The naughty chocolatier, p.3
The Naughty Chocolatier, page 3
Yaddi gawked at me, mouth wide open in disbelief. I hadn’t told her the full story because I was tired of it. Just like I was tired of the shitload of pills and the watching what I ate and what I did. I was basically tired of life and was over it all.
“Um,” I reached out, hand propped under her chin, “You can close your mouth now.”
She was on her feet, “That trifling, sleazy no-good son of a bitch. I’ll kill him.”
“See.” I waved a finger at her, “This is exactly why I didn’t tell you. Don’t worry. He got what he deserved and then some.”
“Oh please,” I swear I could see the devil horns rising out of her head, flaming pitchfork and all, “what you got out of him wasn’t nearly enough.”
‘Ah that’s just it. Thanks to your attorney, I’m set for life. Money. Medical care. Life insurance. I’m in a good spot. However, his floozie gave him more than just the gift of life.”
Intrigued, she eased back onto the vacant barstool. “Do tell.”
“Let’s just say, she gave him a couple of gifts that just keep on giving. He’ll be popping more pills than a hot Vegas hooker in July for the rest of his life. And he had to give up a lot more than me. No more sunny beach vacations. No more chocolate. And at the top of his trigger list,” I couldn’t help but enjoy this one. “Red meat. I’ve never been more thankful we’d stopped having sex when this sick thing started with me.”
“Damn.... Karma is a bitch.”
“A hormonal bitch in the peak of personal summer menopause.” We shared a much-needed laugh. A long coming one. Ashamed of my behavior my chin tilted down, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”
In typical Yaddi fashion she pulled me into a big girl hug that made the world right. “And I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I should have known something was up. I’m slipping.”
“Are you two done?”
I pulled out of Yaddi’s embrace catching Dwayne’s eye over my shoulder. He was still half dressed though the fresh scent of lavender wafted off his smooth, glistening skin. There went my lady parts again. Yaddi might be right. I might need to get laid.
“Not that it’s any of your business,” Yaddi replied, “but yes, we’re done. And I have a job for you, so run along and I’ll be there in a moment.”
Dwayne’s gaze never left mine as he dropped his plate in the sink and backed out of the kitchen with a swipe of his tongue over those luscious pink lips. I wouldn’t mind that tongue swiping over my lips, and not the ones still glistening with bacon grease.
When he broke the spell and turned to continue down the hall, his firm, sexy behind taunting me with each step. A hand sliding up my thigh pulled me back to Yaddi.
“You sure you don’t want to join us. Dwayne isn’t a tease. He means what his eyes were saying.”
I considered the offer, then remembered I was in no shape to take a romp in the hay with anyone at the moment, so I gracefully declined.
“Suit yourself,” she said regaining her feet. “We’ll try not to be too loud.”
I stopped her when she reached the hallway, “Um, one question.”
“Yes, ma’am?”
“Does he ever wear a shirt?”
“Now why would he do that?” When she’d reached the point where her back was to me, I’d watched her untie the flimsy strip of cloth failing to keep her robe semi-closed. Yaddi was never a fan of undergarments. “Actually, this modesty is all a show for you. We usually don’t wear any clothes at all. They tended to,” she stopped to consider her word choice, “get in the way.”
Her devilish laughter trickled down the hall as I grabbed my food and retreated downstairs.
Chapter Four
I danced from one foot to another silently rushing the microwave to finish the reheat cycle before the two above my head ventured down their tunnel of naughty. When it finally finished, I retrieved my plate, snatched my headphones from the couch and gathered my tablet on a mad dash out the doors onto the patio.
It was quiet out. The empty bird feeders swaying in the wind on the edges of the tree lines. Even at this hour the sweet aroma of bourbon BBQ wafted through the woods from the neighbor’s house.
“Noise canceling my ass,” I muttered as I turned the volume up on my headphones beyond what the manufacturer listed as the optimal level to ensure safety. It still wasn’t enough to drawn out Yaddi’s wails of pleasure, so I moved further into the woods finding a quiet spot by the lake.
To my surprise, the Wi-Fi reached out this far, I shoveled food into my mouth while making a grocery list then searching Groupon for an activity to get me out of the house. I wasn’t ready to begin the task of finding a place to live and I knew once this long weekend came to an end Yaddi would hop on a plane to her next destination for three to five days working with her clientele.
My daddy taught me well. Although I received a good chunk of change in my divorce with alimony covering me for the foreseeable future, shopping for discounts and deals was my specialty, both for the charities I once volunteered for and the side businesses I occasionally ran to pass the time. When I stumbled across a chocolate making class I jumped on the deal. And luckily for me they had an opening for their class tomorrow afternoon which left the rest of the day for shopping and pretending to unpack.
Yaddi joined me after her tryst, the sweet scent of her honeysuckle body spray reaching me on the gentle breeze before she plopped down in the chair a step from mine.
“I see you’re still walking. Is Dwayne slipping on his job?” I teased sliding the headphones off.
“Au contraire. I am quite sated. He’s a masseuse, remember. And those magic hands work wonders after play time. What are you up to?”
