Sweet Heat

by Zuri Day

  “Please. If anybody would ask for help, trust me, it would be Marvin asking me. I was trained by the best, baby, a cook extraordinaire named Nadine, otherwise known as my grandmother, otherwise known as Nana. I don’t need help cooking. I don’t need help beating him or anybody else, and I don’t need any help to win that truck!”

  The passionate declaration brought out smiles from Ryan and another producer. Even serious Sean’s lips turned upward.

  Tracy remained stern as she asked her next question. “Is it true that the two of you cooked together yesterday, worked in the same kitchen at a neighborhood event?”

  Naomi looked from Tracy to Marvin and back. “Who told you that?”

  “Is it true?”

  “We helped cook at a Fourth of July event. Folks could get a hamburger, hot dog, or a ten-dollar plate with the holiday works.” Marvin counted on his fingers. “Choice of meat—chicken, steak, or ribs. Potato—baked, fried, or potato salad. Greens—mustards, collards, kale, or coleslaw.” He looked at Naomi. “What else?”

  “Corn, mac-’n’-cheese,” she mumbled after a sigh, clearly not ready to kumbayah.

  “The works, basically,” Marvin said. “Altogether there are about twenty people helping to pull that off. We’re not all in the kitchen at the same time, but there were a lot of people cooking yesterday and trust me, there was no time for a cooking tutorial, the one I’d be giving to her.” He cocked his head toward Naomi, who sucked her teeth and turned the opposite way.

  Marvin chuckled, shifted in the chair. As had happened during the entire meeting, his voice was as calm and relaxed as his posture. “Look, guys. Naomi and I are friends. I’ve made friends with a lot of people. The contest is intense. You bond in the fire. Naomi and I, we clicked from the very first day that we stood in line right next to each other, because she’s Carson and I’m Carter, and she started talking trash about my food. Right away it seemed as though we’d known each other forever, or grew up together or something. So people see us joking, teasing each other, whatever, it’s easy to see someone assuming that we are dating or scheming or something like that. But as Ted tells us every week, there can only be one winner. And that will be—”

  “Me.” Marvin and Naomi simultaneously declared.

  The room broke out laughing. Even Tracy smiled.

  “Alright, guys,” she said, serious once again. “Thanks for coming down and allowing us to hear your point of view. Sorry for the short notice and urgency, but we wanted to hear right away what you had to say because as a matter of procedure all allegations have to be investigated. We will continue to do that, pass everything on to the legal team and give you guys a call as soon as possible confirming that you will indeed be eligible to participate in the televised finals.

  “However, I do have to make it clear that should there be any evidence that goes contrary to what you’ve shared here, anything that can be proven, then you will be disqualified and two new people from the last elimination will go on instead. I know this is a stressful situation to put on you. We’re stressed, too, believe me. This certainly isn’t the kind of thing we want to deal with and we can’t film the final show until this matter is resolved.”

  “The finals may not happen?” Naomi asked.

  “They may not happen on Saturday,” Tracy clarified. “We hope they will, but obviously this issue has to be resolved first.”

  “Until we reach that resolution,” Sean began, as he closed the tablet in front of him and reached for its case, “it would be a really good idea for the two of you to keep a low profile with the friendship, not do anymore public functions between now and the end of all this. We can’t force it, but if you don’t want to provide more ammunition for the person gunning for you, it’s something to consider.”

  The meeting adjourned and while there weren’t hugs and kisses, the atmosphere upon exit was much lighter than Naomi had experienced when she arrived. She said goodbye to Marvin, an awkward parting devoid of hugs, playful punches or teasing banter, and headed to her car. Once there she sat, dazed from the one-two punch of the past couple hours. Kristy might be pregnant? Her and Marvin might get the boot? What was going on?

  She started her car, passed the gate, and was just about to enter the street when her message indicator dinged.

  You want to meet?

  Despite the seriousness of the situation, Naomi smiled. Marvin’s placid, cordial demeanor hid a rebel and a boss. She texted back.

