Ingredients to Love

by Dixie Lynn Dwyer

  “Alessa, you’ll be at the show Saturday night at Oliva’s, right?” Romando asked her again.

  She sighed. “I’m not sure. I mean I won’t get out of here until nine or ten, and then I would have to go home, change, then venture through mass transit,” she complained.

  “Nothing starts happening until at least eleven anyway. We go on at ten. Come on, please,” he begged.

  “You have to go. A bunch of us are going,” one of the other waiters said.

  “Okay. I’ll be there, but I can’t stay long. I have to be at my other job early.”

  “Other job? Since when and why?” Peter asked her.

  “For a while now.”

  “Things that bad?” he asked.

  She swallowed hard and looked away. “No, not bad, just stuck in a rut.”

  “If you need anything you let me know,” Peter told her.

  “Thanks, Peter.”

  As she headed home she thought about the pastries she would make for the event tomorrow. She had all her supplies. She would have to pack her clothes for work and would need to head straight back to Marchianno’s directly from Club Empire. Maybe she could ask Gisella if she could store her supplies at the club just until Friday morning and then Alessa would stop in, grab her things, and then drop them at home?

  As she planned out the schedule, she felt a headache begin to form. She was leaning her head on her hand and against the glass on the subway when she looked around her and noticed the guy watching her. As soon as her eyes landed on him, as he held his cell phone and appeared like he may be taking a picture of her, she sat up straight, forced herself to look refreshed and ready in case he was some creep looking to mug her. She was completely on guard, her heart racing, her stomach aching as her stop came up and she grabbed her things and hurried off. She looked over her shoulder several times in worry, and the guy was nowhere to be seen.

  Was she losing her damn mind?

  She was two blocks away from her apartment building, the streets were still busy with people walking. When she got closer, she noticed a man standing by a car having a cigarette. That was the same man she saw outside of her apartment this morning. As their gazes locked, he nodded and she squinted. She had trained herself to be aware living in the city. She didn’t want to ever become a victim, and despite all that training, she forgot the simple rule of watching her drink and keeping it close to her. It could have cost her too much to even think about. She got pissed, and there were a few people around so she felt confident that nothing bad would happen.

  “Hey, why are you standing around here? I saw you this morning by the building as I left and you don’t live here,” she questioned him.

  He eyed her over. “A friend of mine does,” he said.

  “Who?” she asked.

  “Johnny.”

  “Johnny who?” she asked.

  “Vlasko, who lives on the sixth floor. I’m taking him out tonight.” He eyed her over. “Want to join us for a drink?” he flirted, and she realized she was being paranoid.

  “No, thank you. Just making sure you have a right to be here, or I would call the cops,” she said, and then walked away from him and hurried to get inside. She still felt uneasy. Before she got into the elevator she saw him pull out his cell phone and it looked like he was chuckling. Her head was pounding.

  “God, I’m making myself nuts. I don’t need the extra aggravation. No one is following me. That guy is not following me. Jesus, I’m losing it.”

  * * * *

  “Back off then if she identified you. You got an idea of her schedule. You can head back,” Roberto told one of his men who was tracking Alessa.

  He leaned back in his chair and thought about her. She worked a lot and hadn’t lied about being too busy to get involved with anyone. The poor woman really seemed like a gem. She wasn’t after money, or didn’t seem to be. He didn’t know why he couldn’t stop thinking about her. He even called and spoke with Michelangelo about Alessa and found out she may or may not be going to Club Olivia to listen to a jazz band one of the waiters was in. When he found out which waiter, he felt jealous and annoyed. The guy wanted Alessa. Was checking out her ass and made a comment. The woman was attractive even with no makeup, her hair pulled up in a bun and wearing regular clothing.

  Michelangelo told him a little bit about her and her shyness. When he informed Roberto that she had been drugged one night and nearly was abducted and raped, he saw red. It angered him and made him sick to think of the possibility. It also resolved his curiosity about why she asked for a new glass of wine and watched the bartender pour it. Even though it seemed the bartender knew what happened to her, too. Perhaps that was also why she declined giving Roberto her number. She was fearful.

