Читать книгу Desire September 2017 Books 1 -4 - Yvonne Lindsay - Страница 19
ОглавлениеHow in the world was she supposed to act after that kiss?
As Jasmine waited for Royce outside the nondescript building that housed one of the hottest restaurants in Savannah, she tried to shut her brain down. But the question wouldn’t go away.
Not even in the face of her curiosity about the restaurant. She’d never been to After Hours before today. Word in elite circles was that it was incredible, but Jasmine had never been able to afford to eat here. And, to her knowledge, they didn’t cater events, so she’d let it slide off her radar.
But Royce had insisted he knew exactly what he wanted done with the food for the charity event, and After Hours was it. Since she didn’t have to pry or coax the opinion from him, she’d let him lead.
“Are you ready?”
Jasmine jumped. Tightening her control, she forced herself to take a deep breath before turning toward Royce. “I’m not sure,” she admitted.
Instead of leering, Royce faced her with a benign grin. He could have approached the situation any number of ways, considering how she’d sprinted for her car after he’d kissed her on Saturday, but he didn’t appear to be messing with her.
Though there was something suspicious...
“What’s so funny?” she demanded, hiding her embarrassment behind a sassy attitude.
“You,” he admitted. “Seeing you off kilter is honestly a little fun.”
She studied him a little closer, but still didn’t see any signs of sexual innuendo. That was a relief, but she still had the urge to call him a brat. Even if Auntie would say it was unladylike.
Instead she let him lead her inside with a light grip on her elbow. Being on his territory was fun, but not nearly as comfortable as being the one in control. His confident stride and barely there grin said he definitely knew it.
The closed restaurant was dark, though sunshine tried to peek in around the drawn blinds. The hushed emptiness was disconcerting, though as much as she hated to admit it, the darkness evoked a sense of intimacy.
This meeting didn’t have the same strictly business feel that their previous ones had started out with, even if they had all ended up being out of the ordinary. Especially the last one—that kiss had changed everything for her.
Though she’d never admit it, even under threat of torture.
One of the tall silver doors at the back of the room swung open, revealing a tall, lanky guy in a white chef’s coat. “Royce!”
“Marco.” Royce stepped forward to shake the other man’s hand with more enthusiasm than Jasmine had seen from him before. “Good to see you, buddy.”
“I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”
“Marco, this is my event planner, Jasmine Harden.”
The chef turned his smile in her direction. “Welcome to After Hours.”
“Thank you for having us,” she murmured, leaving out how she’d always wanted to see the inside of this place. Now didn’t seem the time to fawn over something that was so far outside her middle-class budget. Instead, she tried to keep her demeanor as professional as possible.
“Why don’t y’all come back into the kitchen first?” Marco asked.
Jasmine followed him, her heeled boots clicking against the Italian tile floor.
“Royce mentioned that you were unfamiliar with our restaurant,” Marco said over his shoulder. “We serve fresh, local, organic food whenever possible. The focus here is a modern Mediterranean cuisine, though we can add some Latin influence, since I know Royce likes things spicy.”
“Royce Brazier?” Jasmine asked, thinking of the by-the-book businessman she constantly butted heads with. “Are you sure?”
Marco simply laughed, even though Jasmine was only half teasing. And she was pretty sure she could make out the hint of a blush stealing over Royce’s fair cheeks, despite the darkness.
Not wanting to embarrass him further, or draw out any discussion over how “spicy” he might like things, Jasmine said, “I wasn’t aware After Hours catered.” They’d never been on her list before today.
Marco grinned. “That’s because we don’t.”
Jasmine looked between the two men. “I’m not sure I understand.”
“We don’t actually cater here, but I told Royce I would help him out for this event.”
Jasmine was already shaking her head. “That’s not a good idea.” The last thing she wanted was an inexperienced staff working her star event.
“Don’t worry,” Royce said. “Marco did plenty of catering during school and early in his career.”
“And I’m strictly a food man these days. So I’ve already partnered with Geraldine’s to handle the catering service and staffing. You’ve heard of her?” Marco asked.
“Yes. I’ve worked with her on several occasions.” Knowing that the logistics were taken care of helped calm Jasmine’s panic.
Royce nodded as if that settled everything. “Well,” he said, “let’s show Jasmine what we had in mind.”
Jasmine glanced over at him in surprise. That conspiratorial look was back again. For good reason.
When it came to food, Royce showed that he had a few surprises up his sleeve over the next half an hour. Instead of sitting back and only asking a few questions, as he had throughout most of their other meetings, the catering discussion brought out a passion in Royce she’d never seen before...or rather, only seen once before.
She’d more than seen it when he’d pressed his lips against hers.
She watched in unabashed awe as they tossed around menu ideas involving lobster, truffles and exotic spices. Royce certainly knew gourmet food. Jasmine had very little to add except for a few tips and tricks she’d learned throughout all the events she’d executed over the last five years.
