After dinner, he begged off coffee and left to go back downtown to check out the interior space, which he’d only seen in photos. To avoid any possibility of being seen by Jasmine, he would park in the alley behind the building and enter through the back door.
On his way there, he thought about his family. How he wished he could tell them the real reason why they had to keep his secret.
That a woman he barely knew had made his heart race, and his body heat, and he was already worried.
About her. About him. About their future.
* * *
Jasmine splashed cold water on her face, hoping it would perk her up. She’d been on the clock for over fourteen hours. Her feet hurt, her clothes were sweaty and her mood was dark.
When she told her closest friends she was leaving New Orleans to work in her grandmother’s restaurant, she’d laughed when they told her she was making a mistake.
She wasn’t laughing now.
They were building successful careers in business, law and medicine, while she was building blisters between her toes.
She grabbed a paper towel and dried her hands. It was nights like these, of which there were many, that she questioned her decision, and others, like hanging up on Micah. Disappointment spiraled through her whenever she thought about not hearing from him again.
If he wants me, he’ll call again, she assured herself.
Exiting the restroom, she stopped by the kitchen to make sure Lucy wasn’t there. After closing out the dinner register, she’d asked her to go upstairs and relax, but her grandmother was always hesitant. She was woe to admit she wasn’t as spry as she used to be.
Jasmine understood how hard it must be to let go of something she’d been doing for so many years. Her grandmother never said anything outright, but Jasmine could tell by the worry in her eyes that she was concerned about the future of the bar and grille.
Donnie and Gloria called out their goodbyes. When they left, she shut off the lights, removed her apron and sank down into a chair.
With a yawn she didn’t bother to cover, she trailed her hand listlessly across the café curtains, parting them, and looked outside. Night had fallen. The parking spaces were empty, giving her a clear view of the empty building across Magnolia Avenue.
She’d seen no work being done, at least on the outside, but there was brown paper on the windows so the inside of the space was hidden from view. Lucy said that the entire building used to be a grocery store, so the space was huge, and they often speculated what type of business might move in.
“It better not be another restaurant,” she muttered, letting the curtain fall back into place.
Although if it was, she was the best person to meet the challenge to her grandmother’s business. Her work at the agency on marketing strategies to identify and circumvent competition was one of the high points of her life and she was pretty good at it. Maybe she’d end up doing more for her grandmother than pouring beers and learning to cook.
Maybe she’d actually help Lucy save her business.
Jasmine decided to take a walk and clear her head before going to bed. After locking the front door, she glanced across the street and her breath caught in her throat.
A light swiveled inside the building, a muted glow like a flashlight under a sheet, intermittently and at different parts of the otherwise dark space. Before she knew what was happening, her feet began to move and she crossed Magnolia Avenue. Cupping her hands against the window glass, she peered in, not really expecting to see anything, and didn’t.
“What’s up, Jazzy?”
Jasmine spun on her sneakers, nostrils flaring, and was surprised to see Micah. She’d been so focused on trying to see the source of the light that she didn’t even see him approach.
“W-what are you doing here?”
She couldn’t stand it when folks called her “Jazzy” or worse, “Jaz,” and thought it was a form of subtle disrespect. But out of Micah’s mouth, it sounded sensual, like the flower for which she was named.
She looked left and right, disoriented to see him now, and so soon. The old-fashioned streetlights cast a yellowish glow on the sidewalk.
“Where did you come from?”
“My parents’ beach house. After dinner, I decided to come back downtown and see if I can get into any trouble.”
His eyes slid from her face all the way down her body, leaving jet-spurts of intense warmth she wanted to feel again.
She stepped closer, hand on her hip, wishing she’d changed out of her work clothes. He hadn’t changed his outfit either and she almost burst out laughing when she realized they were both undressing each other with their eyes.
“What did you have in mind?”
“A ride.” Her eyebrows shot up, until he thumbed backward. “On the Bay Point Carousel.”
“Oh,” she said, exhaling a slow breath.
“I detect a tone of disappointment, Miss Kennedy.”
“Not at all. The Carousel is fun.”
But not as much fun as riding on you would be, she thought, holding back a smile.
“Too bad it’s already shut down for the night. Last ride is at eight thirty.”
“Let’s go for a stroll anyway. I have a feeling that we both need to clear our heads.”
He crooked his right arm at the elbow. “Shall we?”
Jasmine ignored the gesture and walked away, knowing that if he touched her, she would find him even more difficult to resist. She told herself that the only reason she was heading east, and not going back across the street where she belonged, was because she was going to take a walk anyway.
“If you won’t take my arm, will you at least take my advice?” he asked, catching up to her.
Jasmine shrugged. “Depends on what it is.”
“Don’t go peering into windows that are papered over. Chances are the owner doesn’t want you to see what’s in there.”
She stopped in her tracks and stared up at him. “I was closing up the restaurant and thought I saw a light being waved around.”
At his skeptical look, she paused. “At least I think I did.”
