Shiree McCarver
THE FLAVOR OF LOVE
Shiree McCarver
Copyright©2008 by Shiree McCarver
Cover art by Shiree McCarver
Proofer: E. Gail Flowers
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the author except brief quotes used in reviews. This work is fiction. Any similarities to actual persons or events are purely coincidental. May contain adult content of an erotic nature; be advised.
Other books by Shiree McCarver
Shifter Series:
A SATYR’S TALE: SELBY AND DARIUS
FOREVER MOONLIGHT
A SATYR’S TALE: ZAZA AND SYLUS
African Warrior Women Series:
THE LORD AND THE SCORPION
THE PRINCE AND THE PANTHER
Others:
ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS
ALL I WANT IS YOU
FLAVOR OF LOVE
ZOLA’S MAGIC TOUCH
Obsidian Opus Vampire Series:
ETERNALLY I DO
Musicians in Love Series:
J-POP LOVE SONG
VISUAL-KEI ROCK STAR
A HOLIDAY TO REMEMBER
Anthology:
DIRTY LITTLE SECRETS: JAPANESE MALE HOSTS
DEDICATION
I dedicate this book to my Grandmother Gracie who told me, “Being a good cook is the way to a man’s heart.” Bless her. I love her, but she was wrong. It only got me his attention. It was the spices we used in the bedroom that kept the heart fires burning. Cooking for me is very relaxing. The kitchen is where I do some of my deepest thinking and it’s a place where my characters like to congregate in my mind. Thank you Granny for all the Sunday suppers you fixed us as a family. You taught me there were many flavors to love. I miss you.
PROLOGUE
San Francisco, 2004
“What is it Mom? You’re having a vision aren’t you? I can tell.” Etta clasped her mother’s cool hand in hers. Before her mother could reply, she let go of her fingers and moved towards the glass window of the waiting room as the double outside doors opened in the corridor. “They are bringing in someone else!”
Her mother came to stand beside her. Etta moved to the opening of the reception room door and waited for them to come by. She looked on in horror, her breath catching in the back of her throat as the third hospital gurney in the past fifteen minutes rolled through the automatic doors of the hospital emergency room. Fisting the ample skirts of the wet and stained white taffeta wedding gown she wore, she lifted them and rushed forward towards the approaching gurney.
“Oh God…don’t let it be him,” she prayed. Her mother grasped her arm to pull her out of the way as they rushed by.
“Mom, did you see all the blood? I know it wasn’t Toby because I could tell the man wasn’t a Black man, but it could have been Neil. Could you tell?”
“It wasn’t Neil, Etta dear,” her mother, Fay Jones, announced placing a hand on her arm.
“If it wasn’t Neil, why did you have that look on your face when the gurney passed?” she argued.
“Etta, sweetheart, calm down,” her mother crooned. “It wasn't Neil. The man was Asian.”
“Did you have a vision?”
A light frown puckered the older woman’s brow. “Yes, about the man that just entered the emergency room.”
“Is he going to make it?”
“Yes, but I’m afraid the people with him didn’t make it.” She tugged on Etta’s arm. “Come, let’s go back into the waiting room and have a seat. We are just in the way out here.”
“I don’t want to sit down. I can’t” Etta fretted, strolling back inside the sitting area. Her shaking fingers twisted at the delicate ivory-laced trimmed handkerchief in her hands. She looked at the kerchief. It was the “something old” because it once belonged to her great-great grandmother who hand-stitched the trellis of blue roses sprouting from the center. The color also gave her the “something blue.”
It was her dream to carry on the traditions of the women in her family and carry this most precious heirloom down the aisle with her. It also represented the “something borrowed” because it currently belonged to her mother until the day she passed away. All of the women that carried this token of love had remained with their husbands until death did them part. There had never been a divorce; however the women in her family always outlived the men they married. So that could be why the divorce rate was low and the widow rate was high.
Etta reached up to finger the “something new.” Neil had gifted her, as a pre-wedding gift, a pair of squared diamond-studded earrings that she now wore in the second piercing of her ears.
“Dammit, someone should have told us something by now. Didn’t they call because they were on the way here? If so, why aren’t they here?”
If her emotional outburst disturbed the others in the waiting room, they didn't let on.
“Etta, keep your voice down. This is a hospital emergency room,” Fay chastised. “Everyone here is suffering along with you and getting angry at the medical staff is not going to change what has happened. This is a big hospital and if they came in by helicopter, they most likely came in through another entrance.”
Etta took in a long breath of air and blew it out slowly. Her mother was right. They could be here somewhere in the hospital being helped and this wasn't just happening to her. This awful moment in time was happening to everyone from her family to Neil's and others that were involved in the accident. Her eyes trailed over to her brother's girlfriend. Each of them had someone they love to lose.
“I’m sorry,” she apologized to her mother. “Still, if you do sense that Neil or Toby has left us, you would tell me, wouldn’t you?”
“Etta…” her voice trailed off. Tears welled in her soft brown eyes. “Don’t ask this of me, please. With the wedding and all, it…I’ve been an emotional wreck all day. I don’t trust all of what I’m seeing. Let’s just wait it out like we would if I didn’t have visions.”