Before long, Marco was shooing them to a table in the main room so he could assemble some sample plates for them. Jasmine grinned at Royce as they were seated. “He doesn’t have to do this. I have a feeling anything that comes out of that kitchen is gonna be incredible.”
Royce shook his head. “I never turn down the chance to taste anything Marco wants to make for me.”
“You seem to know each other well.”
“Since we were kids. We grew up not far from each other.”
Jasmine wasn’t sure if she wanted to broach the subject of his childhood. To change the conversation from business to personal. Instead, she glanced around the elegantly stark room now that the lights had been turned up some.
“Is he the one who taught you so much about food?”
Royce only hesitated a moment before he said, “I learned to cook really young, because my mom was gone at all hours.”
So much for avoiding the personal.
“She would also bring home leftovers from different events where she served. That’s how I developed a taste for food that was far out of our budget.”
“I can sympathize.” Jasmine rarely sampled anything that could be labeled cuisine, except at her events. They were more of a down home food family.
Royce grinned. “I’ll have to cook for you sometime.”
Seriously? The guy could cook?
He must have read the thoughts on her face. “Let me guess. You thought I was only the order-in type.”
“Instead of?”
“The mess-up-the-dishes-and-have-to-run-the-dishwasher type.” He relaxed back into his chair. “I spend all day out. Believe it or not, cooking is very relaxing.”
“Well... I wouldn’t know,” she admitted.
This time he was the one to look shocked. “You don’t cook? I thought every good Southern girl cooked.”
“I prefer to eat the fruits of someone else’s labors, in this instance.”
“Then this is perfect for you,” Marco said as he approached across the room.
He deftly placed a couple of long, hand-glazed platters on the table, each filled with gorgeous little colorful morsels that smelled as good as they looked.
“Oh, my.”
Royce glanced up at his friend. “I think she’s sold without a single bite.”
“Just wait until she tastes it,” Marco said with a grin, then strode back toward the kitchen.
Jasmine surveyed the bounty. “I don’t know what to try first.”
“There’s an art to it.”
She raised a brow at him. This was the first time the tables had been turned—a nonbusiness situation where Royce gave her advice.
“Trust me?”
He waited for her nod before lifting a tiny lettuce leaf cradling what appeared to be a meat and vegetable mixture off one of the trays. “Start here.”
Before she could lift a hand to take it from him, he’d brought the bite to her lips. Jasmine felt her smile disappear as she blinked. She could do this. She would remain professional.
Even though this felt far from professional.
She let her lips open. Just as she took the food into her mouth she glanced up and met the delicious heat of his stare. Their proximity reminded her of his kiss, his lips over hers. Talk about delicious.
Sudden flavor burst over her tongue. Cool, crisp lettuce. Spicy meat with an undertone of shrimp. A sweet drizzle that she couldn’t quite identify. As she moaned, she could see a reflection of her own experience in his eyes. His grin said he knew exactly what she was tasting. He picked up a matching hors d’oeuvre and slid it between his lips.
“Just the right amount of sweet to balance the spice,” he said after he swallowed. Lifting a wineglass from the tray, he washed the morsel down.
Jasmine did the same. Her inspection of the trays revealed several options for her next bite, but Royce knew exactly what he wanted her to have. Taste after taste, he walked her through the platters. Spicy butter glazed lobster skewers, meatballs spiced up with chorizo, jerk chicken mini-pizzas...her taste buds were in heaven.
“You were right,” she admitted about halfway through.
Royce gave her the most suggestive look she’d ever seen on his face. “About what?”
“The food.”
He feigned shock. “I did something right?”
“This time you did, smart aleck. This food will be the talk of the town for months after the event.”
“Marco will be thrilled to hear it.”
“But you won’t.”
He shrugged, sobering a little. “I really couldn’t care one way or another. But if I can help him even a little with this, then I’ll count it as a plus.”
“That’s a great thing to do.”
He shrugged again, then searched the platter with renewed enthusiasm and chose another morsel. Jasmine thought she heard the buzz of a phone but couldn’t bring herself to care as she helped herself to a hyped-up version of teriyaki steak that ravished her taste buds.
A good fifteen minutes later, Jasmine heard the phone buzzing again. This time it was accompanied by Royce’s grimace. He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and read the texts. “It’s Matthew.”
For the first time, Jasmine wished that he would ignore his phone. For the first time, her reasons were personal.
The telltale buzz filled the space between them. Matthew wasn’t giving up. “I have to go,” Royce said.
For the first time, the regret in Royce’s voice matched Jasmine’s feelings.
“Too bad,” she said, not caring that her voice had gone husky. “I was having fun.”
His gaze met hers, bringing a return of the electric atmosphere from earlier. “Me, too.”
“Isn’t your business ever fun?” Deep down, she knew she was past the point of being strictly professional.
“I’m good at it,” he finally answered. “But no. Business has never been fun...until now.”
* * *
“So the ring is working!”
