by Dani Wade
“Indeed,” Francis agreed. “Jasmine had known Rosie’s mother for several years. One thing you learn very quickly here—you can’t force your own beliefs or preferences on those who aren’t as fortunate. You can only offer them whatever you have. Some are on the streets because life has given them no other choices. Some are there because it is safer or more comfortable for them than the places they left behind.”
“Was she very young?” Royce asked.
“Twenty-six when she died.”
Royce couldn’t bring himself to ask the obvious question.
“She confided in Jasmine one night. She wanted so badly to have the child, but knew her health wasn’t all it should be. It took her a lot of courage to go to the doctor. By then, the cancer was too far advanced for treatment, even if they could have done anything while she was pregnant. When Jasmine offered to take her in, she agreed with great reluctance. She’d been on the streets so long, but she knew she had to overcome her fears for her baby to live.”
“So she lived with Jasmine’s family before the birth?”
“And after,” Francis confirmed. “Her health declined rapidly. But she was smart enough to make sure Rosie wouldn’t end up on the streets. They’d barely finished the adoption process before she died.”
Jasmine glanced their way. Her smile here had a different, softer quality. Instead of the take-charge woman he’d butted heads with, in this environment, her leadership abilities seemed to be subdued under a layer of compassion.
Francis cleared his throat, reengaging Royce’s attention. “All that to say, Jasmine has volunteered here for years, but she’s also changed her entire life to take care of someone in need. There’s no doubt she loves Rosie. Her entire family loves her. But it was, and is, a huge sacrifice in one so young.”
“Why are you telling me this?” Royce asked. After all, this was technically a business meeting.
Francis studied him for a long moment, a slight smile on his face. “Call it intuition or the prompting of the Spirit, but something tells me you need to know. Even if Jasmine is just your event planner.”
Why did that last statement sound more like a question to Royce? And why was he trying to fool himself into thinking he wasn’t interested?
“What about the children here?” Royce asked, eager to change the subject. He thought back to the boys in the gym. He hadn’t failed to notice the worn lettering on their clothes and thinness of the soles on their shoes—and remembered the years that his own clothes had looked the same. “Is there anything special they need?”
“Right now, just the usual things that they always need. We have families who fund scholarships for some of our regulars in the after-school programs for disadvantaged families. Those scholarships and donors are coordinated by the Jefferson family from Savannah.”
The Jeffersons. Instead of filing that detail away to use to his own advantage, Royce felt gratitude wash over him. They were doing so much for these kids. How much of a difference would it have made to him, to his mother, if he’d had the opportunity to participate in an after-school program like they offered here?
“We do have some other special programs we would love funding for, but I don’t want to appear greedy.”
Royce waved away his words. “It’s not greedy when I asked. I’ll have my assistant contact you for more information, okay?”
Francis nodded. “Thank you again.”
“It’s my pleasure.” And Royce had a feeling he was going to have to admit to Jasmine that he’d changed his point of view. He wanted to be more involved in this charity event now. That had probably been her whole point in bringing him here: educating him for far more than just being able to talk knowledgably about his event’s charity.
She’d done a thorough job of it, too.
Sure enough, they’d barely made it to the sidewalk in front of the cars when she paused and said, “Not as bad as you thought, was it?”
He turned to face her where she leaned against the moss-covered retaining wall. “You enjoy being right, don’t you.”
“Only with you.” She grinned, her sassy joy drawing him out of his shell and into the sheer life she exuded. He found he was beginning to like her energy and enthusiasm—very much.
He shook his head, knowing he was going crazy. But for once, he didn’t care about losing control. “You’re incredible, you know?”
“Not really.”
Royce leaned in close, propping one hand against the wall next to her glossy black hair. He swallowed hard against the emotions welling up despite himself. “To prove to my father that my life was worth something, I pursued wealth that would far surpass his.”
For the first time, he let himself reach over and touch her thick hair. “To prove that life was still worth living after your parents died, you dedicated yourself to your family and taking care of others.”
He stepped closer, bringing their bodies together even though he knew he shouldn’t. “In the eyes of most people, that’s incredible. Especially me.”
Then Royce let his logical brain take a hike and brought his lips down on hers. Her taste was just as exotic as her name. Royce’s craving shifted into overdrive.
If he’d thought it would just be a quick peck, he was mistaken. Instead, his body pressed closer. His mouth opened over hers. Her lips left a slightly sweet taste on his tongue, but it was the heat inside that he sought.
The catch of her breath sent a streak of sensation through him. He wanted to explore all the ways he could make her react. All the hidden places on her body that would make her gasp and moan. But for now, he focused on the heat of her mouth and the sexiness of her response.
After long, exquisite moments, Royce forced himself to pull back. To regain control. To think about Jasmine instead of his own sorry self.
Which meant he couldn’t bring himself to look into those gorgeous blue eyes to see exactly how he’d ruined everything.
Ten
How 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 h
er 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.”
