What Love Tastes Like

by Zuri Day

  Nick hugged Angelica briefly, as a father would a daughter. “Good-bye, Angelica.”

  “Good-bye, Nick.” She sat back down in her chair and watched the man she used to love walk out of the bar area. He’d loved her, too, once, she remembered, so very thoroughly. But now he’s with another woman. And I don’t like it. Angelica ordered another martini, requested the bar menu, and plotted her next move in using Keith Bronson to help ruin Nick Rollins. Nobody broke Angelica King’s heart and got away with it. Angelica’s eye twitched as she sipped her second martini. Nobody.

  31

  Tiffany worked at a furious pace. She thought things would let up after the holidays, but the restaurant remained full with a month-long waiting list. Tiffany readjusted the scarf tied around her lengthening tresses and concentrated on an original scallop dish. She’d expanded the menu selection from Chef Riatoli’s asparagus delight and created several of her own. Today she was fixing a bacon-wrapped concoction cooked in a coconut oil/tamari/agave blend and seasoned with fresh ginger, lemongrass, white pepper, and a hint of saffron. A dozen at a time were then placed on large square platters sporting an oriental-inspired symbol drawn with some of the pan drippings and offered free by handsome, white-coated waiters to waiting diners in the bar area as an amuse-bouche. The idea of offering this bite-sized hors d’oeuvre to reservation holders having drinks in the bar had been Tiffany’s idea, and was a huge success. Patrons had written letters praising the classy move, and Nick was impressed and pleased. After showing one such correspondence to Tiffany, Chef Wang had given her a curt head nod and uttered a single word—“good.” Tiffany had almost fallen over at the rare verbal praise.

  “How’s that steak working?” Tiffany asked Roger.

  “Coming up, Chef!” Roger responded. Chef Wang was taking his first days off in the form of a three-day vacation, leaving Tiffany in charge of the kitchen for the first time. Any anxiety she’d felt about this responsibility had been quickly relieved as the workers treated her with the same respect and deference they would have given Chef Wang. He’d picked a dedicated, top-notch team. In a world that often had a high rate of turnover, not one kitchen or wait-staff employee had left. This restaurant was a plum place to work, and everyone knew it.

  “Farah, we need to finish that risotto.”

  “It’s ready, Chef.”

  Tiffany finished the last of the scallops and moved over to lift a lobster claw from its boiling confines. She placed it on a plate, removed the meat, and filled the bottom of the shell with the creamy risotto. After replacing the meat, she drizzled it with a citrus-infused butter, another of her creations. She decorated the plate with fried sage leaves and placed it steaming on the counter. “Order up! Serve it quickly!”

  “Yes, Chef!”

  Tiffany went right to work on the next dish, dreaming about the trip to Italy that she and Nick were going to take at the end of January—two weeks away.

  “Chef.” Amber walked into the kitchen, careful of the handles, knives, and other potentially dangerous utensils scattered about. She knew how quickly the team worked in back; one had to keep their wits about them.

  “Your father’s here.”

  Dad? What’s he doing here? Then Tiffany remembered the phone call she’d gotten right before her shift started. She recognized his number and had made a mental note to call him back first chance she got. She was still waiting on that chance. Unfortunately, her father had come at the height of the dinner hour. Talking to him would have to wait.

  “Tell him it’s pretty busy right now,” Tiffany panted, checking on a delicate white sauce with one hand while she fished buckwheat penne rigate from a pot with her other one. She threw a handful of large prawns and fresh herbs into the pot and gave the mix another stir. She then plated the pasta, covered it with the sauce, and sprinkled the entire dish with freshly shaved parmesan reggiano, pearl onions, and capers. “Order up!”

  Amber checked on other tables as she made her way back to Tiffany’s father. After delivering his daughter’s message, she asked if they were ready to order.

  “What will you have, Angelica?”

  Angelica looked at Amber. “What do you recommend?”

