by Adan Ramie
Contents
Dished
Copyright
Authors Note
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
Keep Reading
Other Books By
About
Dished
Adan Ramie
Dished by Adan Ramie
www.AdanRamie.com
Copyright © 2018 Adan Ramie
All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission from the author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
A Note from the Author
To say Adonia, Leah, or any of the other characters from Dished will return in another story would be putting the cart before the horse, but I hope that, should you want to read more, you will be able to move on from Dished to another of my romances, like Set-up or Rescued.
For early discounts, free stories, and exclusive giveaways, you can join my Constant Readers group.
And if you enjoy Dished and feel so inclined, it would be a great help to me if you posted your opinion in a review.
Thanks for giving my book a shot. Bon appetit!
1
1998
Patience.
The girl's eyes, trained on the covered pot, flicked occasionally to the metal sheet on which almonds, toasted to a golden crunch, sat cooling. The fragrance of dill wafted into her nostrils and she breathed in deeply. The old woman next to her sat upright, her posture perfect despite her advanced age, her eyes sweeping over the worn pages of the heavy Bible in her lap.
"Yaya, is it ready?" the girl whispered.
Her grandmother reached one hand out and pushed in the girl's lower back, never moving her eyes. The girl straightened and shut her mouth.
"Adonia, it will be ready when it is ready. You must have patience." She turned her eyes to stare at the girl's face, suppressing a smile. "You are just like your mother at your age. Only five years old and wound up to spring."
Adonia's back bowed again and she twisted her lips up in a pout. She gulped back the tears she knew wouldn't do any good and steadied her voice. "Will she come back?" she asked. Her voice cracked.
The old woman sighed. "Kalo mou." She wrapped her sandpapery hands around the girl's cheeks and brought her in close to her face. "You don't worry about what your mother does. You worry about learning to be a better woman than she." She planted a kiss on Adonia's forehead, then pushed her back into her chair.
Standing, Yaya ambled over to the counter, where she poured dill seeds from a pan into a little black mortar. She shoved the mortar and pestle into Adonia's hands, then climbed back onto her stool. Adjusting herself, her right hand turned one page of the Bible. With her left, she pushed the girl's back. "Patience brings wisdom."
2018
Adonia Zabat tapped her knife against the cutting board, then pushed the little pile of minced dill into the electric mixer and handed the board to the woman beside her. She moved straight to spooning half a cup of sour cream into the mixer, then horseradish. She squeezed a lemon, tossing the peels and seeds into the trash, and finally looked up when she felt eyes on her. Her cooking partner's eyes widened in surprise, then she blushed and turned back to her vegetables.
"Can I help you with something?"
She had more skills than most of the other new recruits, and she wasn't hesitant to share them. Whether they took her up on the offer of help was their choice. The competition was fierce on the Betheny Clement Bitez tour, but if any of them made it through, they could have their choice of jobs for other musicians and artists alike. It was the chance of a lifetime, and some people couldn't handle the pressure. Adonia hoped her partner wasn't one of the ones who would crack fast.
The woman beside her shook her head at the offer and furiously sliced red bell peppers. Adonia turned back to her mixer, grinding sea salt and fresh cracked pepper over it all, and rolled her eyes at the woman's pride. She put the top on and turned the mixer on to blend all the ingredients, rubbed the back of her hand over the sweat beading on her forehead under her short-cropped hair, then looked sideways at the woman she had been assigned to work with for the duration of the Bitez tour.
Her partner's skin under the blush was the color of apricot butter, and her hair, swept up at the back of her head in a knot, reminded Adonia of dark, rich espresso. She might have been a few years Adonia's junior, but she couldn't say for sure, because despite her blushing and stuttering, there was wisdom in her eyes that spoke volumes. Adonia's own eyes traced the gentle sway of her partner's lower back until her cell phone chirped and snapped her out of her inspection. She wiped her hands on her apron, then pulled the phone out of her pocket and looked at its face. When she swore, the woman next to her looked up at her expectantly.
"We have twenty minutes to get the salmon spread and crudité over to the venue. Ms. Clement cut her performance short due to a wardrobe malfunction." She bit the inside of her bottom lip to stop the laughter that danced up from her belly. She cleared her throat, furrowed her brow, and continued reading. "If we're not there in time, we can consider ourselves unemployed, and make our way back home to 'wallow in our own obscurity'. O'Brien's words."
Her partner groaned. "I hate celebrities."
Adonia snorted in agreement, then turned to her partner and touched her arm. The woman met her gaze, and Adonia saw the moisture on the rims of her dark eyes. She knew the look. She was new to the game, and while she had skills, this was probably a more competitive situation than she was used to. If Adonia didn't watch herself, she would be smitten with the ingenue.
"Don't worry," she said softly. "We've got this. Let me get this in a bowl, and I'll help you finish plating the veggies."
They made quick work of slicing and plating the rest of the vegetable spread, and Adonia ringed the colorful crudité with rounds of crusty bread. They wrapped the whole platter with plastic, changed from aprons to presentation gear, and hurried to the company car left for them to take.
