The Flavor Of Love

by Shiree McCarver

  Indeed Keigo understood all too well. This is why he kept his nose clean, and didn’t bring any added attention to his personal life than necessary. He took this job to live an easier and quieter lifestyle. He didn’t do interviews or skits on other shows. He came in, did his job, allowed marketing to create this mysterious persona of him and went about his business.

  “Tell me, why should I be concerned about your career? You obviously haven’t been. Look at your actions in my courtroom today.”

  “Well, if you feel that way,” she pouted prettily. “Then you might as well throw me in jail right now, but make sure if the media gets a hold of my mug shot, they get the picture with my good side and not one of a front face shot. No one looks good in those.” She held her arms out and put her wrists together. “Take me. I’m yours.”

  Keigo winced as the tick in his left eye matched the dull throbbing in his stomach. The tinkling of the numerous bells around her dainty wrist tinkled with each movement.

  “Go back to your assigned stand and put your shoes on, Miss Jones. I’m going to make a ruling,” Keigo said, his voice dangerously soft.

  “Does this mean I’m not going to jail?” She asked.

  The woman was clueless. “Now you owe me thirty-eight days Miss Jones, so you’re not helping your case. Do you want to make it forty-one and offer me your ass again?” He smirked.

  Everyone laughed.

  She rolled her eyes and dropped her crossed arms to place her hands on her hips. Her head bobbed on her long slender neck as she said, “Oh what the hell, I might as well go for broke since I’m going to rot in jail anyway, right?”

  He watched her stomp over to the podium where she was suppose to be standing in the first place and snatch up her purse.

  “What are you up to?” Keigo asked.

  “I didn’t want to have to do this,” she fussed.

  “Phil, make sure she doesn’t have a weapon of some sort. I don’t trust her.”

  The courtroom laughed.

  “She’s clean Judge. You know we check everyone out before they come in here,” Phil answered with a grin.

  “Even breath spray would be a dangerous weapon in that woman’s hand,” Keigo commented.

  More laughter erupted and Keigo grinned. He saw all the other shows and they all seemed to have a comedic relief in the midst of seriousness. It never happened in his court. It was a refreshing change. People were actually finding him humorous. There’s a first time for everything he supposed.

  “What does she have there?” Tanesha asked loudly. “She can’t go bringing evidence into this case I don’t know about!”

  “What I have here on this camera proves that Tanesha was not dissatisfied with the food I prepared for her wedding.” She moved towards the bench and came up on her tiptoes before him to place the small video camera on his bench.

  “Will you please…please go back to your podium and for God’s sake, keep quiet Miss Jones,” Keigo moaned, placing a hand on his stomach.

  He wasn’t surprised when she ignored him. Again.

  “Also, you should already have copies of the contracts. There are initials at the bottom of each contract page, her initials. Tanesha had no special specifications such as family members who are allergic or don’t eat nuts, seafood, pork, vegetarians, etc. As you can, see none of those boxes were checked off.”

  Keigo grimaced and rubbed his stomach.

  “I apologize for giving you a hard time,” she whispered softly. He assumed it was for his ears only, but she forgot as long as they wore microphones, nothing was private. “It wasn’t my intention to bring you added stomach pains.”

  His eyes locked on her face, pleasantly pleased by the genuine and sincere tone of her voice. She fluttered beautiful long dark eyelashes at him and gifted him with another one of her mesmerizing grins. Once more his body betrayed him and hardened.

  “Uh…uh, apology is accepted, Miss Jones.”

  “Now, sweetie, this is between me and you,” she said softly tweaking her forefinger for him to come closer.

  His interest peeked. He stood, placed one hand over his microphone and nodded at hers to do the same. He leaned over his desk. “Now, what you say will remain between us.”

  “You know what Judge Handsome?”

  The sweet seductiveness of her throaty voice caused all kinds of thoughts to run through his head. He was thankful for the fullness of his judicial robe. “What, Miss Jones?”

  “I think you’re gorgeous, especially when you’re not so serious. I just needed to say it.”

