“Well, you’ve said your piece, so why are you here, Dante?”
“Why am I here? Hmm, let me see,” Dante replied sarcastically. “I thought I’d come by and thank my benefactor for the wonderful review by bringing a sample of some of the new items on my menu.” He nodded to the picnic basket. “But then again I had no idea who Riley Ward truly was.”
“And now that you do?”
“I’m sorry I came,” Dante responded. “I should have left well enough alone because I don’t know the woman standing before me.” Dante strode to the exit, but then stopped at the doorway. “But I guess I never did. Enjoy the food.”
Seconds later, he was gone. Adrianna’s shoulders sagged and she plopped down in her leather ergonomic chair. She had expected anger, but the unmistakable look of disgust and disappointment in Dante’s eyes destroyed her equilibrium.
Her mind flashed back to ten years ago, when she’d discovered she was pregnant. She’d been so scared that the only person she’d confided in was Madison. Who would have known that her father’s aide was having her followed and had relayed that she’d gone to a Planned Parenthood clinic? Apparently, her father had been concerned about negative publicity in light of his reelection as governor and had her followed. She’d been furious when he’d confronted her about her reasons for going there and had adamantly refused to tell him why. But Howard Wright was not to be trifled with, and in front of her mother, Vanessa, he’d demanded the truth. She’d had no choice but to reveal she was six weeks pregnant.
Her mother had been understanding. She’d made a mistake because she was young and in love. Her father, on the other hand, hadn’t been so tolerant. He’d berated her irresponsibility for getting pregnant and how it could ruin her life, but the real truth was he was more concerned with how it would ruin his chances of reelection. Being a Republican and having a pregnant, unmarried daughter was career suicide at the time.
“I love Dante,” Adrianna had said, “and we’ll make this work.”
“How?” Howard Wright had asked. “That young man is just beginning his culinary career and you want to saddle him with a wife and child.”
And marry they would have because Dante wouldn’t have settled for anything less, but her father’s words had given her pause. Perhaps he was right. Was Dante ready to be a father?
“Marry Phillip Wright. He’ll be a good husband and father and give your child a stable home.”
“No.” Adrianna had shaken her head. “I don’t love Phillip. You know I love Dante. Why won’t you listen to me?” He’d tried to throw his protégé Phillip Wright at her the year before, but Adrianna had resisted. She didn’t want to be a politician’s wife. She’d seen her mother and despite the love between her parents, she’d known it had made their lives difficult, constantly being under public scrutiny.
“Do what’s right,” her father had said. “Don’t be selfish. Think about what’s best for your child.”
Adrianna had turned to her mother for comfort, but she was sobbing into her handkerchief.
“I am doing what’s right. Dante has a right to know he’s going to be a father and I’m going to tell him.” Adrianna had headed toward the door and that’s when her father had delivered the ultimate blow.
“If you tell Dante and marry him, I’m cutting you off,” he’d said. “You will be penniless, without a dime to your name.”
“You would do that? You would disinherit me?” The money and family business wasn’t even his, it was her mother’s. Without it, he would never have gotten elected.
“Mom, are you going to let him do this?” She looked to her mother for assistance, but instead she’d bowed down to her father’s will.
“If that’s what it takes.” Her father’s voice had been resolute when he’d spoken. “Listen, girl, I am protecting you and this entire family.”
Ten years ago, she’d been weak and spineless and caved in to her father’s demands. “Fine. I will do it,” she’d said, “but know this. I love Dante and nothing you say or do is ever going to change that.” Now look at her. She was a divorced thirty-one-year-old.
What had she done? Why hadn’t she had the courage to stand up to her father and fight for the man she loved and the life they deserved? So what if her father had cut off her trust fund. At least they would have had each other. Perhaps their child would have made it. Had she lost the baby as punishment for her lies and sin? Adrianna wondered. If Dante ever found out that she’d been pregnant and lost their child, he would never forgive her. The moment she’d decided to keep the truth from him, their happily ever after was gone forever.
Adrianna Wright was back in Manhattan and as strikingly beautiful as the last time he’d seen her, perhaps more so.
How could this be? Dante wondered as he walked out of Foodies magazine headquarters in a daze. How could the one woman he’d ever loved, the woman he’d never truly gotten over, suddenly bounce back into his life as if she’d never left?
He didn’t find the answer as his driver took him to the Harlem Community Center where Malik was sure to be working late.
Dante leaned back and rested his head against the leather cushion. He closed his eyes in an attempt to relax. Malik lived and breathed the community center which is why the Children’s Aid Network had put him in charge of several centers throughout Manhattan. Due to both restaurants’ success, Dante had foregone the headache of driving in favor of having a chauffeur.
The drive to HCC from midtown Manhattan was nearly an hour long due to traffic and gave Dante too much time to think about Adrianna and how beautiful she looked. Time had been good to her. She wasn’t as slim as she’d been as a young girl. Instead, her shape had become more womanly, and had filled out with full breasts and delicious curves. Curves that Dante would love to run his hand down.