"I hope we make it in time," the woman said, snapping her seat belt.
Adonia grinned and revved the engine, the white scars on her fingers gleaming from the stick shift. "I hope Dame O'Bitch is okay with speeding tickets."
Her partner gasped, then grinned. "You're going to be a terrible influence, aren't you?"
Adonia pulled out of the parking lot and onto the street, then accelerated to double the speed limit in a few seconds. She grinned over at the woman opposite her as her booted foot pressed down on the pedal. "I have been known to be." She let go with one hand and held it out to her passenger to shake. "I'm Adonia, by the way."
"That's pretty. Is it French?"
Adonia shook her head, her eyes back on the road that swam past them like muted watercolors dripped over a dark canvas. "Greek." She signaled, then got onto the highway via ramp. A car horn blared, and she switched driving hands to stick her left out the window and give the other driver the finger.
The woman beside her rolled with laughter. "Oh my God, you're a terrible driver, Adonia."
"I'll get us there in one piece," Adonia said, then glanced over. "And you are?"
"Hialeah. But you
can call me Leah; everyone does."
Adonia tilted her head. "I've never heard a name like that. Why wouldn't you use it?"
Leah sneered. "Grade school. Imagine growing up in the Midwest, looking like me, with a name like Hialeah. They all called me Hiawatha. It was awful."
Adonia wrinkled her nose as if she smelled something bad. "I can see where the nickname came in handy."
Leah pointed at an exit just in time for Adonia to swoop out to it, cutting off another driver. The horn blared, and Adonia answered it with another bird. They made their way in record time to the venue, where a tall, silver-haired crone stood in the parking lot, glowering.
"Where have you been?" the old woman squawked as Adonia and Leah exited the car. "Ms. Clement is waiting for all her hors d'oeuvres so that she can start her after party."
Adonia held up the tray and gave her an insincere smile. Leah patted her partner on the arm, and whispered, "Get those in there." Leah turned to the thin-shouldered old woman and gave her a saccharine smile, and Adonia heard her speak as she walked away. "Dame O'Brien, we are so sorry it took us so long to get here. Traffic was a nightmare."
Adonia grinned and walked inside. The event room was already packed, but servers were milling through with flutes of expensive champagne to keep the guests' hands and mouths busy while the catering crew handled finishing touches on the buffet-style food tables before the ropes were removed to allow the guests in. She swooped in, chose a place that would fit her trays of hors d'ouvres, and was out of the way just in time for the ropes to come down.
2
The after party lasted three hours. By the end, their whole crew was sweaty and weak. Adonia, even with her strong back and thick muscles, was wilting like a cut flower days in a vase, but willowy Leah stood strong. Adonia watched her, the stiff, straight back, her chin held high, calmly surveying the scene.
While the other girls from their crew had mostly retired to the kitchen to lazily prop themselves on counter tops and chairs, gabbing about men like teenage cheerleaders, Leah manned the refreshments table. She replenished the wine for the fourth time, her hands moving in quick and precise jerks like the darting tongue of a snake, and was pouring scotch and soda for another leering backup dancer when Betheny Clement approached them.
Leah handed off the drink, then turned to her and smiled. "Is there something I can help you with, Ms. Clement? A drink?"
The bottle-blonde pop rocker who could decide their fates yawned and leaned on the table. Adonia watched as it threatened to collapse then decided it could hold her weight and settled. Ms. Clement inspected Leah from her smile to her shiny black shoes with eyes as shrewd as a raven's. "Are you new to the tour?"
"A few of us were hired from another crew especially to come on tour with you. I've been working for Dame O'Brien on another crew for four months now."
Betheny's head bobbed slowly on her neck. "What did you make for me tonight?"
"I helped with the smoked salmon and crudité." Her smile tightened; Adonia worried along with her where this was going.
Betheny picked up a piece of crusty bread and mashed some of the salmon spread over the surface. She looked at Leah as she took a bite. Adonia watched as she chewed deliberately, inspected the dip, and then looked back to Leah. "This is good. Fresh. Mouth watering." Her voice dropped at the end into a husky growl that made Adonia blush.
Leah nodded, and if she noticed that their hostess was hitting on her, she didn't let on. "Thank you, Ms. Clement. That's very thoughtful of you to say."
Betheny shook her head. "Call me Betheny." She held out a hand.
Leah smiled and shook the hand of the brightly painted young woman. "It's so nice to finally meet you, Betheny. Your reputation precedes you."
Betheny grinned. "Oh, the pleasure is all mine, I think," the international music sensation and well-known terror answered with a mischievous grin. "I hope you've heard good things."
"You're very well-known," Leah dodged.
Betheny's smile widened. "Will you be with us for the whole tour, or only one of the legs?"
Leah inclined her head in something between a nod and a bow. Betheny bobbed her head in a rhythm, her eyes unfocused and traveling through the room. They lit on someone, and her face broke in a snarl. Leah's eyes popped open at the expression, her muscles obviously tightening for a fight. Adonia straightened in case Leah needed her.