  “Thank you. Now can we finish this so we can call it a day and go home?” He asked in hushed tones.

  A probing query came to her eyes and he suspected she had an ulterior motive for giving him honey sweet compliments.

  “Mmm, does this mean I’ve made my case? Are you going to dismiss the twenty days of service?”

  He was right.

  Keigo released a disappointed sigh, “Forty-one days, Miss Jones, and the answer is no.”

  Keigo tried not to smile at her pretty pout but he couldn’t help it.

  She narrowed her brown eyes on him and said, “What if I offer you a deal? What if I give you fifteen days of my chef service? Free of charge, of course.”

  “Of course,” Keigo repeated. “No, thank you.”

  “Twenty days and I promise to heal your bad tummy?” She continued to bargain.

  “Thirty days and you got a deal.”

  “Deal!” She beamed and held out her hand.

  Keigo ignored the offer of a handshake. “My word is enough, Miss Jones. Now return to your proper place and we will wrap this up.”

  She let her hand drop and her right eyebrow arched at him. “Say, ‘pleas’” and apologize to me for making this entire process more difficult than it had to be. As you can see the case is cut and dry. There’s a contract; she signed it. There’s video evidence of her at the wedding with her arm wrapped around my shoulder thanking me and telling everyone how wonderful everything was.”

  “Oh, for goodness sakes!” Keigo groaned in frustration, rubbing at his stomach and temple. He didn’t care if this was “good TV” as Marco put it. He wasn’t an entertainer. He was a District Court Judge and he was tired of her running his courtroom.

  As if she hadn’t caused enough disruption for one day, she was actually waiting for him to apologize. His eyebrows shot up almost to his hairline. The irritating minx had the nerve to wink at him and flash those silly dimples. Dimples like that shouldn’t be on a grown woman!

  “Miss Jones, I swear you are crazy lady,” he muttered.

  “Oh, now you can see she’s a nut!” Tanesha yelled at him. “You couldn’t just take my word for it. I’m thirty minutes late for my appointment because--”

  “Do you want to end up in the same predicament that she is in, Mrs. Lewin? If not, continue to keep your mouth shut,” Keigo stood and pointed gavel at Etta. “As for you! I realize as long as you are in here, I will not be allowed to do my job,” he stated in a low menacing voice. “Bailiff, take Miss Jones to a holding cell. Maybe a few minutes alone in her own company will do her some good.”

  “What? Wait, I’m sorry, okay. You don’t have to apologize! Look, I really can’t go to jail. I don’t like confined spaces. I--”

  “You’re still talking? Phil. Enjoy the jail cell, Miss Jones,” Keigo stated while the Bailiff grabbed Etta by the upper arm and reached for his handcuffs. “No!” He stopped him by raising a hand. “I don’t think those are necessary, but if you happen to have a muzzle I’m sure everyone would appreciate it.”

  The audience laughed.

  “Oh you…you bully!” Etta called out. “You know what? You may be cute, but you’re an ass for putting a woman in jail!”

  “Calm down and walk this way, Miss Jones.” The bailiff tugged at her until they were out the side door. The door closed but he could still hear her ranting.

  Keigo squared his shoulders. His grin grew wider. Softly a chuckle
escaped his lips and he murmured, “Boy, I pity the man that has to wake up next to that mouth every morning.”

  The audience laughed.

  He smirked. He could be amusing, sometimes.

  The smug grin left his face. A brief picture of him waking up next to Etta seized his thoughts. Keigo could imagine the heaviness of her eyes gazing over at him; the fullness of her lips, moist and begging to be kissed, moaning his name.

  He pushed aside the thoughts. The pain in his stomach must be causing a numbing in his brain for thinking such a crazy thought. She wasn’t even his type. Whatever that was. It had been three years since he had been with any woman. He didn’t know if he was ready yet to get back in the dating world.

  Once Phil returned to the courtroom with his customary stern and practiced exterior then quietly returned to his place to play the tape on the monitors.

