The Flavor Of Love

by Shiree McCarver

  “Are you finished?” Etta voiced, craning her neck to catch him checking her out. Her lips twisted in a wry smile.

  Keigo turned, scratching a non-existing itch on the side of his nose. “I…I…” His face flushed red. What the hell were they talking about anyway?

  She crossed her arms in front of her. Lifting arched eyebrows at him in question, “So what’s it going to be? Have you changed you mind about my cooking for you? Do you plan on making me serve my thirty days in jail?”

  Keigo continued to stare into her face without answering until she shrugged her shoulders, looked away and continued.

  “I’m asking because I don’t want to rot in a jail cell that some pain in the ass judge threw me in for exerting my rights."

  He chuckled. This was the mouthy Miss Jones he had grown accustomed to. He noticed how she shifted from foot to foot. Seeing her long toes tense and release, he could imagine her pondering over the idea of shedding her shoes once again.

  “Won’t you have a seat, Miss Jones?” His eyes returned to her face and held.

  Etta eyed him suspiciously. “Why do you keep staring at me like that?” She asked him, moving a slender hand to her face and wiping at something that wasn’t there. “Is there something on my face or something nasty on your mind?”

  “What? Nasty? No there isn’t anything nasty on your face. Why would it be?” Confused he supplied, “I wasn’t staring, I was thinking about what I’m about to ask you. I was wondering if what I’m about to suggest to you was a suitable penalty.”

  “Well, if you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking...I would say, don’t even think about it. No sir! I’m not that type of woman and it isn’t happening!”

  His eyes widened in surprise at her outburst. Etta’s face had become flushed and her nostrils flared with anger. He replayed their conversation in his mind to figure out what he said to upset her.

  It took Keigo another moment to realize the dense woman thought he was talking about sex. Did she actually think he was the type that would use his power to bargain for sexual favors? She must have a terribly low opinion of his character.

  Keigo cleared his throat loudly. He contemplated bringing this meeting to a close and calling security to hall her back downstairs to lockup. All his reputation needed was a sexual harassment suit.

  “Don't flatter yourself,” he voiced his irritation. “Why would I want to sleep with you?” Keigo scolded himself silently for sounding too harsh. He didn't mean it, but he didn't want her to feel she had need for concern. His intentions were honorable.

  “Oh please, Man. Who wouldn’t want to sleep with this?” She cocked her head to the side in question and swept her arms wide. “Look at me. I’m sexy and pleasant. I can make you a dessert so delicious it would make you want to slap your momma and I let’s not forget this to die for smile.” She gave him a dazzling deep dimple smile as if to prove her point. “See.”

  Keigo felt a strange flip-flop sensation in his stomach and he didn’t think it was the ulcer. Yes, he could see every delicious detail of Etta. There was no denying she had a heart-melting smile. He would even agree she was sexy in her own way. Pleasant? That remained to be seen, and as for her cooking a dessert that would make him slap his mother? Not in this lifetime. The one thing she didn’t mention was her uncanny ability to drive a sane man crazy.

  “Miss Jones,” He rubbed his hand over his stomach. “As enlightening as this is--”

  “No reason to go into one of your long speeches,” she interrupted holding up her hands and dropping them to her sides. “I’m just joking, so get your judicial robes out of your crack,” she winked.

  “Get my…what?”

  She rolled her eyes heavenward and shook her head at him. “Are you always so damned serious about everything?”

  “I don’t believe I used to be until…” He halted his confession. Catching himself Keigo suggested, “Maybe we should get down to business. It’s been a long day.”

  “Yeah, we might as well get it over with,” she mumbled, dropping into the seat in front of the desk. “Okay, I'm sitting, so let's hear the verdict.”

  “Miss Jones, so as there are no more misunderstandings between us, let me say that I can assure you on my oath as an upholder of the law, I am not making you any indecent proposals--”

  “Damn, that’s too bad.” She met his grimness with a bemused smile on her lips.

