What Love Tastes Like

by Zuri Day

  “Tiffany’s a beautiful woman, and I feel I hardly know her.” Keith sighed, turned back to the ocean view. His eyes became misty, and Keith never cried. So much time has been lost…years I can never get back.

  “She’s a lot like you,” Nick finally said.

  “Hmph. That’s been part of the problem—we’re both stubborn and want to live life on our own terms. So,” Keith clasped his hands together, his voice changing from one of nostalgia to being all business, “that’s why I’m here. I’ve already talked to my team and told them that I’m pulling out to focus on other ventures. And, because I know your success involves Tiffany, I’ll pass on any information that might help you close this deal.”

  Nick stood then, and walked toward Keith. Nick was taller, but Keith had bulk. Both were studies in strength and resolution. “You’re a good man, Keith Bronson,” Nick said when he reached him. He reached out his hand and the two performed a soul brothers’ handshake. “Tiffany will be ecstatic when I share this news.”

  “Yeah, eyes on the money, just like her daddy.”

  “No, Keith, her eyes are on you. She’ll be happy because you put her first.”

  63

  Tiffany didn’t know she’d dozed off to sleep until the phone rang. “Hey, Joy.”

  “Hey, girl. How are you feeling?”

  Tiffany struggled to a sitting position and yawned. “A little better, I think.”

  “I can still come over there if you want me to.”

  “Thanks, sistah, but I’m okay.”

  “Have you tried eating anything yet?”

  “No. I’ll try and drink some juice after I wash my face and brush my teeth. Nick said he’d come home early to take care of me.”

  “And to think you almost quit working for that man. You’d better be glad I—” Joy clamped a hand over her mouth.

  Tiffany rolled out of bed. “I’d better be glad you what?”

  Dangit! She’d never told Tiffany about the phone call she’d made to Nick and the advice she’d given that led to Tiffany rescinding her resignation. “Oh, uh, never mind.”

  “Never mind, my behind. What did you do, Joy?” Tiffany walked into the master bath, put the phone on speaker, and began washing her face.

  “I, uh, look. Don’t get mad at what I’m about to say. It’s because of me you’re living a fairy tale.”

  Tiffany put toothpaste on her brush. “I’m listening.”

  “I called Nick that week you resigned, after he canceled your vacation plans and flew to New York. I knew that you were just being your usually stubborn self, and since you wouldn’t listen to me, I called to see if Nick would.”

  Tiffany stopped brushing her teeth. “And?” she asked around a mouthful of toothpaste.

  “And I told him how you didn’t like to be told what you couldn’t do and if he actually agreed that you weren’t cut out for a five-star restaurant, they’d probably have to pry your fingernails away from the stove.”

  “You heifah! Wait a minute.” Tiffany quickly rinsed her mouth, wiped off the excess water with a towel, and picked up the phone. She knew exactly the conversation Joy was talking about, when Nick had questioned her abilities to be a top-shelf chef. She’d been livid, and at that moment became more determined than ever to succeed. Tiffany forgot all about being sick. She stomped into the kitchen and snatched open the refrigerator. “Nick didn’t mean those things he said? He spouted that B.S. because you told him to?”

  “Worked, didn’t it?”

  “What is it with everybody interfering in my life? First Grand,” Tiffany said, remembering Grand’s message that she’d spoken to Tiffany’s father. “And now you!” Tiffany poured a glass of Perrier, hoping the carbonation would help her stomach’s queasiness.

  “People butt into your business because they love you, Tiffany. Your grandmother does, and so do I. We want to see you happy, and I’d never seen you happier than when Nick Rollins walked into your life. So,” Joy continued when Tiffany remained silent, “you can thank me now, or later.”

  Tiffany finished drinking her water. “Thank you,” she said, then belched.

  “Ooh, that’s foul. I’m getting off this phone.”

  “Yeah, but it made me feel better.” She belched again.

  “Bye, Tiffany.”

  “Hey, Joy. What about the book? You said you were getting ready to send me what you wrote. That was a week ago.”