“No,” Jasmine insisted, frowning at her youngest sister. “That is not what I said at all.”
“Close enough.”
Why had she even broached this topic? Jasmine should have known better. Her sisters—both of them—had a tendency to take a notion and run with it. Auntie presided over the scene from her recliner in the corner of the breakfast nook. The mischievous look on her face meant there would be no help coming from that direction.
“I don’t know why I tell y’all anything,” Jasmine complained. “It’s just—” But the word business wouldn’t move past the constriction in her throat. She crossed the kitchen to stir the big pot of soup on the stove. Willow had chosen the perfect dinner for a rainy Saturday.
Though the chatter continued behind her, Willow appeared at her side. “Are you okay?”
While confident and decisive, Willow was also very sensitive to others. No one was more willing to lend a helping hand when she saw someone who needed it.
Jasmine lowered her voice. “I just can’t forget how he talked about learning to cook because his mother was never home. And about being named after his father’s car.”
She absently stirred the soup, watching chunks of veggies appear and disappear beneath the liquid surface. The lack of sunlight in the room left the green jewel in her ring lackluster; Jasmine still had the feeling the jewelry was mocking her.
“I don’t know what this is, but Ivy’s right—it’s not just business anymore.”
Ring or no ring.
Willow gave a tiny squeal that she quickly silenced under Jasmine’s glare.
“What about him? What does he think?” Willow asked, echoing Jasmine’s own questions.
She didn’t want to admit that Mr. Business was turning out to be someone completely unexpected. Jasmine could never have guessed that the stern CEO she’d met in his office that first day would be able to melt her with such a hot kiss. But hadn’t that tattoo on his neck hinted at hidden depths? A tattoo she had yet to see in its entirety, now that she thought about it.
“From your silence, I gather Royce is showing signs of moving in a different direction, too,” Willow filled in for her.
“Surprisingly,” Jasmine mused. “I think so.”
“So why not just go with it?”
Jasmine gave the soup a final stir, then peeked into the oven at the cornbread sizzling in a cast-iron skillet. It was a simple delaying tactic, since they all knew cooking wasn’t in her skill set.
“It’s not that easy.” She glanced over her shoulder to check on Rosie, who was cooing at Auntie and Ivy from her bouncy seat. “Even leaving aside the fact that he’s my boss...of sorts. How can I get involved? Royce definitely isn’t the family type. I have Rosie...”
“She’s six months old,” Ivy said from right behind them.
Jasmine jumped. “How’d you move that quick?”
Ivy had a baby face, but her grin made her look even younger. “I have my ways.” She shook her head, making her blond curls dance. “And I wasn’t about to miss what all the whispering was about, now, was I?”
She linked her arm with Jasmine’s and adopted the expression of a captive audience. “Now’s the perfect time for you to live a little. Rosie isn’t old enough to notice at this age. Later, you’ll need to be more careful because she’ll realize when Mommy is gone or bringing someone to visit.”
“I don’t know.” Everything about this change in their attitudes toward each other had Jasmine off kilter. She and Royce had sparred from the moment they met. But now, something different was emerging. Something she wasn’t sure she was ready to face.
Willow nodded in agreement with Ivy, but Jasmine didn’t want to concede that her baby sister was right. She searched for a reply that didn’t make her look like a scaredy-cat. From across the room, Jasmine’s ringtone filled the air.
“Sweetheart,” Auntie called. “It’s that nice young man from the hospital.”
Jasmine shared a look with Willow. The temptation to ignore the call was strong. Jasmine wasn’t ready for the test she could sense was coming around the corner.
“Why don’t you answer it?” Ivy teased. “After all, it’s just business.”
“Brat.”
Willow was less about talk than action. She simply herded Jasmine in the direction of her phone. Jasmine removed her apron as she went. She caught the call right before it switched to voice mail. As she answered, she was acutely aware of her audience.
“Hello?”
“Jasmine?”
Even his voice sounded different. The cadence a little slower. The tone a touch deeper. How was that possible? “Yes?”
“Since our tasting session was cut short, I thought I’d make it up to you by cooking dinner for you.”
That was more like Royce—straight to the point. It was the nature of his point she couldn’t quite grasp.
She could feel the eyes of everyone in the room staring at her. Even Rosie seemed to be watching, still and waiting for her answer to an unknown question. Jasmine hesitated. Going to Royce’s penthouse was definitely not business. She glanced back and forth between Willow’s encouraging expression and Ivy’s excited one. Jasmine forced herself to turn away, to lay the burden of other people’s expectations aside for once.
Even as she paced a few steps and opened her mouth to answer, she wasn’t sure what to say. Was she ready for this? Probably not.
But then she thought over everything she’d been through in the last year. Learning Rosie’s mother was pregnant, that she would probably die. Bringing her to live here. Taking care of her family while learning to be a mother for the first time. All while holding down a crazy job.
What the hell—it was time to live for once.