by Dena Blake
She stripped off her clothes and climbed into bed, thinking about their conversations during the evening. It had been clear from the moment they entered the house there was something between them. Mel seemed to have more than a passing interest in her, or was that just wishful thinking? She’d caught Mel watching her more than once—starting the barbecue, cooking the steaks, during dinner. And then that embrace at the end of the night. No, it was definitely there. She’d have to watch how much wine she gave her in the future. Considering the sparks flying between them all evening, taking her home had been the right decision. Asking her to stay would have been begging for trouble.
Izzy had noticed Mel the first time she came in the restaurant, tall and slender, with dark amber locks that bounced upon her shoulders as she moved. Mel carried herself like a woman with confidence. That made Izzy tingle. Crushing on a married straight woman wasn’t practical, so she’d done her best to keep her distance. She’d managed to do just that the first few times they came in, but then one night Mel’s husband had requested an appearance from the chef. She’d tried to send Tony out, but he wouldn’t go since Izzy was the one who usually prepared their meals. She couldn’t just ignore them; she had to go. It would be rude not to respond to the request. She remembered being really nervous at first, but they were both so warm and pleasant, her anxiety quickly passed.
They’d had a short exchange, which entailed compliments on a wonderful meal from Mel and her husband, as well as an offer from Izzy to prepare them the specialty of their choice the next time they dined at the restaurant. All she needed was a day’s notice, and she would prepare them anything they wanted on or off the menu. They had taken her up on the offer, requesting a traditional formal Italian dinner with all the courses, known as a cena in Italy. The menu at Bella’s listed a few family-style dishes, but nothing that compared to a traditional Italian cena. Izzy knew the basics from the many family gatherings of her childhood but had to consult her mother on some of the not-so-well-known traditions to assure it was authentic.
Izzy remembered the night well because it didn’t go as smoothly as planned. Mel’s husband had invited another couple along. Mel had apologized profusely, but Izzy had assured her there would be plenty of food. Somewhere between the second piatto and the dolce, Izzy knew she was in trouble—not with the dinner, but with one of her guests. Along with being gorgeous, Mel Thomas had a wicked sense of humor. From overhearing their dinner conversation, Izzy could see Mel knew exactly when to give a jibe or a one-liner as well as a compliment. She was definitely the kind of woman Izzy could fall for.
It had been a long and expensive evening, but she had promised them anything they wanted, so that’s what they got. While her husband, as usual, hadn’t touched his wallet, Mel tried repeatedly to give Izzy her credit card, which Izzy refused each time. Later that night after their party had left, Izzy found four one-hundred-dollar bills in one of her pockets. Mel must have slipped in somehow while she was serving. After that night, Mel had made several weekly recurring appearances at the restaurant, with and without her husband.
Chapter Nine
“Hey there, early bird,” Nancy said as she came through the suite doorway. “What’s gotten into you? You’re never here before nine.” She hung her jacket on the hall tree and headed to the break room. Stopping briefly, she turned back to Mel. “Do you want some fresh coffee?”
“No, thanks. I’ve already had more than enough this morning. A bottle of water would be nice, though.” Mel had taken a cab to pick up her car from Izzy’s before six. She didn’t want to risk waking her and had felt bad about Izzy having to drive her home last night. She’d pick up her other set of keys later and grab dinner to go. She was sure Izzy was sick of her and her problems by now.
Nancy dropped off the bottle of water, then strolled back to her desk and logged on to her computer. “You want to grab some lunch today?”
“I can’t. I’m really behind.”
“How about dinner then? Maybe at your favorite restaurant?” She lifted a brow, waiting for Mel to answer.
“I was just going to grab something to go.”
“Come on, Mel. You have to take a break sometime.”
She did have to pick up her keys. Taking Nancy along might preempt any awkwardness she and Izzy might share because of her emotional meltdown last night. She’d have to make sure to keep that little tidbit of information from Nancy.
“Okay, sure, but I probably won’t be done here until after eight or so.”
“We’ll see about that.” She took the few steps over to Mel’s desk. “How about I take a few of these things off your hands?” She gathered up a few file folders.
“But I…”
“Don’t worry. I’ll let you check it all when I’m done.”
“Wait, Nancy. Sit down for a minute.”
“Uh-oh, what’d I do?”
“You didn’t do anything. In fact you do just about everything to keep these projects on track.”
“I do what I can.”
“I’ve been thinking about making some changes around here. With us considering bringing in some interns, I’m going to need help. How would you like to come in as my partner?”
“I’d love it.” Nancy gave her a broad smile.
“Being a partner has some pros and cons.” Mel pushed back in her chair and crossed her legs. “You’d get a pretty good raise right now because we’re doing well. But if business went down, you’d have to shoulder some of the financial responsibility.”
“Where do I sign?”
“That’s what I hoped you say.” She walked around her desk and gave Nancy a hug. “I’ll have the papers drawn up.”
“Are you going to have your father do it?”