  “Yeah, but I read it again and thought it was whack. Writing is hard, girl. Makes me have mega-respect for all my favorite authors.”

  “So what are you going to do, give up?”

  “Have you forgotten you’re talking to Joy Parsons? I found an online writing course. My first class is next week.”

  Tiffany whooped. “Now that’s what I’m talking about!”

  The two best friends made plans to hang out on Tiffany’s next day off. After ending the call, Tiffany wasn’t sure which had made her feel better—the spirited conversation or the sparkling water. Her stomach had settled enough that she felt like taking a shower. She had just pulled on a pair of cashmere sweats when the tinkling chimes announced the front door opening.

  Minutes later, Nick walked into the room. “Hey, baby.”

  “Hey.”

  “You feeling better?” he asked, his voice full of concern. Nick held his hand to Tiffany’s forehead.

  “A little bit. Still don’t know if I can eat anything, though.”

  “I thought that that might be the case. Which is why I had Chef whip up some delicious vegetable soup for you. Are you up to joining me in the living room? I have someone I’d like you to meet.”

  Tiffany frowned. “Nick, I’m sick. I’m really not up for company.”

  “Please, baby. This won’t take long.”

  “Who is it?”

  “A businessman. He’s only in town until tomorrow, so…” Nick didn’t finish because there was no legitimate end to the sentence.

  “I’m going out just like this,” Tiffany said finally.

  “You look beautiful, baby,” Nick said, kissing her forehead.

  Tiffany rolled her eyes as she slipped her feet into flat sandals and followed Nick out of the room and down the hall. She stopped short when they turned into the living room.

  “Dad?” Tiffany shot a look at Nick, and then looked back at her father.

  “Hello, Tiffany. I went to the restaurant to speak with you. They said you were ill. So I spoke with Nick, and…here I am.”

  Tiffany stared at her father, speechless. Nick quietly left the room.

  “You’ve always been first in my heart, Tiffany,” Keith began, speaking softly. “But you’ve never known this because I’ve never shown it. I think it’s about time I did.”

  With those two sentences, twenty-eight years’ worth of hurt and misunderstanding began receding from Tiffany’s heart. And by the time Keith Bronson left Nick and Tiffany’s home two hours later, the healing balm of a father’s love was working its magic.

  Shortly after they’d said good-bye to her father, Nick and Tiffany cuddled in bed.

  “I can’t believe it,” she whispered. “I can’t believe he turned his back on all that money…for me.”

  “That’s what happened.”

  “How did you talk him into it, Nick?”

  Nick turned his body so that he could look into Tiffany’s eyes. “It wasn’t me, baby. Your father came to my office and delivered the news. Said he’d been doing some soul searching, and wanted to make some changes.”

  “It had to be something that Grand said. It’s probably too late to call her tonight, but—”

  “Baby.”

  “Yes?”

  “Stop it.”

  “Stop what?”

  “Stop trying to come up with a different reason for why your father did what he did. Accept it for what it is, baby. He did it for you. He walked away from the deal because he wanted you, the daughter that he loves, in his life.”

  Tiffany began crying. />
  “Feels good, huh? To know your father loves you so much.”

  “Yes, but it’s not just that. Now, I feel kinda bad that he backed out, that I was so insecure in how he felt about me that it took something of this magnitude to believe him.” The more Tiffany thought about it, the worse she felt. “It’s not right, Nick! What if later on he resents me for what he could have had?”

  Nick took Tiffany in his arms and began rubbing her back. “I told Keith the deal was his, Tiffany. That I would back down. But your father said no. It was his decision to walk away. You have nothing to feel bad about. Besides, Keith Bronson is one helluva businessman. He’ll be all right.”

  Keith took his seat in first class, his two reasons for coming back to LA completed. He’d given Angelica a face-to-face verbal thrashing along with her walking papers, and he’d made things right with Tiffany.

  The flight attendant came over immediately. After ordering a gin and tonic, Keith pulled out his BlackBerry and began checking messages. A few minutes later, it rang.

  “Bronson.”

  “Keith, it’s Nick.”