“Minding my business.” She rolled her eyes, her head bobbing in a dramatic fashion at my attempted humor. I continued when she held her tongue. “I need to make a grocery run.”
“Are you up for it? If you have a list, I can send Dwayne. Or better yet have it delivered.”
“I’m not an invalid. And living life while managing the pain has become my new normal. Besides, I feel like roaming around a store. Might find a sale or two to splurge on.”
Yaddi laid back in the chaise, her eyes drifting closed. “Don’t get sucked in by those clearance aisles.”
“And why not? I sold just about everything I owned. I need to start planning for my new place.”
“You don’t have to leave. Hell, I’m gone most of the time anyway. I don’t mind having you here. Sickness and all.”
“Sounds to me like you want to keep an eye on me.”
Silence hung between us, and I could see Yaddi struggling to decide what she wanted to tell me and what she wanted to keep close to her heart. “I miss my friend,” she finally admitted.
“I’ve missed you too.”
“And we’ve both been too pig headed to reach out to the other. Why are we so stupid?”
Yaddi and I started to see the world differently the last four or five years. A big part of that was the physical distance between us. The semi-north I called home in the Virginia and DC area was much different than the South. Not to mention Yaddi’s line of work, spending her days in corporations claiming they wanted to address lack of representation and diversity in their ranks but had done so poorly because they’d hired the least diverse teams to address the problem.
I could see her exhaustion, the beating the dead horse and repetition with each new venture. And yet her spark for the work continued. I no longer held the mental capacity for the fight, or at least not on the level she did. I’d had a mental break down the year before meeting my husband, the layering of micro-aggressions related to my very existence and the constant need to have my guard up because I was a woman and therefore a potential target for criminals or even a man having a bad day and not able to accept an ‘I’m not interested.’
We’d had the lessons growing up. You’re safer in crowds and yet those very crowds masked potential perpetrators. Always keep your keys in your hands the longest poking between two fingers so if you have to punch someone in the eye the key will strike. The years of hyper vigilance led to isolation until one day I was just over it all and considered leaving life behind.
“Not stupid,” I replied. “The response is purely reactive. A product of our childhood, of being told to be seen and not heard. It stifles the learning process of having a conversation to resolve issues.”
“You going all shrink on me?”
“Gotta put my Transpersonal Psychology degree to work sometimes.”
We shared a much-needed laugh, bringing up old times, the tension falling away. Just like old times.
“In all seriousness though,” Yaddi sat up, her attention squarely on me. “Are you going to tell me what I need to look out for with your new condition. I don’t want to hurt you again like I did earlier.”
I studied her expression, the twitch of her lips as she tried to maintain eye contact, “Why do I feel like you have an ulterior motive?”
“Because you know me so well. I promise its nothing bad. Just a potential friend who could occupy some of this free time you all of a sudden have.”
Chapter Five
“Chocolate people. Where is my white chocolate?” Ellis gathered the individual flourless tortes arranging them on the copper platter before dropping three fresh raspberries atop each. “White chocolate!” he bellowed once more beyond annoyed with the chaos in the kitchen. His voice boomed over the clacking of pots and pans as the waitstaff danced around the cooks collecting their dishes to save the others a few steps.
“Ellis?”
“What? I don’t have time for chit chat. Where! Is! My! Chocolate!” Ellis reached for the whipped chocolate mousse, folding it over a few times in the stainless-steel bowl with a spatula. This was the first time he was serving this version. He’d spent the last week perfecting the recipe to get the texture just right.
They’d been slammed all night. A wedding rehearsal party. Steady stream of club hoppers. Reservations out the wazoo. Ellis wasn’t complaining per se. Good business was good business especially in an industry where every dollar counted. Still, he needed a minute to breathe but right now he needed to get these desserts to the bride and groom to be.
“Ellis!”
Something crashed to the floor and an ominous silence descended upon the kitchen staff. As everyone stopped to gawk at the mess on the counter. It only lasted a second before the hustle and bustle resumed and a looming presence at his back drew Ellis’s attention.
“What do you need? I’m a little busy here.” Before he returned to his rampage, a double boiler filled with melted white chocolate appeared next to him. A thin brown arm with a red, white, and blue potholder released the handle and moved away.
“You’re needed out front.”
Frustrated, Ellis reached for the handle, nearly toppling the boiler when a searing pain raced up his fingers. “Dammit.” He snatched his hand away from the scalding handle, grabbing a dry dish rag to wrap around it before pouring the liquid into the funnel he held in his other hand to decorate the tortes. “What am I paying you for?”
“I wouldn’t be asking if it wasn’t important. Just come out here.” The man turned as Ellis escaped to the other side of the kitchen bobbing through the room to run cold water over his hand.
After allowing cold water to temporarily sooth his skin, Ellis removed his chef hat depositing it on the table at the door with the others and shimmying out of his coat to hang it on the empty hook. He exited the kitchen stopping at the edge of the bar to scan the crowd. The place was packed. Wall to wall tables filled with tipsy diners enjoying the special for the night. Italian lamb stew.