“No. My brother. My father will try to talk me out of it.” Besides, I’m not in the mood to be reminded of how inferior I am today. She remembered their last dinner conversation well—his stilted presence, his harsh voice. They’d loomed in her thoughts constantly over the past few days.
“When you take on a partner, you give up control. What about work equity? You’re working all the time. Is she? Vision, does she share your vision for the company?”
“You mean your vision, don’t you?”
“I did help you get started.”
“As I recall, when I asked you for help, you sent me packing.”
“And you were more successful because of it.” He glanced up from his plate at her.
Teetering between anxiety and anger, she bit her tongue and shot her mother a please-help-me look.
“Richard, do we have to do this at dinner?” Cecilia said, her voice low and firm.
“These are important details she hasn’t thought about, Cecilia.” He set down his fork, picked up his glass of wine, and took a drink.
“Of course I’ve thought about the details. I have a written business plan.”
“What about the most important factor? You’ll have to split the profits.” His voice rose, laced with skepticism.
It always came down to money with her father. She wished he trusted her judgment as much as he did her brother’s. She was older and more successful, but that didn’t seem to make a difference in her father’s eyes. Emotions swirling in her head, she’d excused herself from the table and left the house without another word.
“Well, I certainly don’t want your father to try to talk you out of your decision.” Nancy’s voice emerged through her thoughts, and she felt her lightly touch her shoulder. “Mel, are you all right?”
She reached up and patted her hand. “Yeah. I’m fine. I’ll call Mike and we’ll get it all set up.”
*
Izzy rolled out of bed and went to the bathroom. She ran her fingers through her hair to get it out of her face. She scrutinized the reflection in the mirror and smiled; she was going to see Mel this morning. What a great way to start her day. After brushing her teeth, she flipped on the stereo and danced into the kitchen. She filled the electric hot-water kettle b
efore dipping two scoops of coffee into her French-press decanter. When the water was ready, she filled the decanter to the top metal band and let the coffee steep for a few minutes before pushing the press to the bottom. Her brother kept trying to get her to buy one of those fancy single-serve coffeemakers, but she was happy with this old-fashioned French press she’d bought years ago. She reached up into the cabinet for her favorite coffee mug and poured herself a cup. She’d need more than one cup today after that late night with Mel. She smiled again and headed back into the bathroom.
She took a shower and got dressed before grabbing Mel’s keys and heading out the front door. “Oh, shit!” She stopped, panic streaking through her. The car was gone. She swung around to go back inside. Then she saw the note taped to the pane of her front door.
Izzy,
Thanks for dinner. It was wonderful. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it. Sorry you had to drive me home last night. I usually don’t drink that much. You can just leave the house keys at the hostess stand of the restaurant, and I’ll pick them up later today.
Thanks again!
Mel
“Nope.” Izzy tossed the note on the counter as she headed out to her Jeep. If Mel Thomas wanted her keys back, she was going to have to get them directly from her.
Izzy didn’t spend much time with her mother this morning; she wanted to get to the restaurant to make sure she was there when Mel showed up. Her mother told her about her lunch with her friend Mary Elizabeth. Still trying to set something up between them, she practically talked the whole time about her being such a nice girl. Izzy was sure she was nice if her mother liked her, and it would probably be wise for Izzy to forget all about Mel Thomas and meet the woman. But who knew if she was gay. It wasn’t like her mother had very good gaydar. Nice wasn’t exactly what Izzy was looking for right now. She wanted someone exciting who made her mind swim and her belly tingle. That was Mel Thomas.
When she reached the restaurant, Izzy started preparing the sauce for the dinner crowd. She smashed and chopped a head of garlic, then turned her knife over and scraped it from the cutting board into the pot with the onions and fresh basil sautéing on the stove. She added a hunk of butter, letting it melt in the middle before adding the browned veal. She smiled. Her Bolognese sauce was obviously Mel’s favorite because she ordered it at least twice a week. Never the same pasta, but always the same sauce.
It was a good thing lunch had been slow, because Izzy’s mind hadn’t been on cooking today. She thought about the way Mel had felt in her arms last night, and her body warmed. She was trying to pace herself, but damn, it was hard to be around that woman and not want to kiss her senseless. If she came by again tonight, Izzy promised herself, she would control her urges. But then she thought about the way Mel’s green eyes had darkened when their gazes met and knew she wouldn’t. She wanted this woman, and she wanted her badly. She would probably get carried away; she just hoped she didn’t scare her off.
*
The day had flown by, and with Nancy’s help, Mel had finished her work much earlier than she’d expected. It was just about seven when they pulled into the parking lot of Bella’s Trattoria. Mel met Nancy at the door, having made sure they’d driven separate cars this time.
“After you brought me here the other day, I get why you come here so often,” Nancy said, pulling the door open and filing in after Mel. “I’d been wondering when I could convince you to bring me back. The food is so fabulous I’ve been having dreams about it.”
“Nancy, I know it’s good.” Mel chuckled. “But having dreams about it? You must be missing out on something else at home.” She gave her a suggestive look. “Has Ann been holding out on you?”