  The thought made him feel protective in a way, which was insane. He never dated, he screwed. Plain and simple, women wanted money. His money, but he wasn’t stupid. When one bitch tried to claim she was pregnant, he took care of it and got rid of her. It was a lie but he didn’t need the accusations or the aggravation that came along with such slander. He was too busy with real business, real life. Roberto liked that Alessa was smart, too. A law degree, yet she chose to follow her passion for making exquisite pastries. Stupid, or inspirational? He didn’t really overthink that. He just liked that she was smart, creative, beautiful, and naturally submissive. She had the makings for a regular lay, or perhaps something a little more.

  His phone rang, interrupting his thoughts. He answered the call.

  “The Fiorre family is trying to find out who is the other buyer. It won’t be long before your name is revealed,” Parker told him.

  “I’m fine with that.”

  “There’s something else.”

  “What?”

  “Alessa is friends with the Fiorres’s girlfriend. She’s helping her out tomorrow at Club Empire before she heads to work at the restaurant.”

  He swallowed hard.

  “Seriously?”

  “Yes.”

  “Interesting. This isn’t coincidence. Me meeting her, and feeling this attraction.”

  “Maybe not, but it could cause more trouble.”

  “Not necessarily. Especially if I win her over. Do me a favor and make reservations for us for Saturday night at Oliva.”

  “The Coglonie brothers own that place.”

  “It’s a public place. Besides, the only ones that will respond to my presence would be Fiorres or Lenox, Roman, Cobra, and Ziek. I need to make contact with Alessa again and make plans.”

  “Okay, I’ll take care of it.”

  He ended the call and then leaned back and thought about Alessa knowing his enemies. Maybe it wasn’t smart, or maybe it was fate and could bring him more satisfaction. He didn’t know, but the attraction was real, and definitely worth pursuing, especially if it led to a few nights of sex.

  Chapter Three

  Knowing that Alessa was in the kitchen baking up the desserts for the party put them all on edge. Ziek, Lenox, and Cobra were busy with other things, so Roman decided he waited long enough to go see her. It was past lunch time and he had an excuse to run in and grab something to eat, perhaps talk to her and see how she was doing. He felt ready for this, yet sort of nervous. Crazy. Nothing made him nervous. As he walked into the kitchen, he paused as he spotted her. She was smiling and talking to Bronx and Randall, two main chefs for the restaurant and club, bent slightly where he could see the skin on her back in the hip hugger jeans she wore, and the loose, white T-shirt that showed off the deep cleavage of her breasts as she bent over and added special decorations with some sort of tube-like thing.

  Both men were flirting with her and she was shaking her head. The minute they caught sight of him, they looked serious and respectful.

  “Roman, what can we get you?” Bronx asked him and Alessa looked up, her lips parted, her cheeks flushed, and holy shit she looked gorgeous.

  He gave her a wink.

  “I came in to see Alessa, say hello, and grab some lunch.”
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  “No problem, would you like the regular?” Bronx asked.

  He nodded but moved closer to Alessa.

  “It’s good to see you,” he said to her as he stepped closer and leaned down to kiss her cheek. She smelled tasty, like icing and cookies. Her hazel-green eyes sparkled.

  “Good to see you, too, Roman. How is everything?” she asked, looking away and refocusing on what she was doing. He could see her hand suddenly shaking as she tried to decorate the tiny pastries.

  “Good, busy as usual. Those look incredible,” he said, pressing against her back and stroking her arm. He slid to the right and she looked at him, and he knew she felt the attraction.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked.

  “I’m good, Roman. Just fine,” she said, swallowing hard. He made her nervous. Well, the sexy thing made him fucking nervous, too. He rubbed along his beard.

  “I had no idea that this was what you did for a living. Gisella said you’ve established quite the following at Marchianno’s, too.”