Damn her! He shouldn’t even be having these thoughts after the shabby way she’d treated him ten years ago, but then again his libido had always been in overdrive around her. Quentin and Malik had thought she’d been too young for him back then as he was five years her senior, but he couldn’t resist her charms. And now she was back. What was he supposed to do? How was he supposed to feel?
She’d devastated him ten years ago by walking away from him. He’d never understood or figured out how or why the woman he’d adored could abandon him so easily for another man. Or that an affair could have been going on under his nose the entire time. It was certainly how her father had presented the facts. She was a young girl sowing her wild oats before marrying someone more appropriate. Dante had felt duped by the wealthy socialite. He’d felt like a fool. He’d tried to have long-term relationships after Adrianna, but the truth of the matter was she’d broken him for any other woman.
Her leaving and subsequent refusal to give him any type of closure had tapped into the abandonment issues he’d faced by having his own mother leave him when he was just a toddler. And even now, he still didn’t understand. She’d offered him no real reasons for why she’d done what she’d done. Only that she was sorry. What good did that do him?
The jolt of the car stopping brought Dante back to reality and he stepped out into the cool spring air. He walked past the reception area renovated nearly two years ago and headed straight to Malik’s office.
He waved at Malik’s assistant and right hand, Theresa, before walking into his office. Malik had an open door policy and Dante doubted he would mind.
“What’s up?” Malik asked when Dante unceremoniously walked into his office and collapsed into the chair opposite him.
“You will not believe who rose from the ashes,” Dante replied.
Malik knew such things were possible as his own stepfather had emerged after twenty-five years, but thankfully he’d had Peyton to help him deal with it. “I’ve no idea. Who is it?”
“None other than my duplicitous ex-girlfriend, Adrianna Wright!”
“You’re kidding, right?” Malik sat straight up in his chair. “Where has she been all these years?”
Dante shrugged. “Who knows? And who cares? The problem is she is here now and has been writing under the pseudonym Riley Ward.”
“Adrianna gave you the glowing review?”
“Yep.”
“Wow!” Malik paused and rubbed his perpetual five o’clock shadow. “Why now? Why come back?”
“Apparently, her father is dying of cancer, so she’s come back to New York to take care of him.”
“And figured she’d toss you a bone?”
“Something like that.”
“Did she have anything to say for herself after all this time?”
“Like what!” Dante jumped out of the chair, knocking it to the floor. “What could she possibly say, Malik, that would matter now? Apologize? Hell, that won’t make up for her leaving me for another man. It’s not like she can take it all back.”
“No, she can’t.” Malik walked over from his desk and picked up the chair. “It’s just hard to believe she’s back after all these years and is the mysterious reviewer that sang your praises.”
“You’re telling me,” Dante replied, folding his arms across his chest and leaning against the wall. “I hate owing her anything.”
“You owe her nothing,” Malik stated, looking Dante dead in the eye. “If anything, she owes you for the horrible way she treated you. Because of her you swore off women.”
“I haven’t sworn off women.”
“No? I disagree. You haven’t had a serious relationship since Adrianna.”
“That’s not true…” Dante started, but then paused when he realized Malik was right. He hadn’t had a committed relationship in the past ten years, at least not one that lasted longer than a few months. “Okay, I guess you’re right.”
“I know I am. That chick did a number on you and you never recovered.”
“Well, what do I do now?” Despite how angry with her he was, he still felt vulnerable to Adrianna’s charms. The almost kiss in her office proved that.
“Don’t let her do it to you a second time,” Malik advised.
Dante laughed to himself. That was easier said than done.
Chapter 3
Dante was excited as he sat in the reception area on the tenth floor of Lawrence Enterprises late Wednesday morning. He’d arrived for the meeting Ian had set up with his head of development for a new food show on his network, WTTG. Despite the whirl of emotions going through his mind about Adrianna resurfacing in Manhattan after ten years, he was eager to get started on the next phase of his career. He’d seen what having one’s own food show could do for a chef’s career. Look at the Emerils, Rachael Rays, Bobby Flays and Paula Deens of the world. They’d started out on television, but were now a brand from talk shows to cookbooks to kitchen products. They were raking in the endorsements.
A few moments later, Ian walked toward him with a tall, blond gentleman in a silver designer suit. “Dante, I’d like you to meet Todd Allen. He’s the President of Programming and Production here at WTTG.”
“Pleasure to meet you.” Todd extended his hand and Dante gave it a hearty shake. “I’ve heard nothing but great things about your food and talent in the kitchen. Let’s see if we can turn that into magic on screen.”
“Sounds good to me,” Dante said. Todd looked like an affable person so hopefully the interview would be a breeze.
“I will leave you both to talk,” Ian replied, “as I have another engagement. I look forward to hearing what you both come up with.”
“Follow me.” Todd led Dante into a nearby conference room and closed the door. “So, Dante, what is your culinary point of view?”
“Well, my culinary point of view is New American cuisine with soul food and Spanish flairs.”
“Have you given any thought to what point of view you would bring to the television show?”