  Keigo decided to ignore the wittiness and continued, “What I am offering you is the opportunity to spend your thirty days doing community service. You are welcome to refuse of course.”

  “What happens if I refuse?”

  “You will go back down to lockup to serve the duration of your time.”

  “Don’t sound like I have much of a choice but to take what’s behind door number one,” Etta muttered, her chin set in a stubborn line. “So Scotty, tell me, what have I won?”

  “Who’s Scotty?” He asked. Etta gave him a scathing look. “Oh, I see. Another joke.”

  “If whatever you have in mind means I’m going to be spending more time in your company, maybe I should go ahead and accept time in a jail cell. Your lack of humor is killing me, Judge Handsome,” she snorted on a laugh.

  “I told Marco this wouldn’t work,” Keigo, grumbled. Reaching for his desk phone, he lifted it off the cradle. “Let’s say we forget the offer and you go back to lockup.”

  “Hold up!” She leaned forward at the waist to place one of her hands on top of his.

  Keigo found her touch soft and warm. He grew still. His breath felt as if it blocked the back of his throat, making his breathing labored. It had been a long time since he had felt the gentle soothing touch of a woman.

  He released the phone and looked at her hand resting on top of his. There was a marked contrast between their skin tones, along with texture and size. Keigo found her hand beautiful. Her fingers were long with short clean clipped nails. Her hand appeared small, delicate and yielding in comparison to his large one with its standing veins and blunt tips.

  Keigo leaned forward drawn to her scent. Etta smelled of coconuts and cocoa butter. It reminded him of tanning oil and the tropics. He liked it. To be honest with himself, he liked her, from the brown sugar darkness of her skin to the sweet playful teasing and impetuous bluntness of her voice. Everything about her made him want to know more about whom she was and what were her desires. Being this close to her made him realized how lonely he'd become.

  His jaw clenched, causing the muscle to quiver in his jaw. He didn't want to consider Etta as he would a potential lover. It only complicated matters. In this situation he needed to keep in mind that she was Miss Jones, the barefoot loudmouth woman that interrupted his courtroom repeatedly. She was only here because she had to be, not because she wanted to be.

  Keigo withdrew his hand and his eyes closed involuntarily as he remembered the last time he felt this way about someone. Look where that got him, a lifetime of sadness.

  “Don’t call security,” her voice was resigned. “I promise to listen to what you have to say and take it in serious consideration. I can see you genuinely are trying to work with me here.”

  When she withdrew her touch, Keigo missed it.

  Etta nervously scratched at her head as she dropped her eyes. Was that embarrassment he saw on her face?

  “First let me tell you a little about my credentials. If possible, I would like my community services to be something in my chosen field. I know how sometimes you choose cleaning the highways and stuff. I tell you this because I want you to know that I’m not just some psychic who can cook.”

  “You can read minds too?” His tone was unapologetic.

  “You want to hear this or not?” Etta smacked her lips together.

  “You may proceed,” he uttered with a smile.

  “As I was saying.” She clucked her tongue at him. “My ability to know what a person wants to eat before he or she does is a bonus, yet it doesn’t look practical on paper. In spite of w
hat you may think of me, I do have an impressive resume, Judge Tall, Asian and Cynical.”

  He captured her eyes with his in silent warning. His patience had become thin hours ago. Now she was testing his endurance.

  “I have certifications from some of the top culinary schools in and out of America,” she boasted proudly. “I’ve spent two years as an apprentice for one of Paris’ best pastry chefs. You can add it to my psychic ability to make a meal a satisfying emotional experience for the consumer. When it comes to food, I’m very good at what I do.”

  Keigo couldn’t hide the skepticism on his face. She probably was use to people not believing in her psychic abilities. Her case today in court was the first time he’d ever heard of a Psychic Chef. He didn’t believe in all the others that claimed they had these abilities, so he wasn’t about to buy into one that spoke with food?