  “Well, Gisella may be exaggerating a bit,” Alessa replied and put down the decorating tool she was using.

  “No way she is. Everyone knows your pastries, Alessa,” Bronx said to them. She looked at Bronx and smiled softly, causing Roman to release her. She stepped aside and he watched her.

  “You haven’t come out at all to the clubs, things okay?” he asked.

  She looked at him and wiped her hands on her apron. “I’m good. Just busy working.”

  He nodded and squinted at her.

  “Any particular reason why you didn’t reply to our texts and phone calls asking about you?” he asked and she looked nervous. She lowered her eyes and started to put things away. The display of pastries and tiny square chocolates covered the entire table.

  “I was fine. You did your part that night while I recovered and I appreciate that. I just want to put it behind me, that’s all.”

  He reached out and stroked her arm. She pulled back and he felt offended, hurt by her pulling back from him. He didn’t know why. He asked for this response by ignoring his feelings for her just like the others had been.

  “We worry about you, Alessa. About your recovery, about how tired you look. Are you eating okay? I mean, sometimes after such a scary experience you could have some side effects. Nightmares, fears of regular things.”

  “I’m fine. I’m handling it fine and alone,” she snapped at him, and then Bronx said lunch was done.

  “Did you eat yet?” he asked her.

  “She’s joining me. Oh my God, Alessa, these look incredible.” Gisella walked into the kitchen interrupting the conversation. She hugged Alessa. “Thank you so much for doing this. You finished just in time, too.”

  Alessa glanced at her watch.

  “Yes, I have enough time to grab the bus to the subway to get to work. I meant to ask you if I could keep my supplies here until tomorrow. I can stop by in the morning.”

  “Why don’t I have Prince drive you to work and tomorrow he can bring the stuff to you so you can sleep in? Maybe by ten he’ll get there.”

  “Oh, you don’t have to go to that trouble.”

  “Trouble? Are you kidding me? This was awesome for you to do and I know how much the commute sucks for you every day. It gives you a break,” Gisella said.

  “Okay. If you’re sure.”

  “I’m sure. I’ll send Prince over by ten with everything. He won’t mind, especially after you gave him and the guys the brownies. Jesus, woman, you are amazing. Don’t be shocked if you start getting phone calls to do private parties and catering.”

  “Oh God, that would be awesome, but I don’t think I would have time with the two jobs.”

  “Two?” Gisella asked.

  “I’m working at the bakery this weekend.”

  “Why are you working so much? Do you need some help?” she whispered to Alessa. Alessa looked completely uncomfortable.

  “I’m okay,” she said and glanced at Roman, who held her gaze.

  “We should get together and talk. How about on Sunday?”

  “I don’t get out of the bakery until ten and then I need to sleep a few hours.”

  “Sounds like a grueling schedule,” Roman said. She glanced at him, looked him over, and then nodded.

  “Gotta do what I need to. Anyway, so I’ll make sure everything is packed up in the corner.”

  “Great. I’ll send Prince over, like I said. Let me know when you’re ready to leave and Prince can drive you to work,” Gisella said.

  Alessa glanced at her watch. “I’ll meet him out front in fifteen minutes.”

  “Excellent. Oh, and I’ll get you cash for today, too. The woman paying should be here soon.”

  “Well, if I’m gone already just give it to Prince to give me tomorrow morning or you can give it to me Sunday.”

  Roman walked out of the kitchen with his food. It sounded like Alessa was working a lot.

  “Hey, what’s going on?” Ziek asked him, approaching from the party room.

  “Nothing, just getting some lunch.”

  “Looks good. I’m going to hit up Bronx for something, too. Did you see Alessa?” Ziek asked him.

  “Yup.”

  “And?”

  “And what?”