“Mom, I can tell you’re dancing around my question. You knew Daddy had passed away in his sleep before we left the hospital cafeteria and went back up to his room. Don’t start lying to me now. Not today, when I need you the most,” she begged.
“Etta.” Fay’s expressive face changed and became somber.
“I knew it. You do know.” Etta's voice grew flat. “Who is it mom? Neil? Toby?”
“Etta, don’t make me say it aloud,” she sobbed, biting on her bottom lip.
“Is it both of them? Mommy, noooo!”
“No…no, not both of them…it’s…” Her mother's lovely face crumpled in grief.
“Who?” Etta hissed. “Just say it!”
“What’s going on over here?”
Etta looked up through tear-filled eyes at Neil’s father, Frank Tutillo, as he approached and placed a comforting hand on her mother’s arm. “What’s going on? You’ve heard something?”
“Mom has had a vision about Neil and Toby. One of them didn’t make it.”
“Is that true?” Frank’s shaggy eyebrows came together in a frown. “I respect your gift Fay, but if you don’t mind, I rather wait and hear what the doctors have to say.”
“This is why I didn’t say anything. At this time, I don’t believe my visions will benefit anyone in my current state of mind. I don’t feel I can rely on my own visions as the moment and I tried to explain this to my daughter. It would be best if we wait and see what happens,” Fay murmured.
Etta grew still. She heard her mother’s words but she knew from experience her mother’s visions about death were never wrong. She also knew if the one that had died affected only
their family she wouldn’t avoid saying it aloud. It had to be Neil. Her mother didn’t want to dash away what little hope his father was holding on to.
She didn’t know if she could take another breath knowing Neil was gone. How could she pretend to be oblivious in front of Frank when she felt as if she was dying inside?
“I can’t breathe.” Etta moved off to the side and leaned against the wall.
“Etta, don’t do this. Baby, please don’t come to any conclusions,” Fay said and walked over to where she was standing. “Let’s wait and see what the doctor will say, okay?”
Neil…Neil…Neil. His name played over and over in her mind like a scratched place on his favorite jazz album. There was no way he would leave her on their wedding day. He wanted this as much as she did. They were in the midst of the beginning of an awesome future. Neil signed a new six-year football contract. They’d just placed a down payment on a new house with enough room for the three children they’d planned on having.
She closed her eyes for a moment and a wretched moan tore from her throat before she whispered, “I can’t do this. Your visions aren’t ever wrong when it comes to death. We both know this and if it had been Toby, you would have just said so. But because it’s Neil, you didn’t want to tell his father the truth.”
“It’s not my place. I promise you, we can get through this together,” Fay assured her.
“Mom, how will I be able to go on without him?”
“Sweetheart--”
“I need him and he needs me. You know he’s color blind and without me how is he going to pick out matching socks?”
“Come Etta, you’re shaking,” Neil’s father stepped forward and placed his hands on her shoulders. “Sweetheart, why don’t you have a seat over here?”
She moved away from his hands. She couldn’t bear to look at him. He was an older version of Neil. “Don’t worry about me. Why don’t you go to the reception desk and remind them that we are still waiting on news.”
“Yeah, it has been about an hour since I asked last,” Frank’s deep voice cracked with emotions. “I think I will go down the hall and get another cup of coffee. Either of you want me to bring you back anything?”
Both women declined.
As soon as Frank left the room, Etta looked at her mother. “I can’t believe this his happening,” she sobbed. “I woke up so happy this morning. I haven’t seen Neil for two days. I missed sleeping with him, touching him and now I never will again! What am I going to do? How am I going to finish getting through this day without him? What if I won’t be able to see him again and say goodbye? What--”
“Etta, you must stop this sweetheart. It’s not good for you or anyone else,” Fay Jones voiced, caressing the tears from her daughter’s moist cheeks. “
“It's got to be okay, Momma.” One corner of her mouth twisted upward. “Don’t you see what this is? You’re right, you could be wrong. Neil and Toby probably forgot to turn on their cell phones. They might even be at the chapel right now wondering where we are!”
“Etta, what about the phone call we received from the hospital?”
“How do we know it came from the hospital? What if this is some kids prank? They heard about the car pileup on the causeway through the news and started playing pranks on people. Watch, Frank will come back in here and tell us it’s all some big misunderstanding. Neil and Toby are fine and waiting for us at the church.”
“I see Frank coming down the corridor. Let’s go find out if he has any news,” Fay suggested.
“You will see I am right,” a smile trembled over her lips.
Etta walked towards Frank. He came close and looked down at her intensely. A glazed look of despair began to spread over his face. She felt the nauseating sinking of despair. He dragged her against him and wrapped his arms about her, binding her arms to her sides as he whispered in her ear.
“I’m so sorry sweetheart, our boy is gone. Neil is gone,” he said in a moist low, tortured sob against her ear. His hold tightened as she swooned against him.