  Wait. That was being a bit harsh. Etta never claimed she spoke to foods. She said she knew what people needed or wanted before they ordered. Keigo released an inward chuckle. He couldn’t believe people actually paid for her services. How crazy was that? What idiot went out to eat and not know what they had a taste for? How would they even know what restaurant to go to if they didn’t know what they wanted? Baka! Idiots.

  “Do you have any other look besides that one?” Etta asked, pulling him from his private thoughts.

  “Excuse me? What look is that?”

  “The one that’s says, “Lady, you’re full of shit.” She shook her head and clucked her tongue at him. “Yeah, that’s the one.”

  His mouth curved into smile.

  “Yeah, that’s much better. You really should smile more,” Etta crooned. “I see I’m not the only one with a great smile. You have one too when you choose to show it.”

  Keigo felt wrapped in invisible warmth every time she smiled at him. It could be come addictive he decided. Her easy open manner was melting his resolve.

  “I…I thought we were going to speak seriously,” he stuttered, tugging at his starched collar.

  “I am speaking seriously,” she teased. “You do have a beautiful smile.”

  “Miss Jones,” Keigo warned. “I assume you were going in a particular direction other than my smile. Tell me, for instance, what does all this psychic stuff have to do with being a good chef?”

  “I don’t know if I can explain it,” she sighed loudly.

  “Try,” he urged.

  She placed a finger under her chin and her forehead crinkled in deep thought. “The only way I know to help you understand is by asking you a question? Do you mind?”

  “Go ahead.”

  “Let’s say you call your mother and tell her after not seeing her for awhile that you were coming to visit. On the first night home, what one dish will she make sure to cook for you?”

  “That’s easy,” Keigo beamed. “Fried chicken katsu curry.”

  “Would you have to tell her that or would she just know that fixing this would make you very happy?”

  An expression of comfortable memories softened his eyes. “My mother would just know. When I was sad, she knew it. When I was sick, she knew it. When I fell in love, she was the first to know it before I did.”

  “Those are feelings we never forget, Keigo,” Etta voiced softly. “Nor the foods that we eat during those emotional times.”

  He looked up and his heart lurched. His body vibrated as she said his name. At the base of her throat, a pulse beat and it matched his.

  “I think I understand,” he managed to say. His voice seemed very deep and emotional to his own ears.

  She continued, “Usually, a mother has natural instincts to sense what her children want. It starts while in the womb. A mother suddenly has weird cravings, so instinctively she knows what would stop the cravings--”

  “I disagree,” Keigo interrupted. “Try, trying and try harder, has been my experience.” He shrugged his shoulders with a smug grin on his lips.

  “Experience?” She paused. “I didn’t realize you had children. How many do you and your wife have?”

  She was fishing and it was obvious but Keigo didn’t have the energy to go that deep into his personal life with this virtual stranger. Instead he said, “My going into intimate details of my private life has no relevance to our current conversation.”

  “You’re right,” Etta mumbled. He watched the tip of her pink tongue as she licked her lips, her soft brown eyes flickering down at her hands in her lap. “I was just trying to say the mental bond between mother and child as a means of proving that we all have psychic abilities. You just have to know how to build upon it.”

  “I’m sure if one was a believer it would help,” he stated adding, “I think, when it comes to my mother knowing what to fix for me, it’s because I always asked for the same thing every time I visited home from college. Trust me; there is nothing supernatural about it.”

  “You really are making this harder than it has to be,” Etta rolled her eyes. She twisted her head from side to side before rolling her shoulders as if she was trying to ease the kinks out.

  “Are you getting ready to put a hex on me?” Keigo teasingly asked.

  “Oh please, now you’re getting ridiculous,” she clucked her tongue at him. “I’m not a freakin’ witch! And you better be thankful because if I were, I’d turned you, the frog, into a prince!” she countered.

  “Ouch!” He flinched. “Please, tell me how you really feel.”

  “Come on and get serious for a moment. I want you to tell me about this curry dish your mother makes for you.”

  “I have no idea about everything my mother puts in it except for the basics such as potatoes, carrots, onion, and fried chicken cutlet with a curry sauce on top of sticky rice. All I know is I can’t get enough of it.” Keigo laughed softly.