  Ziek stared at him, but Roman remained quiet. His cousin wasn’t going to ask anything else. The only time they talked about Alessa together was the night she was drugged, came onto them, and kissed them, admitting she wanted them. They didn’t know if it was true or not. Then, after that none of them really said anything, just expressed frustration not knowing if she was okay when she didn’t answer their texts. Then they stopped texting.

  Ziek walked into the kitchen and Roman ate his lunch. Alessa looked thinner, but still as beautiful as ever, and sweet. Too sweet to have feelings for and too sweet to sleep with.

  * * * *

  Alessa just finished up and Bronx and Gisella were complimenting the displays of desserts she made when Ziek walked into the kitchen. Like it hadn’t been enough to see Roman, now Ziek, with his dark brown hair, clean shaven face, and gorgeous body walked into the room.

  “Hey, what’s all this?” he asked, waving his hand at the display as he approached. He gave her the once over.

  “Alessa’s creations. They are gorgeous, aren’t they? Listen, I need to head back out to make sure everything is set up. Bronx will make sure these go out later. Take the lunch he packed up for you, too. I’ll call you,” Gisella said before leaving.

  “It’s good to see you, Alessa,” Ziek said and stepped forward to kiss her cheek. When his hand landed on her hip, she felt that instant attraction. She tempered it down and gave a soft smile, then stepped away, pretending to wipe down the counter she already wiped down.

  “Good to see you, too, Ziek. How is everything?” she asked. When she looked up, his hands were on his hips and he was squinting at her.

  “Busy, and you?”

  “Same,” she replied as they both stared at one another.

  “How have you been feeling? Everything okay?” he asked as if caring.

  “Yes, all is good. Just busy. In fact, I need to go, Prince is giving me a ride to work.”

  “Work?”

  “Yes, at Marchianno’s. Anyway, see you around,” she said, and then he stopped her when she went to pass by him. She froze and stared up into his dark brown eyes.

  “We should get together…and talk. Maybe have a drink or something.”

  “I don’t really go out any more like that. Too busy working.”

  “Working, or being fearful because of what happened?” he asked, shocking her.

  She went to speak but then closed her mouth. He reached out and stroked her jaw. She froze, staring at him.

  “It’s okay to be afraid. Perhaps hanging out with us, with your friends, would help?”

  “Honestly, I just don’t have the time.”

  He lowered his hand from her cheek and stared at her lips.

  “
There’s always time for friends.”

  “I’m very busy right now. Maybe in a week or so,” she stated and started to pull back. She couldn’t be this close to him and not be affected. It was the same with Roman, yet he scared her more. Maybe because Roman had that whole beard thing going, and the slicked back hair style, that firm, commanding tone and expression. Ziek was serious looking, but his face clean shaven, his eyes a lighter brown, and his hair wavy. He didn’t appear as hard around the edges, but she wasn’t fooled by that pretty boy look either. The man was capable and then some.

  “Well, I really need to get going. Good seeing you.”

  “You, too, baby,” he said, adding the “baby” and making her heart hammer inside of her chest.

  “Bye Bronx, later guys,” she called out to the others, and then headed out of the door carrying her backpack and bag.

  * * * *

  “It’s going to be crowded tonight. This jazz band is pretty popular,” Logic said to Train.

  “I know, we’re all booked up with tables. It’s standing room only, and the band hasn’t even started yet,” Train replied.

  “Where is C.J.? I want to go over a few things with him before it gets too crowded,” Logic stated.

  Train was looking toward the doorway and spotted C.J. “There he is. Hey, is that Alessa?” Train asked.

  “Yeah, it is. Wow, she looks great.”

  As Alessa approached, they greeted her hello, giving her kisses on the cheek.

  “So good to see you, honey. What are you doing here alone?” Logic asked, and he knew he sounded concerned.

  “I know one of the guys in the jazz band. I work with him at Marchianno’s.”

  “Oh yeah, Romando. By the way, I heard those desserts you made for the party at Collin and Fedarro’s place were amazing,” Train stated.

  “Oh, thank you, Train,” she said, and then Romando came over.