“No!” She protested. Her breath came in shallow gasps as her senses shattered. A suffocating sensation threatened to choke her and when she released her breath, it came out in another heart wrenching scream. Etta’s teeth chattered, her body trembled and her knees knocked together beneath her wedding gown. Only Frank’s body and arms kept her on her feet. She wept aloud, her nails biting into her palms leaving bloodied crescent shapes.
The happiest day of her life turned out to be the worst.
CHAPTER 1
San Francisco, 2007
Keigo Kyou rubbed his aching abdomen.
“That ulcer acting up again, Judge?”
“It’s been a long day. Longer than usual since we are trying to wrap up the last four episodes of the season.”
“Well, this is the last one; maybe it won’t be too difficult.” Keigo held his arms back to allow his judicial robe to be slipped on. She smoothed her hands over his shoulders and smoothed out the material. “I was thinking, Judge. Since you’re wrapping up the season and will be going on summer vacation, how about you allow me to buy you a drink to celebrate the renewal of twenty more episodes?”
The director called out, “Everyone take your places; we are about to begin!”
The makeup artist pressed the sheet of rice paper to his forehead and nose to prevent camera shine. “Sorry, but I already have plans. Maybe another time, Caroline,” he gave her a polite smile.
“You always tell me the same thing,” she pouted.
“Yet you keep asking,” he pointed out.
“Can’t blame a girl for trying,” she whispered and winked at him before stepping aside.
“Nope, as long as you don’t mind my continuing to say, ‘no’,” he grinned.
“All quiet in the courtroom. Key announcer!” The director gave a hand gesture to start the music.
“You are about to enter the courtroom of Judge Keigo Kyou. The people are real. The cases are real. The rulings are final. This is his courtroom. This is Judge Kyou.”
“Enter Bailiff on 1, 2, 3…”
Bailiff Williams took his place next to the bench. In a deep booming voice, he announced to the courtroom, “This court is now in session, all rise.”
Keigo stepped out of his chambers and made his way to the bench.
“Key announcer.”
“Tanesha Lewin is suing personal chef and owner of the online business Food Aura for the money she paid to cater her wedding.”
“Bailiff on 1, 2, 3…”
“Be seated!” He leaned over, handed the file to Keigo and said, “Your Honor, this is case number DC-07-4335, Lewin vs. Jones. All parties have been sworn in.”
“Okay, let’s get on with it then. Now, Mrs. Lewin, you hired catering services from this woman. And you were not happy with the meal, is that correct?”
“Uh…excuse me, Judge. First, let me say you are much cuter in person--”
He glanced at Miss Jones long enough to say, “Miss Jones, you do not speak in my court until you're called upon to do so.” Keigo interrupted automatically, barely giving the speaking woman a second glance.
This was not the day for dramatic outbursts or anything else. This was to be his last case before embarking on a two-month long awaited leave. From what he read in this case file, it should take less than ten minutes for him to render a judgment.
“Your Judgeship, you'll have to forgive me. I was wondering why she gets to tell her side first? I'm sure if you just let me explain the unpleasant situation, you will just throw her petty ol' case right out of your courtroom.”
Keigo, with a scowl, pulled his reading glasses off his nose and placed them on top of the papers giving the uncouth woman his full attention. His dark eyebrows lifted in surprise as he took time to look at her. She was thin, toffee colored skin and of medium height. Her dark hair was worn in a natural wild style like a halo about her face and shoulders, and if he squinted hard enough he would swear he could make out
the darkness of her nipples beneath the white stretch neck peasant blouse.
The first thought that came to mind was a crazed gypsy fortuneteller he'd seen in some “B” grade horror film. The only difference was the woman in the movie wasn't a Black woman that didn’t know how to keep quiet in his courtroom. Sometimes being on television brought out the worse in people.
“If we may continue,” he mumbled and rubbed at the throbbing in his stomach. “Miss Jones, I can assure you there is a method to how I do things around here. You will get your turn in due time.” Keigo’s dark eyebrows lifted in disbelief. The woman had the gall to shake her head at him as he was speaking. What the hell? Shouldn’t the director yell cut or something? Of course not, this has the potential for “great TV” and what the director didn’t want to keep, he would edit out later.
“Nope, Judge Cutie, it's my reputation and character coming into question here and I reserve the right to defend myself.” His mouth dropped wide in surprise when she moved from behind the podium with a swirl of scarlet and white-layered skirts swaying about her slender ankles and bare feet?
“Miss Jones, you need to go back to your podium, please. This still happens to be a court of law.”
“By the way, call me Etta.” She gave him a dimpled grin and winked. His second wink within the past fifteen minutes. He wasn’t impressed. His stomach hurt and he was quickly losing reign on his patience.
Releasing a loud sigh, he forged ahead. “Miss Jones, you may address me as Judge Kyou, Mr. Chief Justice or Your Honor,” Keigo corrected her before proceeding to ask, “I may regret asking this, but tell me please, why are you standing in my courtroom without shoes?”
“Oh, Your Judgeship, I have them with me. I’m just not wearing them.”
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