“No. She pretty well keeps those fires burning.” She blew out a slow breath “When she’s around.”
The hostess led them to Mel’s usual table, away from the door and close to the fireplace.
“Still not exclusive, huh,” Mel said as she sat down.
“Nope. I’m not sure I want to be exclusive. I mean the sex is great, but when we’re not having it, she’s not really concerned with what I want. We watch the movies she picks out, and we go to her favorite restaurants. Heck. We even eat eggs the way she likes them.”
“Have you talked to her about it?”
“I’m not really sure how.”
“Just tell her you want your eggs scrambled.” Her voice was louder than she expected, and Angie gave her a funny look when she came to take their drink order.
“How do you like your eggs, Angie?” Mel asked.
“My eggs?” she asked, obviously confused.
“Yes, your eggs. How do you like them cooked?”
“I like them over easy. Why?”
“Say your boyfriend served them to you scrambled every time he fixed them. Would you eat them?”
She rocked her head back and forth. “I’d probably eat them the first time because he fixed them for me. But after that, I’d tell him how I like them.”
“And if he scrambled them again?”
“I’d take over the egg-making.”
Mel raised an eyebrow and shot Nancy a look. “See?” She glanced back at Angie. “Thanks, Angie. We’ll have a couple of glasses of the house cabernet and…” She turned to Nancy again. “You want what you had last time?”
She nodded.
“Two orders of linguini Bolognese.”
*
“I need an antipasto tray,” Angie blurted as she came through the kitchen door. “The Thomas woman is here again and wants the Bolognese times two.”
Izzy’s ears perked up. “Is her husband with her?”
“No, thank God. She’s with some lady, and she’s asking me all kinds of crazy questions.”
Izzy peeked out into the dining room. She was with the flirty woman she’d brought in a couple of weeks ago. Nancy, she thought. She’d hoped Mel would come alone so they could spend a little more time together. She ducked back into the kitchen and started to work on their orders.
“How’s it going out there?” Izzy asked Angie when she came back in to pick up another party’s order.
“Busy!”
“That’s good news.” She picked up the pasta orders for Mel and Nancy. “I’ll deliver these for you so they don’t get cold.”
“Thanks. Don’t forget the cheese.”
“I won’t.” Izzy hadn’t always been the chef. In her younger days she’d waited tables in the restaurant while her mother cooked.
“Good evening, ladies,” Izzy said as she approached the table. “I have a pasta Bolognese and a pasta Bolognese.” She smiled as she slid the plates in front of the women. “Would either of you like Parmesan?”
“I’d love some,” Nancy answered.
“Yes, please,” Mel said.
She gathered the cheese and grater from the wait stand and grated a generous amount on both dishes.
“Can I get you ladies anything else right now?”
Izzy slipped her hand into her pocket and rubbed Mel’s keys between her fingers. “I’m sorry. I left your keys at the house. I can bring them with me tomorrow or…maybe you can come by and get them later tonight?” Izzy could practically hear the wheels turning in Nancy’s head.
“I’ll probably just get them from you tomorrow. If that’s okay?”
“Sure.” Izzy smiled. “I’ll make sure to bring them. Enjoy your meal.” She backed away from the table, then turned and strode back into the kitchen. She probably shouldn’t have done that, but Izzy was still a little miffed she’d taken her car this morning without knocking. From the look on Nancy’s face, she and Mel were going to have some interesting dinner conversation.
“Oh my God, you and her?” Nancy squealed, barely waiting until Izzy was out of earshot to start peppering Mel with questions.
“Stop. I told you nothing is going on between us.”
“Then why does she have your keys?”
“I just had a little too much to drink last night, and she g
ave me a ride home.”
“You closed this place down last night?”
“Something like that.” Mel evaded eye contact.
“You have to tell me. Spill. Now.”
“I was upset about Jack.” She put her fork down. “She saw him at the market down this way yesterday.”
“So he’s back?”
“Looks that way, but when I called him he said he wouldn’t be home for at least another week.”
“That bastard! You really need to get rid of him.”
“I don’t want to talk about that right now.”
“Okay then, tell me more about last night. So you got drunk here and she took you home.”
“I was actually at her place. She cooked dinner for me.”
“I was right all around.” Nancy chuckled as she sipped her wine. “Jack’s an ass and the lady chef wants you.”
“Well, Jack is an ass, but I don’t think Izzy wants me. I’m a married straight lady to her.” She took a bite of bread.
“We both know better than that. You’re not going to be married much longer, and just because you’ve been in a relationship with a man for the past ten years doesn’t mean you’re straight. I can remember a time when—”
“That was a long time ago, Nance.”
“It’s never too late to find your soul mate.” Nancy nodded toward the kitchen. “She’s keeping an eye on you.”
Mel glanced toward the kitchen and saw the door close quickly. It was all making sense now. The cognac, the phone number. God, I’m dense. It was becoming very apparent Izzy didn’t just want to be the friend to whom Mel told her troubles. It seemed she might have been waiting her out for some time now.