"That whore wasn't invited," Betheny hissed, then turned back to Leah. Her face changed back, at least partially, as she tried to smile through her fury. "I have something to handle on the other side of the room. It was nice meeting you, Leah. I hope I'll see you again soon."
As Adonia and Leah watched Betheny stalk away, Leah sidled closer to Adonia. Their eyes met for a brief moment, then turned back to the room, both of them stifling giggles.
"Holy shit," Adonia whispered. "I thought she was going to kill you."
"I know! I feel so bad for the girl she went after." Leah grimaced.
Adonia shrugged, then rolled some of the tension out of her shoulders. The quick shot of adrenaline would do wonders for keeping her awake as the party dwindled, but it would leave her feeling worse than ever by the time it wore off. "Well, by reputation, everyone knows she's a little psycho. That girl put herself in a bad position even showing up tonight if she knew she wasn't supposed to be here."
Leah nodded, and they both watched as the musician approached a woman near the front door. The unwelcome guest's smile fell off as if it were erased, and was replaced with a look of horror and regret. She stepped back a few paces, and Betheny followed. Adonia leaned closer to Leah to watch the fight and caught a whiff of perfume. Something clenched tight inside her, and her eyes rolled back as she breathed in the scent of freshly baked bread and something sweetly floral.
"Do you think they had an affair?" Leah asked, breaking Adonia's concentration. Adonia turned to her, olive eyes widened with surprise. "What?" Leah asked. "It's pretty well known that Betheny Clement is bisexual."
Adonia shrugged, then turned to arrange the last of the third flavor of hors d'oeuvres, trying to hide her blush. Only the most lopsided, smeared, and dried out of the sushi bites remained, but Adonia shoved them together in as appealing a shape as possible.
"What's wrong? Do you have a problem with bisexual people?"
Adonia chuckled under her breath. "No, I don't have a problem with bisexual people. I just prefer not to discuss sexual preference at work. I find I get in less trouble if the topic never comes up, so when it does, I tend to get myself out of it as quickly as I can."
Leah moved in beside her and re-stacked a group of napkins. Their arms touched, and she nudged Adonia with one elbow. When Adonia looked up, Leah smiled. "You don't have to be worried with me. I understand what it's like to be different."
Adonia scanned the table, found nothing else for her to do, then made her way toward the kitchen door. Leah followed on her heels, a concerned look on her face.
"Did I make you angry?"
Adonia shook her head. "No, I just don't think work is the place to talk about it." She heard the cackling giggles from the kitchen and groaned, stopping outside the door and squatting down to rest on the floor. Leah followed, searching Adonia's face for answers, but Adonia kept her face impassive. "I don't know how you can understand."
A smile curved Leah's lips. As Adonia watched, her tongue flicked out over them. "I understand because I know what it's like to feel judged."
Adonia opened her mouth to reply, but the surprise in Leah's eyes sent her own gaze over her head at the woman standing behind her. She popped up into a standing position and turned around to face their boss.
"Dame O'Brien," she started, but the woman raised one finger, the nail sharpened to a point, and jabbed it in the air in front of Adonia's face. Her fake smile fell off as fast as it slipped on.
"My employees do not sit down in front of the guests," the crone said, stabbing the air with each wo
rd, her voice a crackle that bubbled up from deep within her belly. "It is highly unprofessional. When you are present at a Dame O'Brien event, you represent not only yourself, but this company, and by default, me."
"I'm sorry, Dame. It won't happen again."
Dame O'Brien squinted her eyes, inspecting Adonia's stony face, then sucked in a breath and let it out with a whoosh. "You're right, it won't. The next time, you will be packing your bags and finding transportation back to whatever hole you crawled out of, you ungrateful child."
Adonia bowed her head in agreement. Leah looked on, her posture straight as a young sapling reaching for the sun. Dame O'Brien sniffed at her, then turned around and stalked back into the kitchen.
Leah let out her breath and a nervous laugh. Adonia rolled her eyes.
"You got lucky she didn't fire you on the spot," Leah said. "I heard the girl I replaced was fired for checking her nails too often."
Adonia waggled her fingers. "Well, I can't speak for you, but I have no nails to speak of."
Leah snorted, then leaned in conspiratorially. "You know what you call a lesbian with long fingernails?"
Adonia made a face, but took the bait. "What?"
"Single."
Adonia chuckled and rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I've never heard that one before."
Leah shrugged. "Still made you laugh, and confirmed what I suspected. You're like me."
"I highly doubt I'm anything like you," Adonia answered with a frown, and she meant it.
From what she had learned about Leah over the past hours, the girl swung precariously between a nervous wreck and steely-spine determination. Adonia was more of a single emotional track kind of girl. Where Leah was ready to make friends, Adonia had joined to do a job. And while she knew she would enjoy getting closer to her, she doubted discussing her sex life with Leah would prove to be anything but a futile waste of time. She sighed, turned to the table, and started arranging the leftover appetizers again, trying to ignore the hurt look on Leah's face.