  “Well, everything Tiffany cooks is amazing, but the salmon, scallop, and lobster dishes are the most popular. Oh, and her filet mignon dish is to die for—that gets ordered a lot as well.”

  After placing their orders, Keith and Angelica settled back and awaited the first course. He’d never admit it, but after vowing to not get serious ever again, he was falling hard and fast for this woman. Finally, he’d found someone who was everything he wanted: beautiful, independent, driven, and smart. And in bed…he’d never been with someone whose sexual appetite was so voracious. She could run rings around Sasha, even though she was five years older than his soon to be ex. He’d had to stock his shelves with Viagra just so he could keep up!

  Angelica smiled at Keith. She slid off her sandal and discreetly ran her foot up his leg. In the two months since they’d been dating, things had progressed brilliantly, just the way she wanted. She’d had no such notion when she first put the plan in motion, but now she wouldn’t be surprised if summer came with a marriage proposal. She’d already spent considerable time in his posh condominium on Lake Michigan Avenue, in the same building as the one Oprah owned. And he’d started saying “we” when referencing his future—a very good sign. Keith was brilliant, as smart as Nick, in her opinion. She had no doubt he’d give Nick a run for his money, and if she had anything to say about it, beat him to China. Angelica could hardly wait for Nick’s reaction when he saw her on his primary competition’s arm. But in the meantime, she’d have to settle for Tiffany’s reaction when she found out her man’s ex was now screwing her father.

  Angelica’s eyes shined at the deliciousness of fate. What were the chances that the man who will help me bring Nick down is also the father of the bitch who replaced me in Nick’s bed and heart? The gods could not have been kinder, Angelica had thought, when during a recent conversation Keith had mentioned why he so wanted to visit Taste—because his daughter, Tiffany, worked there. Angelica had phoned Nick immediately, told him of her lover’s impending visit, and asked if she’d be welcome at Taste. Nick had phoned her back that evening with the go ahead, and had again wished her well with the new relationship. Ha! Thanks for the well wishes, Nicky baby. Although after you find out I’m screwing the competition who just happens to be your woman’s daddy, you might take back your blessings and I might get barred again!

  Angelica slid down a bit in her seat and placed her foot squarely on Keith’s inner thigh.

  Keith reached down and captured Angelica’s bare foot. “All right, baby girl. Don’t start nothing, won’t be nothing.”

  Angelica moved her leg higher, placed it near his crotch. “I think I’ve already got something started.” She began to massage him with her toes.

  Keith shifted himself away from her. “Behave, Angelica.” But his smile belied the gruffness in his tone. This girl turned him on something fierce!

  Forty-five minutes later, they had finished their third course and were waiting on the main course when Keith’s phone rang. His eyes widened and a big grin broke out on his face as he listened to the caller on the other end. After a few brief comments, he hung up the phone.

  “Baby, we have to leave, now.”

  “Why, Keith, what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong,” Keith said, signaling for Amber. “Everything is getting ready to be more than right. That was the president of J.P. Morgan. We’ve just been invited to his house, for an impromptu dinner. He has some people he wants us to meet.”

  Angelica’s initial disappointment was replaced with excitement. She loved to move among society’s movers and shakers, and even more, this invite could have something to do with the China project. “Whatever you say, darling,” Angelica purred, taking her compact from her purse and refreshing her lipstick. There would be another day to surprise Miss Tiff
any. Angelica knew that moment would be well worth the wait.

  After waiting another minute for Amber, who was busy at another table, Keith took out four crisp one-hundred-dollar bills and placed them on the table. “That should cover the cost of the meal and leave a generous tip.” His daughter, and the main course she was preparing for him, never crossed his mind. “She’ll see it when she comes back here,” he said, referring to Amber. “Ryan’s in Pacific Palisades. Let’s go.”

  Tiffany carefully cut the tenderloin her father had ordered. It was a juicy medium rare, the mustard, avocado, and panko crumb coating perfectly done. She smiled as she plated the cut, topping it with cold organic avocados and slices of purple, yellow, and red heirloom tomatoes. This would be served with a potato, turnip, and parsnip medley, paired with sautéed green beans.