  “Nick. How’s Tiffany, is she okay?”

  “Tiffany’s great, man. You’ll never know what you did, bowing out of the deal like that.”

  “Well, I’ll have to retire a few years later than I would have with this venture, but it’s worth it. The look on my daughter’s face last night showed me more than anything could that I did the right thing. I’m not in on this deal, but there’ll be others.”

  “That’s why I’m calling, Keith.”

  Keith perked up, took a sip of the drink he’d been given. “Yeah? You’ve heard about something coming down the pike?”

  “Actually, this had to do with the China situation. We’ve had an abrupt change in personnel, and I’m wondering if you know anybody good with numbers.”

  Keith froze, sure he’d heard incorrectly. “Good with…”

  “Stan Koespesky is no longer on the project. We’re down to the wire, so whoever takes his place will have to get up to speed on what’s going on immediately. You know anybody who, say, has a working knowledge of this situation—and has the experience, expertise, and confidence to come on board a project like this?”

  A slow smile began to creep across Keith’s face. “I might know somebody,” he said. “If the price is right.”

  “I’m thinking of him getting an equal percentage as all the others on the team. He will take the share meant for Stan. After all, the real work is going to start after this deal is signed.”

  Keith chuckled. “You’re a good man, Nick Rollins.”

  “I figured since one day you’ll be my father-in-law, this move might help me get in your good graces. And it will make your daughter a very happy woman.”

  “I think you’ve already done that, man.”

  “No happier than she’s made me, Keith. That girl’s my heart.”

  64

  Tiffany wanted everything to be perfect—just how her life felt right now. She spread another light layer of the Hawaiian barbeque sauce she’d created on the baby back ribs, and placed them back in the oven. She checked the coconut rice. It was flaky and moist. Looking around the kitchen, she felt confident in taking off her apron. She only had to sear the scallops, which had been crusted with a secret ingredient. That bit of cooking wouldn’t be messy, and besides, she wanted to look sexy for her man. The dinner was easy, relatively speaking—a simple salad and her soon-to-be-unveiled scallop appetizer the only other courses…besides dessert. Tiffany smiled as she imagined the things that would happen with the caramel and cream swirl she’d made. She actually shivered as she heard the sounds of jazz wafting from the living room. Nick had told her not to come out of the kitchen until she heard music.

  She smoothed down her simple silk mini and walked barefoot down the hall. As she did, she thought about the whirlwind of the past two weeks, all that had happened, and how her life had changed. Never in a million years had she believed she could feel a true sense of family, as had happened at her grandmother’s house last week. It had been years since she’d seen her parents in the same room, laughing, talking, and seeming to truly enjoy each other. And it was the first time that she’d introduced a man to the three most important people in her life. Her mother had met the few boyfriends she’d had previously, but her father had only met the guy she dated in college. She’d never felt a man worthy to take to Grand’s house, until now. When Grand had called earlier, the first thing out of her mouth after hello was “Where is that fine hunk of prime rib?”

  Tiffany turned the corner and saw her “prime rib” standing by the entertainment center, flipping through CDs. He looked up as soon as she entered, as if he sensed her presence. His dark brown eyes bored into hers, as if drinking her in. Her stomach clenched and fluttered, and there suddenly seemed to be less air to breathe.

  Nick sauntered over to where Tiffany stood. “If dinner tastes as good as you look,” he said, “then I’m going to be a very happy man.”

  “It’s almost ready,” Tiffany whispered. Nick enveloped her in a tender hug, and then began swaying to the sounds of Wayman Tisdale. She clasped her hands behind his neck as they danced; the sound of Wayman’s guitar stirred their strings of passion. “Everything is so beautiful,” Tiffany continued, when she finally reopened her eyes as they moved together in a slow circle. Nick had filled the living room with white flowers: orchids, roses, and lilies. White candles in various sizes and shapes were the room’s only lighting, save a dimmed overhead chandelier. Nick rubbed his hands across the fabric covering Tiffany’s body. The white halter-style fit her to perfection, just like he knew it would when he saw it in a Bloomingdale’s catalog. Nick wore white as well, a pair of linen Calvin Klein slacks paired with one of his trademark stark white shirts, unbuttoned to mid-chest.