“Actually, I have,” Dante returned. “Ian may have told you but I’ve broadened my horizons to include catering and I handle our family dinners every Sunday. So I think some type of entertaining show would be in order. I don’t know my exact ethnic background, but I’ve always been drawn to those flavors.”
“You would certainly have a unique show—New American/soul food cooking with a Latin twist.” Todd rubbed his jaw. “So have you ever been inside a television kitchen studio?”
“I’ve been inside many kitchens.”
“Oh, but a television kitchen is much different.” Todd rose from his chair and walked toward the door. “Follow me.”
Dante was curious as he followed Todd through a series of hallways until finally pushing open two double doors and stepping into an enormous television studio complete with a mock kitchen.
“Wow! Lawrence Enterprises certainly didn’t waste any time setting up a kitchen,” Dante commented. “A few minutes ago, Ian led me to believe this was something he’d come up with off the cuff.”
“We’ve been tossing the idea back and forth for a while now, but as soon as Ian says he wants something, we make it happen.”
Dante’s smile widened in approval. Why wasn’t he surprised? A multimillionaire need only snap his fingers and people would jump. He stepped over the plethora of cords and walked around the cameras to the kitchen counter. He paused for a moment to look around. He could definitely see himself in front of the camera.
“If you don’t mind, I’d like to take some test footage of you,” Todd said.
“Right now?”
“No better time than the present to see if you have what it takes.”
Before Dante knew what was happening, technicians were rushing inside the room and setting up while a makeup artist came over to pat his face with some foundation and powder. Dante frowned.
“Don’t worry. Real men do wear makeup and you’ll need it for the camera,” Todd replied.
The rest of the taping went so fast, Dante would have sworn he dreamed it. There was a script for cooking one of his famous recipes from Dante’s. How had Ian gotten his hands on that? A certain petite lawyer came to mind. Trust Sage to stick her nose where it didn’t belong.
There were so many things to learn from blocking and knowing exactly where he needed to be, to which camera he had to look at. Camera one would film him while camera two would focus on what he was cooking on the gas stove. And of course, there was the teleprompter. Dante thought he would have trouble following the script on the teleprompter, while cooking and communicating with the viewers about what he was creating as he gave cooking tips and shared tidbits of his life. A lot was required of him, but Dante thrived on another challenge in his burgeoning career.
After he’d finished taping, Todd commented on what a great job he’d done, so Dante was feeling pretty sure of himself until he headed out of the studio past reception and a familiar face caught his eye. Surely, it couldn’t be her again! But just as his heart had beaten a hundred times a minute in her office the other day, it did again now. Except this time, he thought it would leap out of his chest.
Before he could speak, Adrianna must have sensed his presence and glanced up. “Dante? What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same question,” he returned, purposely not answering her. Instead, his eyes were scanning every feature on her face, from her expressive brown eyes to her ruby-red lipstick. She was definitely out to impress if the tailored red suit jacket and short skirt were any indication. If she’d dressed to show she was in control, she'd done it, as the vibrant red color suited her coloring perfectly.
Adrianna sighed. She was in no mood for a confrontation with Dante, especially not before her big meeting which would decide whether she remained a reviewer or branched back out into cooking. “Do we have to do this again?” She needed to stay focused and positive. She hadn’t cooked professionally in years and needed to convince the folks at Lawrence Enterprises that despite her background she had something truly special to offer if given her own show. It was a long shot, she knew, but she had to give it a try.
“Are you trying to ingratiate yourself into ever
y aspect of my life?” Dante queried. “How else can you explain why you’re here?”
“For your information, I’m here looking into a position as the host of LE’s newest cooking show.”
“Excuse me?” Ian hadn’t told him that he was considering any other potential hosts. He’d thought he was a shoo-in, but apparently not.
“Yes, a friend of mine put in a good word for me with the higher-ups so I think I have a good shot at the job.”
Dante’s face split into a grin. “Oh, you think so?” Adrianna clearly hadn’t lost her confidence. It reminded him of when she’d told him she was the better chef all those years ago.
“Well, yes, of course,” Adrianna responded, a little perturbed at his attitude. “I know great food and although I may be a reviewer I haven’t lost my zest for cooking. And I’m sure I can portray that to viewers.”
“Good luck.” Dante chuckled.
“Do you really mean that or are you just being facetious?”
“I meant may the best man or woman win,” Dante added.
Adrianna’s brow crinkled into a frown. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means that I am also up for the host position. You know, a chef with real experience cooking in a kitchen day in and day out as opposed to a novice such as yourself.”
“A novice? I am no such thing. I went to culinary school like you and trained at Le Cordon Bleu.”
Dante chuckled again. “When? In between dinner parties? Isn’t that what socialites like yourself do when they’re bored?”
“You arrogant son of a—” Adrianna was about to say something brash, but the receptionist had looked up, interested in their intense conversation. So Adrianna stepped farther away, out of her earshot.
“If I recall correctly, you did write that I was the best new chef in New York, right?”
Two to Tango (Harlequin Kimani Romance) Page 3