  At the same time, Roger was plating for the person dining with her father, a glamour gal, was how Amber had described her. Tiffany had thought it interesting that her father had brought a date. Tiffany had met only a handful of her dad’s many women. Most of those meetings had been memorable—and not in a good way. But her father was changing the way he lived his life. Maybe he was changing the type of woman he dated, which meant maybe this woman was closer to his own age. Tiffany smiled, actually looking forward to meeting this woman and visiting with her father. They talked almost weekly now. How their relationship had grown in this short time was nothing short of miraculous.

  “You ready, Roger?”

  “Yes, Chef.”

  Tiffany picked up her father’s dishes and headed to the door. She’d told Amber she’d deliver their order personally. She wanted to see her father’s reaction when he tasted her food. She’d just started down the short hallway into the dining room when Amber came around the corner. She was not smiling.

  “I don’t know what happened, Tiffany, but your father’s gone.”

  32

  Tiffany slowly took off her soiled apron and placed it in the laundry bin. She was thankful that the dinner crowd had kept her busy—the steady stream of customers hadn’t abated until well after ten o’clock. But now, as she walked to her car, the thoughts that she’d held at bay came back full force.

  She pulled out her cell phone, put on her headset, and navigated out of the parking lot. Before listening to messages she called Nick and got voicemail.

  “Hey, baby, it’s me. I just got off, was going to stop by. My dad came to the restaurant but left before I could see him. I wish you were there, Nick. I need you.”

  She ended the call and punched the Message button. She had four new messages. The first was the earlier call she’d seen from her father.

  “Hey, Tiffany, it’s your dad. I’m in town, but not for long, maybe only a day. Would love to see you, maybe even stop by your restaurant. Give me a call when you get this message. Good-bye.”

  The second call was from Joy, the third from Grand.

  The last call was another message from her dad: “Hey, Tiffany. I was at the restaurant, but you know that. I hate that I had to leave without seeing you, but I got an urgent call from a business partner. A very big deal, baby, and a crucial meeting. We’re headed over to his house for dinner right now. If my calendar will allow it, I’ll stay an extra day to see you. If not, I should be back in a couple weeks. Oh, I had one of your taster scallops. Something about being amused?” Tiffany could hear a woman’s laughter in the background. “Anyway, it was delicious, baby. All the food I ate tonight was outta sight. If you cooked that food, baby girl, you’re a first-rate chef. I love you.”

  Tiffany played the message again, and a third time. On the one hand, the message disappointed her. It was her dad being his old self, putting business first. This had been the way they’d rolled from the time she was born. She thought that with their reestablished connection, his actions would be different. But she’d thought wrong. With her dad, business would always come first.

  Which brought her thoughts to Nick, who also gave business first priority. Yes, he was loving, kind, and attentive, but he was also a driven man who thrived when doing what he loved—making deals and making money. Lately, his schedule had been busier than ever, some new project he and the partner she’d met, Bastion Price, were working on. He’d been out of town most of the new year and when he wasn’t, was closeted away in one meeting or the other. She’d only seen him once since they’d brought in the new year together. Tiffany had been too busy to notice she missed him, until now.

  Tiffany pushed the Message button, going through the messages until she reached the last one, from her father. She smiled when his message neared the end. If she could, she’d put that last part on a loop and play it over and over again. Because she couldn’t be certain, but she thought she was in high school when she’d last heard her father say those three magic words.

  “Dad,” she said softly to the wind around her, “I love you, too.”

  33

  It was another rare day off. Tiffany had been working so much that she barely knew what to do with all the free time. There were errands to run and bills to pay, but after an hour online, she’d decided there were better things to do. Which was why she was ringing Joy’s doorbell and sipping a vanilla latte from Starbucks.

  “Hi, Tiffany,” Deuce said when he opened the door.

  “Hey, Deuce. Where’s your mother?”

  “Where she always is…on the couch.”