He leaned on the side of the bar, waiting for Yusef, the bartender to finish pouring a shot for a portly man with a scruffy beard and sleepy eyes. The man lounged against the wood-grained bar railing running his hands through thinning grey hair. After settling the man’s tab, Yusef gestured from Ellis to join him on that end of the bar.
“Now, what’s so important?”
“Don’t make a scene,” Yusef grumbled under his breath. “But look at table six. By the window.”
To not draw suspicion, Ellis busied his hands clearing empty glasses left by three women finally getting their table. He watched the tense exchange between a brown-skinned woman with a beautiful bouncy afro and a clean-cut well-dressed man who kept making advances the lady obviously found uncomfortable. She kept looking around, like she was plotting an escape plan.
“How long has that been going on?”
“Not sure. Charity brought it to my attention five minutes ago. She delayed their food in case you wanted to intervene.”
The woman reached for her water glass then snatched her hand away when the man attempted to grab it. She tucked it beneath the table fidgeting with the purse resting on her lap. There was something vaguely familiar about the woman, but Ellis couldn’t place it. And from this angle, he couldn’t see her face.
“Bathroom?” He finally said, anger flaring as he watched the man try again to reach for the woman, this time beneath the table.
Yusef waved their waitress, Charity, over.
“You see it too?” She said. Charity dropped a tray of empty glasses on the edge of the bar and Yusef excused himself to take care of a group at the other end of the bar.
“See if you can get her to the restroom.” Ellis said, growing more concerned by the minute. “Make sure she’s ok. Let her know if she’s uncomfortable we have a place for her, and we’ll make sure she’s safe.”
“Got it.”
Charity turned on her heel, making a beeline not for the table, but the hostess station. She made a few erratic moves, enough to draw the woman at the table’s attention. Charity did a little kid potty dance pointing toward the restroom and stayed in place as the woman excused herself from the table and headed toward the lady’s room.
Ellis watched the woman’s hips sway in the blue dress tapered at the waist and covered in sunflowers. She held her head high, her purse securely in her grasped as she wove through the tables towards the restroom. She physically relaxed the further from the table she got, more comfortable and confident now that there was space between her and her date. And there was that inkling again, it gnawed at Ellis’s psyche but refused to fully form.
He waited for Charity to join the woman before turning his attention back to the man at the table. Ellis burned the man’s face into his memory. The salt and pepper groomed goatee. The prominent nose, disproportionate to his other features like it may have been broken a time or two and the swelling never completely abated. And mole over the man’s left eye. If for some reason they needed to identify the woman’s date, Ellis was fairly sure he’d be able to pick the man in the striped button-down shirt, creased grey pants and soft brown loafers out in a line up.
“Keep me posted,” Ellis said as he returned to the kitchen.
STUPID. STUPID. STUPID. “Come on Yaddi. Answer the phone.” I dialed for the third time sure after the back-to-back calls she’d get the clue I needed to talk to her and answer the phone. And for the third time the answering service picked up. I hung up, less dramatic than old school. I do miss slamming the receiver down. Pressing an end button just didn’t have the same effect.
I knew better than to trust her judgment. She wanted one thing and that was to get me laid. But I could only be angry with myself. I’d walked into her widow’s web willing prey. Regardless of how much I reminded her of my disinterest in a roll in the hay to get over the situation with my ex, when Yaddi formed a plan, she stuck to it. I loved and hated her for it.
At least the restaurant staff gave me a reprieve. I’d definitely give this place a five-star rating. Besides the appetizers being absolutely delicious, identifying when patrons needed unconventional intervention was something I wasn’t accustomed to. Not that I’d frequented places or found myself in scenarios where I needed others to bail me out. The forethought necessary to consider the possibilities from a customer’s point of view and then have staff with enough ingenuity to pull off an exit strategy without making a scene, this is definitely the kind of establishment deserving of my patronage.
Charity’s assurance that I could take all the time I needed offered comfort after the stressful encounter and I appreciated the care she showed me.
The office she’d deposited me in was nice, the walls covered in pictures of a man I assumed was the Italian owner with patrons over the years. I recognized a handful of celebrities; their signatures scrawled across the snapshots in colorful script. It made me sad in a way. With new technology I wondered how long before the traditional of adding to the wall of images fell by the wayside either due to printing expense or lack of importance.
Not wanting to pry, I hunkered down in my seat, scrolling through my library app to find a book to read. After making my selection, I chose ambient music to play before losing myself in a little bit of smut while waiting on the night to pass me by.
THE LAST HOURS OF THE night passed quickly. When Ellis was satisfied, he had enough desserts prepared for the orders made and the few that might trickle in in the next thirty minutes, he took a leave of absence from the kitchen to get some air. Diving into work took his mind of the mysterious woman and the inkling that he’d crossed paths with her before. He hadn’t even taken a breather to check back with Charity to see if the woman had made it out ok. That actually bothered him, though he couldn’t figure out why.
It wasn’t like they didn’t have protocols for these scenarios. He and a few of the other business owners in this strip of converted houses put a process in place with their staff that if they saw something that looked suspicious to notify management. The bartenders tended to chat up single women coming in and if they found out the woman was there to meet a blind date, they’d slip them a card to order a specific drink or dessert to tip the waitstaff off that they needed help.