  “I think I’ve heard this song before,” Tiffany said, partly because it was true, and partly to divert her attention from the tiny kisses Nick was placing near her temple. His touch drove her wild, but she wanted to keep her wits about her until after dinner was served. She’d been working on what was to be her signature scallop dish for a couple weeks, and no one besides her had tasted it. There was no doubt that Nick was stirring up another appetite, but she was determined to assuage the one of the stomach before satisfying that which stemmed from…other areas.

  “You don’t remember?” Nick lazily replied. When Tiffany didn’t answer, Nick continued, “That’s Wayman Tisdale covering Barry White. It’s what we danced to the first night I met you, when I brought you back to my room in Italy…to seduce you.”

  Tiffany stopped dancing and raised her head off Nick’s shoulder. “I knew it!” she said with a gleam in her eye. “You probably had the whole thing planned, paid the staff to say the hotel was sold out just so you could get some nookie!”

  Nick burst out laughing. “Nookie? Girl, I haven’t heard that word in a minute!”

  Tiffany smiled, too. “That’s what Mom calls it. Or I could have said ‘pushy,’ like Randall and Joy.”

  “Or you could have said ‘pu’—”

  “Anyway,” Tiffany interrupted. “You set me up. You probably mapped it out during that long flight over.”

  “I will admit I thought about you. Wanted to come back in coach so you could squeeze me like you were squeezing that teddy bear!”

  Tiffany gave Nick a playful swat. “I needed Tuffy. I’m prone to panic attacks when I get really scared, or sometimes feel claustrophobic in planes. But you’ll be happy to know that since I now have you to hug, I’ve packed away my furry friend.”

  Nick chuckled again as he pulled Tiffany back into his embrace and they resumed dancing. “I’ve got a lot of pull in a lot of places, but fate was on my side that day. Everything had to work out perfectly for us to be together—taking the same flight, your purse getting stolen, my stopping to talk to an airport administrator, which is why I was still there. And the crème de la crème, my favorite hotel being sold out
of rooms. I need to find out which association was having that conference so I can send them a thank-you card.”

  “Nick?”

  “Yes, love?”

  “There’s something that I really, really want to do right now.”

  Nick stifled a moan. It was what he’d been thinking about for most of the afternoon. He placed a hand under Tiffany’s chin and aligned her face with his. After kissing her in a way that left Tiffany shivering, Nick lifted his head and stared into her eyes. “I’m never going to give you up,” he whispered. “So tell me, what do you want to do?”

  “Eat,” Tiffany said. “Food,” she hastily added when she watched Nick’s pupils darken. “I’m starved.”

  “Woman, I’m going to get you for that!” He spoke gruffly, but was smiling as Tiffany led him to the dining room table.

  “Sit,” she ordered.

  “But I love watching you cook!”

  “I know, but what I’m about to serve is prepared with secrets I can’t reveal. What you can do,” she added after starting toward the kitchen, “is open up one of those delicious white wines.”

  “How about Riesling? I think its lightness will pair nicely with the scallops.”

  “You’re the expert. Be right back.”

  Tiffany took a couple deep breaths to calm her ardor and refocus. Because of Nick, cooking was the last thing on her mind right now. After drinking a glass of water, she walked to the refrigerator and pulled out the container of scallops that had been marinating in some of her secret ingredients: the zest and juice from blood oranges, rosemary, and fresh mint. She then reached for the cast-iron skillet she’d used to caramelize onions earlier. Those onions were now piled atop the baby back ribs, but Tiffany added a small amount of coconut oil (another of her secret scallop ingredients) to the pan drippings, and when the oil was heated, she dusted the scallops with her final undisclosed weapon—pistachio nuts ground to a fine powder—and gingerly placed the scallops into the skillet. This time, she heard Nick come up behind her. “I thought I told you to stay away from my kitchen,” she said, not turning around.