  You heard the judges. Stay away from each other.

  Do you always do what people tell you?

  They said to lay low.

  I want to lay down.With you.

  Naomi’s smile widened. Between looking but barely touching yesterday and today’s drama, she needed a good full-body massage.

  Where?

  I’ll text you. Then several seconds later a final message. And I’m bringing barbecue sauce.

  27

  A few hours later, Naomi pulled into the parking lot of a hotel near Los Angeles International Airport. She’d had second thoughts about the back-and-forth texts and had called Marvin and voiced her fears.

  “Why should we act guilty when we’ve done nothing wrong? Somebody lies and we get punished? That’s not right.”

  “Not seeing me feels like punishment?” Naomi cooed, warmed by the thought someone felt that way about her.

  “Uh-huh,” he slowly responded with bass in his voice. “Are you going to break me out of jail?”

  Needless to say, she left the house. Dressed in black and feeling like theme music should be accompanying her steps, she quickly crossed the parking lot and entered the lobby. She kept her head lowered, surreptitiously looking for the elevator while trying to look “normal.” Finally spotting a set of metal doors, she made a beeline for them, punched the button and prayed for either the doors or the floor to open up, whichever one could hide her the fastest. It wasn’t until she entered the elevator, the door closed, and she exhaled that Naomi realized she’d been holding her breath since locking the car.

  She found the room number and knocked on the door. It opened within seconds. An arm reached beyond the door, latched on to hers, and pulled her inside. With his arms around her, Marvin backed them both up to the bed. He kissed her, flicked his tongue across the crease of her mouth as a silent bid to enter. Naomi complied. Her tongue went in search of his goodness. She felt Marvin’s hands roam her body and squeeze her cheeks. Moaned when he ground his hardening bone against her. Naomi eased onto the bed. Marvin followed her down. He slid his hand beneath her blouse and lightly rubbed his finger across her nipple as the two led their tongues into a leisurely dance. Except Naomi didn’t want to do it nice and easy. Her nipples were hard. Her panties were wet. Her body was on fire. She wanted it rough.

  “Let me up for a minute,” she whispered.

  Marvin rolled his body sideways. Naomi sat up and began to undress. Marvin took off his clothes, too. True to his word, there was a squirt bottle on the nightstand with what Naomi assumed contained the spicy sauce used yesterday to lather slabs. She loved oral. Had never deferred the act until later and definitely had never turned it down. But the ache she felt was deep within her core, beyond where his tongue could reach but right where his curved tip landed on the down thrust. When he reached for the bottle, she stopped him.

  “Let’s do that later,” she said, her voice hoarse with desire. “Right now, I want you to fuck me. I need to feel you inside me.”

  Marvin’s hand slid from the bottle to the square foils beside it. He grabbed one. Ripped it open with his teeth and came toward her on his knees. “Put it on me.”

  Naomi took the condom, placed it on his tip and channeled a porn star, doing something she’d seen on video but never attempted. She unrolled the condom with her mouth and tongue, stroking his manhood into steel-like hardness and Marvin into a man on a mission. He eased off the bed, then placed his arms around Naomi’s legs. He pulled her to the edge of the bed. Raising her legs, he ran a finger
through her juicy lower lips.

  “Ooh,” Naomi moaned.

  He lifted her legs higher and smacked her ass.

  “Ow!”

  Before Naomi could process all the sensations, Marvin positioned himself between her legs and gave her another one—his hard shaft slamming into her heat. As if reading her mind, or maybe her body, he wasted no time with gentle half-strokes. Instead he set up a slow rhythm—pounding, thrusting, plunging into her again and again.

  Naomi’s grabbed the sheets and held on as time and again he hit her spot.

  “Yes! Yes!”

  Naomi’s words turned into unintelligible noises as orgasms exploded on top of each other. The thrusting increased, faster, harder until a loud moan and a series of shudders signaled Marvin’s release as well.