“While you’re snooping, someone else is dialing nine-one-one.”
“I wasn’t snooping,” she insisted, poking him lightly in the chest. “Just like you didn’t lose your pen.”
He grinned. “The point goes to you. All I meant was that I would hate to have to bail you out of jail.”
“You could call in a favor with the mayor.”
“I could, if I knew you better.”
“Is that why you came back tonight, and why you called to bug me earlier today?”
“What do you think?”
“I don’t know. You just got home today. Any particular reason why you are back in town?”
“Just to relax and see my family.” He shrugged.
Jasmine folded her arms. “And you want to get away from them so soon?”
“Do you want to be around your family twenty-four-seven?”
“My folks don’t live on a palatial estate on the beach,” she tossed back in a breezy tone.
“Where are they? Back in New Orleans, I presume?”
She nodded. “My mother is but by dad lives in Baton Rouge. They divorced when I was twelve.”
As far as Jasmine was concerned, her grandmother was the only family she had right now.
He led her by the elbow to a bench near the carousel.
“I’d like to know more about you and Lucy.”
She glanced down Magnolia Avenue toward the restaurant.
“Why? The only thing you need to know is that she relies on me, so I better get back.”
He captured her hand, his touch gentle, but insistent.
“Stay with me a minute. Please?”
She paused for a moment, before sitting down.
>
“How do you like living in Bay Point so far?” he asked. “Complete opposite of New Orleans?”
She leaned back against the bench and nodded. “It’s small, quiet at night, maybe too quiet. I like the people for the most part. I like running on the beach, and the breezes that smell of salt and sand. I feel safe here.”
“Did something happen back in New Orleans?”
She swallowed hard, and wondered what he would think if she told him about her former boss.
“No, I just meant that there’s not a lot of crime here. I guess because it’s so small. I worry what will happen as the town continues to grow.”
“The police force will grow with it,” he said. “I know that Gregory is committed to continuing to bring new commerce into the town and more residents, but he’s also focused on keeping everyone safe, too.”
“That’s good to know. I heard he doesn’t want Bay Point to become a roadside tourist trap either.”
“I agree with him.” Micah crossed his legs at the ankles. “We’re close enough to the Pacific Coast Highway to be easily accessible, but not so close to have any drive-through restaurants. If people want to eat here, they have to park and get out of their cars.”
“Yes, people do tend to shop or check out the rest of the town, either before or after they eat.”
As the minutes passed, their conversation remained on the town. Micah, who claimed to be a local history buff, relayed some little-known stories that Jasmine found amusing, but far-fetched. She had a feeling that it would be easy for them to converse back and forth for hours on end.
“Tell me something. Why go through the trouble of getting to know me when you’re only just visiting for a few days?” she posed.
“That doesn’t mean we have to be strangers, does it?”
“I suppose we can start out as casual acquaintances,” Jasmine replied, giving in a little because she wanted to continue to see him.
“I don’t have a problem with that, if you promise to have dinner with me before I go.”
She pursed her lips. “I’m not sure I can spare the time. I work at the restaurant pretty much from sunup to sundown.”
“Doesn’t Lucy ever give you a break?”
“She’s the one who works too hard,” Jasmine said in her grandmother’s defense.
“Then I’ll just have to charm her into giving you a night off.”
“Ha! Give it a try, but she’s no fool, Micah. She told me all the Langston men were flirts.”
“And do you believe her?”
Jasmine folded her arms. “I’m still waiting for you to prove her right.”
Micah grinned. “Are you challenging me?”
“What do you think?”
He gave her a wide grin. “I think I like you. You’re beautiful, funny and—”
“Leaving,” she interrupted and stood, heart hammering in her chest.
Micah frowned. “Why so soon?”
“I’ve been away too long. I better go see if Lucy is okay.”
Living with her grandmother was a little like living with her parents, no privacy until after they were asleep. She couldn’t wait until she could get her own place.
“I’ll go with you.”
“No, I’d rather be alone right now. See you later.”
Jasmine walked away, feeling his eyes on her back. It took everything in her power to keep on going. When she got to the restaurant, she turned around and the park bench was empty.
* * *
Micah circled around City Hall, before heading back to the alley. Back in his car, he breathed a sigh of relief.
“That was too close,” he muttered and realized that keeping his restaurant a secret was going to be very stressful.
After he’d emerged from the alley next to Vanessa’s flower shop, which was seven stores down from his space, and saw Jasmine trying to peek into the windows, he’d hesitated even approaching her. But he had to find out what she’d seen, or even better, what she’d been doing.
She’d taken him totally by surprise.
Although she’d claimed she was only taking a walk, Micah was afraid that she’d already caught the “snooping bug,” which many residents seemed to have in spades. They were intelligent, inquisitive and never could seem to find the time to mind their own business.
Maisie Barnell, owner of the only bed-and-breakfast establishment in town, was known as the eyes and ears of Bay Point, but she did it because she cared about its people.