  “I heard that,” Joy yelled out.

  “Reading,” Deuce whispered, with a frown.

  Tiffany laughed. “You don’t like to read?”

  Deuce shook his head vigorously.

  “You’ve got to read to get good grades, right?”

  Deuce shrugged.

  “Of course you do. What’s your favorite subject?”

  “Recess!” Deuce quickly shouted, and then dodged past Tiffany and ran outside.

  “Your son’s a mess,” Tiffany said, laughing as she walked into the living room. “But he’s right about one thing. You’ve always got your head in a book.”

  “You know this is my guilty pleasure. But I guess it is pretty bad when you have to get your excitement from a book.”

  “What are you reading now?”

  “I’m re-reading all of E. Lynn Harris’s books. Man, he was one of my favorite authors. Even after all this time, it’s hard to believe that he’s gone. A part of me is still waiting for his next novel to come out.” Joy reached for the crumpled lottery ticket that doubled as a bookmark, marked her place and closed the book. “Okay, girl, tell me what’s up.”

  “It’s nothing really, same old, same old.” Tiffany crossed over to the well-worn couch, stepping over toys and clothes and gossip magazines. Joy would never win the award for housekeeping, but she might nab one for most read books.

  “Well, tell me about same old, same old. You want some chips and dip?”

  Tiffany followed Joy into the kitchen and told her about Nick’s ramped-up meetings and business travel, her own crazy schedule, and her dad’s visit to the restaurant, ending with his untimely departure.

  “Damn, that’s jacked up.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “But at least he called you and told you what happened.”

  “But I had cooked this amazing dish for him and he just up and left without a second thought.”

  “His phone call is proof he thought about you, Tiff. Don’t beat yourself up over it, girl. What’s done is done.”

  “Yeah, I know you’re right.”

  “Have y’all talked since then?”

  “Yeah, he wants me to visit him in Chicago. Can you imagine? I haven’t been to a home my father’s owned since college.”

  “I haven’t been to my daddy’s house in my life, never even seen my sperm donor. For all I know, he could be Dr. Huxtable. So don’t think you’ve got the market cornered on colored-girl stories, okay?”

  After spending an hour at Joy’s house, Tiffany left and headed for Grand’s. She started to call her, and then
decided to just drop by—like her Grand said they used to do back in the day. Nick was out of town once again, and she didn’t feel like going home, with only Tuffy for company. She pulled up just in time to see her grandmother closing and locking her front door. She was wearing some cute capri jeans, an oversize top, and sandals. She was carrying a large tote bag in one hand and a bottle of water in the other.

  “Hey, Grand.”

  “Hi, Tiffany. Girl, what are you doing over this way?”

  “I thought I was coming to see you.” The two ladies met and hugged in the middle of the sidewalk.

  “Come on, you can go with me.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “You said you came to see me, so does it matter?”

  “I guess not.”

  She got into her grandmother’s Mercury and fastened her seat belt. “I know how wild you drive,” she teased as Grand slowly backed out of the driveway. They rode down Crenshaw, sharing small talk. Her grandmother passed the Baldwin Hills Crenshaw Shopping Plaza, turned left onto MLK Boulevard, and turned into a parking lot just before reaching La Brea.

  Tiffany put a hand to her head as realization dawned. “Oh, Grand, please tell me that this is not your bingo spot.”

  Grand chuckled. “Okay, so I won’t tell you.”

  “Grand, this isn’t funny. I’m not trying to spend my night around a bunch of old folk. Nothing personal, Grand, but…c’mon now!”

  “No, you come on. Mess around with you and all the good seats will be gone!”

  Tiffany had never played bingo in her life, but by the time the second half of the evening came around, she was acting like an old pro. She’d increased the two cards she’d started with initially to six, and—like her grandmother—was a dobbing fool. But when it came to cards, Tiffany couldn’t believe how her Grand held it down. Not only did she mark her own ten cards, but she leaned over and caught numbers Tiffany had missed as well.