  Breathing hard, Marvin collapsed on the bed. Naomi rolled over and into his arms. She felt Marvin’s wildly beating heartbeat and took several deep breaths as she tried to slow her own. When Naomi’s breathing returned to normal, she lifted her head. “Did you even speak to me when I came in the room?”

  Marvin responded, his eyes closed. “I had other things on my mind besides talking.”

  Naomi lay back down, too satiated to argue. After a few moments he turned on his side and kissed her temple. “Hey, Juicy.”

  “Hey.”

  “You doing alright?”

  “Are you kidding? I’m amazing. I feel like I could float away.”

  “I’d be flying with you. But I was actually talking about what happened earlier. You were pretty upset.”

  “Somebody lying on us? Yes, I was upset. I still am.” Naomi adjusted the pillows so that she could sit against the headboards. “I know it was Jeremy.”

  Marvin sat up, too. “I wouldn’t put it past him.”

  “I heard that he was telling people the game was rigged even before he got eliminated. He thinks he knows more than the judges.”

  “That’s because one of them fired him years ago, when his career first started.”

  “Which one?” Naomi asked. “Who told you?”

  “Remember the older guy who looked kind of like Jim Belushi?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t remember him.”

  “He didn’t make it past the first round. I don’t remember his name.”

  “It doesn’t matter. Jeremy wasn’t the only one who didn’t want me in the competition.”

  “Who else?”

  Naomi gave him a look. “Really?”

  “Yes, really. I don’t know all your enemies. Was it someone from two weeks ago, when we were on the same team?”

  “It’s somebody from a few years ago when you were in culinary school.”

  Marvin thought for a moment. “Abbey?”

  “Don’t act surprised. That woman can’t stand me.”

  “You’re right, but I don’t think she’d lie about you.”

  “I wouldn’t put anything past her.” Naomi started off the bed.

  Marvin stopped her. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “To take a shower.” She eased off the bed and turned around. “And turn myself into a rib.”

  “I got the sauce, baby!”

  Naomi laughed and walked into the bathroom.

  “Hey, Naomi.”

  “What?” She turned on the shower.

  “Mama raved about your beans.”

  Naomi stuck her head back into the room. “I love your mom!”

  “How’s Nana doing?”

  “She’s okay. But I think yesterday was a little much. She was up when I left and out until the nine o’clock fireworks.”

  “That’s a long day.”

  “Yes, I think she’s feeling it. She looked pretty tired when I left her. So I’m not going to stay out too long.”

  Naomi finished her shower and returned to bed. When Marvin decided to take a quick one, too, she placed a call to Nana. That she got voicemail was no surprise.

  “Nana, it’s me. Called to check on you, but it looks like you’ve already gone to bed. I’m out with Marvin, but it won’t be for too much longer. Love you.”

  After being treated like a rib for almost an hour, Naomi and Marvin took a quick shower together, then checked out of the hotel and went their separate ways. Naomi’s legs felt like spaghetti noodles and she’d be sore tomorrow. But she’d be smiling. That’s what was on her mind when she parked the car and headed inside. The house was dark and quiet. Naomi closed the door softly, turned on the hall light and tiptoed toward her grandmother’s room. She opened the door, squinting in the darkness. The white spread adorned with colorful flowers looked untouched. Where was her grandmother?

  Naomi stepped into the room and whispered, “Nana?”

  Nadine wasn’t a light sleeper so Naomi shouldn’t have been concerned. But a foreboding feeling crept up her spine as she called out again, louder this time, with no response. Nadine’s heartbeat increased as thoughts slammed into her conscience, none of them good.

  “Nay, stop tripping.” She reached for the light switch and flipped it, turned around and saw Nana lying on the floor.

  “Nana!” She raced over to where her grandmother lay next to the bed. “Nana, wake up.” Naomi pulled Nadine into her arms. Her grandmother was warm, there was no blood, and when she quickly checked Nadine’s wrists, Naomi felt there was a pulse. “Nana, stay with me. Please don’t leave me.”

