends would prove less challenging. After all, New Orleans was filled with musicians looking for work as a permanent house band.
Nydia pushed to her feet. “I’m going to get some coffee. Would anyone else like a cup?”
“Not me,” Tonya said.
“I’ll pass, too,” Jasmine added.
Once Nydia returned to the parlor, the three women talked at length about Hannah’s plan to turn her ancestral home into a business. Jasmine continued to voice her opposition to investing in the venture because she did not want to relocate, while Nydia continued to be ambivalent about leaving her boyfriend.
Hours later, Tonya stood on the porch watching the taxi as it drove away with her friends for their return flight to New York. She would follow them in two days, and once she put her affairs in order she would return to New Orleans—this time to begin the next phase of her life.
Chapter 5
Tonya climbed down off the stepladder and walked over to the bedside table to answer the telephone. She had spent most of the morning going through closets and selecting unused and outdated clothes and accessories she planned to donate to a neighborhood charity. She glanced at the display; the call was from her attorney’s office.
“Hello.”
“May I please speak to Ms. Martin?”
“This is she.”
“Ms. Martin, this is Ms. Stewart from Davis, Keen, and Harris. Mr. Keen has given his approval for your agreement with Mrs. McNair. You’ll get an email confirming this, along with the attached agreement. Do you have any questions?”
Tonya sat down on the side of her bed as her heart pounded a runaway rhythm. “No, I don’t.”
There came a pause from the other end of the connection. “Congratulations, Ms. Martin, on your new venture.”
“Thank you so much.”
She placed the receiver in the handset and fell back across the bed. It had taken her and Hannah several days to discuss the terms of the partnership agreement before she was willing to commit to invest in the DuPont Inn. Tonya wasn’t able to compete with Hannah when it came to the legalese; however, the business courses she had taken in college had given her an advantage as they revised the contract that would make her a part owner. Once approved by her attorney, Tonya would electronically transfer the agreed-upon amount from her bank to Hannah’s.
She picked up her cell phone and tapped the messages icon.
Tonya: It’s official. I’m now an innkeeper.
Within seconds, she got a reply from her daughter.
Samara: Congratulations! We’ll celebrate when we get together. Late for class. I’ll call you later
Every Thanksgiving she drove to Atlanta to pick up her daughter before traveling south to Florida, where they shared the holiday with her parents. Now that she was going to move to Louisiana, the drive would take hours instead of days.
Tonya slipped off the bed and made her way to the smaller bedroom her daughter had decorated like a studio apartment. An off-white sofa covered with Haitian cotton converted into a full-size bed, and a desktop computer and printer sat on a computer table. Bookcases packed with books and magazines spanned one wall, while another was decorated with framed movie posters and photos of Samara’s favorite movie and recording artists.
She sat down at the desk, booted up the computer, and then switched on the printer. As soon as she typed in her password to access the Internet, she saw the message from her attorney’s office. Tonya downloaded the cover letter and document, electronically signed and dated the agreement, and forwarded the signed document to Hannah for her signature before printing it.
When she had broached the subject of Nydia subletting the apartment, Tonya realized she had been somewhat premature, but now with the signed agreement she hoped her former co-worker would move in. Nydia had promised to come over later that afternoon to decide whether she wanted to sublet it for the following year. Rent for two bedrooms in the renovated East Harlem walk-up was high, but not as prohibitive when compared to other neighborhoods on the Upper West Side and East Side of Manhattan.
Tonya made two phone calls: one to her parents and the other to Darius. Her mother was overjoyed that they would be able to see each other more than two and occasionally three times a year. And instead of Tonya making the drive to Florida, the elder Martins planned to put New Orleans on their travel itinerary. After their retirement, her parents had sold their home in a New York City suburb, relocated to Daytona Beach, and moved into Ronald Martin’s ancestral home. However, the aging structure needed major repairs. He updated the three-bedroom house, sold it to a young
couple, and then moved into an upscale fifty-five-and-over gated retirement community with onsite amenities that included a nine-hole golf course, swimming pools, tennis courts, resident medical personnel, and an in-house chef.
The call to Darius went unanswered, and Tonya left a voice mail message for him to call her. It was time she let the man she had been seeing for more than a year know that she planned to relocate. She exhaled an audible sigh and felt as if she had been released from an invisible prison. The instant she was told that her position as an assistant chef at Wakefield Hamilton had been eliminated, her mind had gone into a tumult.
Although she was given a generous severance package, that still did not belay her anxiety about her future. And despite her experience, Tonya loathed having to update her résumé and contact former co-workers about available positions.
It was only after Hannah invited her, Nydia, and Jasmine to join her at her Manhattan high-rise apartment for an early brunch that a strange calmness came over Tonya, as she was reminded that she was a highly skilled chef and her life was totally unencumbered. She had mailed off a check for Samara’s last year at Spelman College, she was debt-free, and the money she received in the severance package was enough for her to maintain her current lifestyle for more than a year.
Hannah inviting her, Jasmine, and Nydia to her apartment changed everything: her association with the other women, and now her future. Once Tonya had revealed she planned to take the summer off before looking for another position, Hannah invited her to come to New Orleans, and after some urging Nydia and Jasmine agreed to accompany Tonya and her daughter. It was during her first visit to New Orleans that Hannah asked her about investing in her business venture of converting DuPont House to DuPont Inn. She made Tonya an offer she found hard to refuse. If she invested in the inn, then she would maintain a twenty-five percent ownership in the business, along with operating an onsite café exclusively for inn guests and a supper club for the general public.
Hannah talked about a tentative opening date of next February, but her decision to install an elevator in the two-story house pushed back the opening until late summer or early fall. Tonya did not mind the delay, because it would give her more than enough time to acquaint herself with the local cuisine and interview, hire, and train her kitchen and waitstaff.
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