  “Enough, I’m ready to rule,” he turned his attention to the courtroom and announced. “In light of this tape and contracts that you did indeed place your initials on each paper approving of the menu, I hereby declare this case dismissed!” Loudly he slammed down the gavel and moved to step down from the bench.

  “Hey! Wait a damned minute!” Tanesha bellowed. “What about my money! She is a crazy ass woman!”

  “I won’t disagree with that, but it obviously has nothing to do with her ability as a chef, Mrs. Lewin. You made that fact clear in the wedding video.

  “So she just walks away from everything, just like that?” Tanesha Lewin stated.

  “No, unfortunately Miss Jones owes my court a fine and thirty days for her disruption,” Keigo stated. “If I had been allowed the opportunity to do my job, I was ready to dismiss the case on the contract and recommendation letters submitted by guests that had attended the wedding.”

  “Court is dismissed,” Phil announced.

  While the others completed the day’s production wrap and interviews with the plaintiff and audience members, Keigo made a quick exit to his chambers and slammed the door shut behind him. He wasn’t in the mood to sign autographs and chat with fans. Of course, his producers would have something to say about it but after today, he was about to tell them where to shove the entire show.

  For a while now, he had been wondering if this was what he wanted to do anymore. There was a time when all he wanted was to someday sit on the Supreme Court. He was considered a boy genius graduating from Harvard Law School at the tender age of eighteen. His father had mapped out his entire life and when he died his dream had become his own. That was until the accident changed his entire life and limited his options.

  With a soft curse, he shrugged out of his robe and hung it up on the assigned hook to let Nan, his personal assistant, know it needed to go to the drycleaners. Don’t do this. Don’t dredge up the past. Just let it go, he told himself.

  Dropping down tiredly into a black leather chair behind the oversized cherry wood desk, he leaned back and lifted his feet to rest on his desk with one ankle crossed over the other. His hand dropped onto his stomach, rubbing the dull ache. The pain was a gentle reminder that he wasn’t following the doctor’s advice by cutting back. He didn’t know how much more cutting back he could do. His illustrious judicial career had turned into a joke for late night comedians. The only recourse was to retire from the field of law altogether. He wasn’t sure it was something he was prepared to do. He’d already lost everything else he gave a damn about.

  “Can that crazy woman really cure my stomach woes?”

  CHAPTER 2

  Keigo was ready to hit something or someone, Marco in particular after listening to his praise of Etta Jones' cuteness and vibrant personality. He continued his boisterous regaling of the show and had the nerve to tell him that he and Etta had superb chemistry.

  “Thank God it's a reality show or I would be supposing you're suggesting we make her a permanent part of the show,” Keigo sighed.

  “Wouldn't it be great? We can have her predict the result of the trial at the start of the show and have the audience vote if they agree or disagree. We can--”

  “She's not that type of psychic, Marco,” he interrupted.

  “Huh?”

  “From what I understand, Etta has an uncanny ability to know what you want to eat before you do. The last place she worked didn't have menus. She would send out the meals without anyone ever placing an order. My understanding is that it was highly successful.”

  “I can’t believe that would fly. People actually paid for that? I usually don’t go to certain restaurants until I know what I want,” Marco reasoned.

  “It’s California; everything flies out here,” Keigo snorted on a laugh. “It’s completely baka, foolish, and I don’t see how anyone can believe that psychics are real.”

  “Oh really? Then why are you allowing her to cook for you? She is going to be yours for thirty days, right? I suppose you can find out first hand if it’s real or fodder,” Marco teased.

  “I only agreed because putting her in jail would only bring bad publicity for us,” Keigo protested.

  “What do you mean by that?”

  Keigo simply arched an eyebrow that dared him to deny it, “Meaning she has a following of her own. She’s listed all over the Internet. First, it seems she was part of a team with her mother. They took the act on the road with a traveling carnival and now she has her own online cooking show and business. So with her being somewhat of a local celebrity, I didn’t want to be known as the judge who threw her butt in jail.”

  “You’ve always been a softy disguised as an ass,” Marco said playfully. “I think this lady is just what you need. It’s been awhile since I’ve seen the old you. I’ve missed him and if this woman can breathe life back into you, I’m already one of her biggest fans.”