  Naomi pulled a pillow off the bed and placed it under Nadine’s head, then raced to call 9-1-1.

  28

  The day after his clandestine meeting with Naomi, Marvin bopped into the Soul Spot ready to conquer the world. For weeks, since he met her really, he’d been fighting the strong and ever-growing attraction he felt for the woman he dubbed Juicy. But the past few days had allowed him to see her in whole new ways. He loved that what you saw with Naomi was what you got. That the same person who called him out the first day they met, was the same one who told the Food Truck Bucks producers in nonnegotiable terms the source of her cooking talent.

  She was a beast in the kitchen. The annual Fourth of July barbecue’s food detail was a challenging one even for veteran cooks. But Naomi had picked up a knife, rolled up her sleeves, and acted as though cooking was what she did every day. Even though she wasn’t quite herself in Venice Beach, the family members who’d met her at Byron’s house all had good things to say. But his mother’s reaction mattered more than anybody’s, and when Liz winked at Marvin and said “I like that girl,” Marvin decided to step up the romance game. Then came Tuesday and the phone call and subsequent meeting with the Food Truck Bucks producers suggesting it would be good for him not to see her for almost a week. That hitch in the giddy-up almost ruined his plans before he’d laid them out good.

  He entered the restaurant through a side door and stepped into the kitchen. He ran into Janet. She looked unhappy.

  “Hey, Net. Still recouping from the Fourth?”

  “I was over that the next day.”

  “That’s good. It looked like something was bothering you. I thought that might be it.”

  “No.”

  “What then?”

  “She looked toward the kitchen, and then pulled him out to the hallway. “I’m getting ready to start looking for another job.”

  “Girl, you can’t leave before I do. What’s going on?”

  “They don’t want to pay us. And as busy as this place stays, especially on the weekends, I know they’ve got the money to bring our salaries closer to industry standards. I’ve been here five years and my salary has increased less than ten percent. But my responsibilities get bigger. It’s not right. Not when Donald is getting paid what he’s making and only comes in when he wants to.”

  “Yeah, my review is coming up in a few months. If all goes my way, I’ll be out of here by then, and looking for people to help me run my truck.”

  He held up his hand. They high-fived.

  “Don’t forget the little people.”

  Marvin gave her a thumbs-
up and went into the kitchen. Janet had unwittingly increased his motivation and reminded him just how important it was for him to win that truck. Only someone had lied on him to the producers and he might not get that chance. That thought stayed with Marvin for the next three hours, until his first break. When the backup arrived, Marvin headed outside. Several weeks ago, Abbey had given him her number and begged him to use it. Today, she’d get that call.

  He hopped in his SUV and fired it up, turned on the air and Bluetooth. He punched in the number, ready for a confrontation. After the fourth ring, his shoulders slumped and he waited for voicemail.

  “Uh, hold on.” Marvin heard garbled sounds in the background and imagined Abbey trying to retrieve her phone. “Hello? This is Abbey.”

  “Hey, Abbey. It’s Marvin.”

  “Marvin.”

  He could tell that word held a lot of questions. He planned to answer them all, and ask some questions, too.

  “What do you want?”

  “A couple things. First of all, I want to apologize for the other day. Not for what I said, but the way I said it. I don’t like hurting anyone, especially a female, and I know what I said hurt you. So I’m sorry for that.”

  “Okay.”

  “The other reason I called is to find out what you told the producers about me.”

  There was a pause. Marvin wondered if it was because she was surprised by the question, or deciding what type of lie she could tell and appease him.

  “Which producer?”

  “Any of them.”

  “They know I taught you at culinary school, that you were a good student. I think I told Tracy that I thought you were cute. Maybe a word here or there about something you fixed at the contest. Stuff like that. Why are you asking?”

  “Are you sure that’s all you told them? You never mentioned anything to them about me and Naomi and the relationship that you warned me so much about?”