Micah twisted his lips, realizing that tonight at least, he was being somewhat of a snoop himself. At first, his whole point of inviting her to the carousel park was to distract her. He wanted to talk to her enough to make her forget whatever she saw even if it was only the light from his phone.
Later, as they began to talk, he wanted to learn more about her. When she talked about New Orleans, her tone sounded nostalgic, but he also caught a hint of fear when he asked if something bad had happened to her.
When she denied it, he sensed she was lying. Out of respect, he didn’t question her further, but he’d felt a surge of tenderness for her, wanting her to feel safe, no matter where she happened to be. Hoping that she felt at ease with him.
He felt confident she didn’t suspect him as the “intruder” or that she even saw anything at all. Still, he decided that he would call the contractor and have him triple the paper on the windows. He wasn’t going to take any chances of anyone in Bay Point finding out that he was part owner of the space.
He wanted to see Jasmine again. Not to cover his tracks, but to really get to know her this time. She’d been glib about his dinner invite, even though he was serious.
He knew firsthand that working in the restaurant business left very little time for a real relationship. Closing his eyes, he recalled hot and heavy trysts in supply closets, vacant hotel rooms in-between guest check-ins, even alleys like the ones behind his restaurant.
That’s not what he wanted with Jasmine.
He was eager to get back to his parents’ house and be alone in his room. He wanted to think about Jasmine, the glow of her skin under the streetlamps, and how the light cast shadows in the swell of her cleavage.
There was something about Jasmine that made him think she could be the woman who could finally make him set down roots, though not necessarily in Bay Point. He wanted her badly, but he had to move slowly. With so much at stake for both of them, he wasn’t sure it would be fair to take the chance, no matter where it would lead.
Chapter 3
Jasmine flipped the closed sign on the front door. Today was the annual Bay Point Bake-off, and apparently, it was a really big deal. For over thirty years, the event had been held at Bay Point Baptist Church. This year, the committee decided to move to Carousel Park, hoping the centralized location would help boost attendance.
Lucy had participated with one of her recipes for many years, but had never won anything except honorable mentions. She’d also been a judge. Several days ago, she’d fallen ill with a bad cold, and was too sick to work, let alone go anywhere outside of the apartment.
The bake-off had to be important for Lucy to close the restaurant early. Jasmine had told her grandmother that she could help Gloria cook, so they could remain open, instead of attending the bake-off. The event had been publicized on social media, and they were expecting a large crowd downtown.
But Lucy had refused, telling her that they all needed a break. Even though she knew she would be losing out on tourist dollars that day, she felt it was important that the restaurant was represented, not only in the bake-off, but also in the bake sale that took place immediately afterward. All proceeds from both events were donated to charity.
On her first night in town, Jasmine was looking for a blanket in Lucy’s linen closet and found an old wooden cigar box in the back. She’d taken it back to her room, ope
ned it and spent a few hours perusing the contents, which was a collection of recipes, while her grandmother slept.
In the morning, Lucy told her that they belonged to her mother, Melba Louise Kennedy, Jasmine’s great-grandmother. Jasmine was surprised to learn that Lucy’s famous jerk chicken recipe was passed down to her from Melba, but not in written form.
Lucy encouraged her to try making some of her great-grandmother’s recipes.At first, Jasmine balked at her suggestion. She was having enough difficulty trying to learn how to cook Lucy’s recipes.
She gave in when Lucy said that maybe they could add one or more to the restaurant menu. She knew it was important for a restaurant to change things up every once in a while, with new appetizers, entrees, sides or desserts. None of the recipes in the box had been made in years, and Jasmine was hopeful that one of them would be able to lift Lucy’s Bar and Grille from relative obscurity among tourists to must-visit status.
In preparation for the bake-off, she’d spent weeks after-hours baking a variety of New Orleans treats, from beignets to croissants to madeleines before settling on her great-grandmother Melba’s pie recipe.
Jasmine placed her entry, a triple berry crumb crust pie carefully in a white box. She’d baked a second pie for the sale and boxed that one up, too. Then she tied a red ribbon on top of both. When she was finished, she took a step back and smiled with satisfaction. Out of everything she’d baked recently, the pies were her favorite and she was looking forward to making more.
She heard the creak of old floorboards, and glanced up at the ceiling. Lucy’s bedroom was directly over the kitchen. Jasmine knew that Lucy drew strength from all the wonderful smells that managed to creep into the apartment from below.
Her grandmother was in relatively good health, but standing on her feet from dusk to dawn for so many years had taken its toll. She tired easily and had lower back issues that could require surgery if the condition worsened. Thick-soled orthopedic shoes helped, but only for a few hours and then she had to go upstairs and rest.
She wished they could hire another cook to help Gloria, but Lucy said she didn’t have the money to hire new workers. Plus, many of the locals were attracted to the newer restaurants coming to town that often promised higher wages, tips and better health benefits.
Winning Her Heart Page 4