  Keigo had reached his limit. “Marco--”

  Marco’s cell phone vibrated at his waist and he held up a finger. “Hold that thought, Bro. Let me take this call.”

  Damn, why did Marco have to be so blunt about everything? He was annoyed at hearing it, but it was the truth. For one brief and crazy moment he was able to laugh without feeling guilt for it. He’d been angry and depressed so long, he completely forgot how exhilarating it could be sharing carefree witty banter with a woman.

  A smile came to his lips. “She never did put on those damned shoes. That’s all I need, the stupid woman catching pneumonia and blaming me for locking her up.”

  Marco clicked his phone shut. “What was that?”

  Keigo blinked. “Huh? Oh, nothing. I was just thinking aloud.”

  “I would stay and chat a bit longer, but I need to go wrap up some stuff before I can call it a night. “Are we still meeting up at Bent Arrow next week?”

  “Same as every year,” Keigo nodded.

  “Etta coming with you?”

  “You say her name as if you’ve known her for years,” Keigo snapped. His eyes locked with Marco. “Tell me why I’d bring Miss Jones to Bent Arrow with me?”

  Marco shrugged his broad shoulders. “Maybe because we don’t have a cook this year and now you have one in your possession for thirty days. Seems to me that the angels are smiling down on you, Bud, and answered your prayers.”

  “I don’t think I can handle being around that crazy woman in such close proximity for a month. Her stopping buy to drop something off or a few hours each day is one thing. This is something completely different.”

  “It’s not like you have to share a cabin with her. I can bunk in with you and she can bunk in with Nan,” Marco suggested.

  Keigo gave him a sly grin. “Won’t that throw a wrench in your and Nan’s plans?”

  “Man, don’t even pretend like you already don’t know I’ve been spending the last month in my own bed, alone! Talk about a fickle ass woman. She’s always finding ways to push my button. One day the relationship is on and hot as hell, the next I’m sleeping in an icebox. Currently, my dick is on ice,” Marco scowled. “Don’t try to change the subject. Etta is our best bet. I know f
or a fact Nan has called at least fifteen people. Everyone is either booked or too cheap to volunteer their services,” Marco shook his head. “Seems to me your time is running out.”

  Keigo arched a brow at his old friend. “I rather pay someone.”

  Marco sighed. “Very well, but if you aren’t going to be here, you might as well cut her loose and forget the entire thing.”

  “Let her off, without any reprimand? You must be kidding,” Keigo snorted. “Heaven forbid if she ends up in my court again someday. She will think she could pull more nonsense.”

  “Mmm, sounds like there is only one thing for you to do because we know how small the odds are that she would make a second appearance on your show.”

  Keigo saw the humor in Marco’s eyes and bit down on the back of his teeth. “Don’t you have something you should be doing?”

  “I do, but this is more interesting. I’ve been meaning to ask you if you arranged for me to have this case on my show because you knew about her reputation of being a handful.”

  “Hey, I read something to that effect, but you can’t always believe what you read,” Marco admitted. “She seemed to be reasonable in the interview. Besides, I didn’t go seeking out the case. I don’t even get to choose; that’s all on the producers. That Lewin Lady went through the website and emailed her complaint and information to the show. They started to pass it up until they saw that the complaint was against a psychic chef. They decided it should be a hoot. They were on the money with this one.”

  “So none of today was staged?”

  “Hell no, that’s why I enjoyed it,” Marco laughed. “You two were smoking hot. It set my handheld monitor to sizzling. Boy, I can’t wait to do the edits. You have to see some of the facial expressions you were making! Priceless! I--”

  “Marco! Didn't you say you had something to do? Get out of my office. I have things to take care of before I knock off.”

  “Is taking care of Etta on that list, Bro?” Marco snickered. “I'm serious. If you haven't considered how you're going to make her serve her thirty days, invite her to cook for us at Bent Arrow. Nan and I will graciously help out in the kitchen as usual, but you know our skills are limited and we have a full house this year.”