  “Personally, I'm more familiar with making Indian curry dishes, but I’ve heard of Japanese curry. There are many versions.”

  “True, there are many ways of making the curry roux in my family and if you agree to my offer, I will arrange a meeting between you and my mother so you can try it. I’m sure if you smile at her, she will share the family recipe.”

  Etta’s eyes twinkled mischievously. “Is this your way of saying you would like to introduce me to your mother?”

  “What?” He harrumphed. “I wasn’t saying that at all, I just thought...

  “Thought what, that once I meet her, I would want to be a part of the family?” Her grin widened.

  “Hey, why do you always have to put words into my mouth? I was just trying--”

  “Oh, put a sock in it,” Etta interrupted with a wave. “No reason to get fidgety. It’s not like I’m foolish enough to believe we would date, much less meet each other’s family. I can’t imagine being introduced to your mother as your girlfriend.”

  “You can’t?” He scowled suddenly feeling agitated. He crossed his arms over his chest and asked, “Why not?”

  Her eyes widened. “I…I don’t know. I just don’t think we fit that way.”

  “Really?” His black eyebrows lifted a fraction. It was her turn to fidget in her chair. “Why not? What’s wrong with me?”

  “Nothing is wrong with you! Man, I'm not saying anything is wrong with you. It's just everything seems to be a business transaction with you and I'm not down like that,” Etta explained. “I'm more carefree and when it comes to my personal life, I don't plan anything. Not anymore. I think if you plan for the future, you’re jinxing the outcome. If whatever happens, it happens. You know what I mean?”

  “That’s absurd,” Keigo scoffed. “Why leave things to chance when you can make preparations? Has it occurred to you that the jinx occurs because things weren’t planned appropriately? It’s hard to secure a future with such haphazard thinking.”

  “See, this is exactly what I’m talking about!” Etta let him have it back with both barrels of volume. “We can’t even agree to disagree! This proves my point. We wouldn’t fit.”

  “There is nothing wrong w
ith a couple arguing at times and there is nothing wrong with an imperfect fit when it comes to relationships,” he continued to argue.

  “Please! Relationships are hard in general, so it stands to reason that a common ground would make things go more smoothly like a well oiled machine,” she countered with a slight smile of defiance.

  They both froze in a stunned picture.

  What was wrong with this picture? Keigo went over the argument in his mind. Satisfaction pursed his lips. He threw back his head and laughed.

  She sat there, blank, amazed and tongue-tied.

  “I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s come over me,” he blew out a deep breath. It felt good to laugh like this again. “Do you realize what just happened?”

  Etta voice rose in surprise. “God help me. I finally pushed you too far and you’ve completely flipped over the edge. I’m definitely going to be put under the jail for sure.”

  “No, maddening woman,” Keigo commented. He wondered why she only understood what she wanted to understand. “You claim that we don’t fit, but we just changed sides in mid argument.”

  “I don’t get it,” she huffed. “What’ your point?”

  “Etta, I became the idealist and you became the realist.”

  “No way,” she waved her hand as if swatting at flies. “There isn’t an idealist bone in your fine body.”

  She likes my body?

  Keigo’s grin grew wider.

  “Oh way,” she released a girlish giggle, reached out and hit his hand before placing her fingers over her mouth. Her expressive eyes grew wider and he realized she finally got what he was trying to say. “Oh, my God. You are so right. How did that happen?”

  “I was a lawyer before I became a Judge,” he stated as if it excused everything.

  “What does that have to do with what we were discussing?”

  “It’s a habit for me to argue the opposing views. Too many years of going from debates to courtrooms, I suppose.” He shook his head. “I don’t know what your excuse was.”

  “Me?” Etta winked at him. “I have no excuse. I just like being right.”

  They laughed in unison, the earlier disagreeable tension evaporating out of the room and replaced with a more intimate tension that comes with the joy of being in the company of someone you find attractive.