“That’s not what I’m here to talk to you about.”
He smirked. “Okay. We can talk about you ignoring my text yesterday about hiring a new chef. What are you even doing here? Had to fly down and tell me how to run things?”
I lifted an eyebrow, and crossed my arms. “Pot Liquor is my restaurant too. We’re fifty-fifty here — you don’t run things by yourself. Besides… there’s no need to hire a new chef.”
Cutting his eyes toward the ceiling, Nixon let out a deep, exasperated huff, then responded in a tone edged with annoyance. “Charlene…” — I narrowed my eyes — “We agreed that with Paul leaving, we needed another executive chef. Jordan and Amina are good, but neither has the experience to help me run this kitchen.”
“I know that.”
“Then why—“
“Because I’m going to be Paul’s replacement,” I interrupted, shrugging. “We’ll run the kitchen together, like we did before.”
Nixon cocked his head to the side, scrutinizing me for a moment before he shook his head. “No.”
“No?”
“Did I stutter?” he asked, raising his brow.
With a dry laugh, I took a step closer. “What makes you think you can tell me whether or not I can come back?” I challenged, sitting down on the edge of the desk.
He scoffed. “What makes you think I can’t?”
“The ownership documents. Why don’t you want me in here?”
“Why do you want to be back here?”
“Can you stop answering my questions with questions?”
“Can you answer the damned question?”
I briefly shut my eyes, running my tongue over the smooth surface of my teeth as I tried to repress my annoyance. I didn’t even have to wonder at how Nixon knew about Adrian’s legal troubles. My mom knew, which meant his mom knew, which meant he knew. And I knew what he was aiming for.
He wanted to hear that technically, I was broke. He wanted the words “I have to move back here” to actually leave my mouth. Nixon wanted me to plead with him not to make it more difficult than it already was to admit the fact that I couldn’t give the executive chef opening to someone else because I needed it.
Hmph.
I would never give him the satisfaction.
“I’m just… homesick. I’m going through a hard time, and I want to be back in a place that’s familiar for me. Is that so hard to understand?”
Nixon gave a quick shout of laughter, shaking his head. “You expect me to believe that?”
I lifted an eyebrow, leveling him with a glare. “I expect you to mind your damned business. Do you have a question about my professional ability?”
“Should I?” He shrugged. “You’re the one who ran away from here to get married. I don’t know what you’ve been doing since then.”
“I didn’t “run away”. What’s with the running references?” I asked, propping a hand on my hip. “You tryna’ make a point?”
I knew I’d put on a few pounds since he’d last seen me, but I’d always been a curvy girl, and Nixon had always liked it. A few days a week at the gym kept the cellulite at bay, but other than that I let the ass, hips, and thighs flourish — and never got any complaints.
“That’s bull, and you know it. Stop deflecting, and answer the question. Should I have a question about your professional ability? You haven’t lost your hot-shitness have you?”
Despite my irritation with him, I grinned at that. “Never. I was a private chef out in Cali.” — What I didn’t mention was the fact that because most of my clients came to me through Adrian, there were questions about whether or not my business was legitimate. — “I’ve been keeping the wheels oiled and in motion.”
Nixon nodded, chewing at the corner of his lip. “We’ll see.”
“We’ll see? Negro what, you think I can’t cook anymore?”
“Oh, I’m not worried about your cooking, not really,” he said, pushing himself up from his chair. “I’m worried about our ability to cook together. Memba’ this?” He came to stand in front of me, pointing to the lingering scar I’d given him with the hot end of a frying pan.
“You deserved that.”
“Says you.”
“Says the whole neighborhood.”
“You asked them?”
“I can,” I replied, trying to grin and hold my breath at the same time. Nixon stood close enough that his leg was touching mine, and the intoxicating aroma of brown sugar and cinnamon lingered around him. I loved Nixon’s sweet potato pancakes, and he just had to be making them the day I came back. Of course. “I can call up Grown Folks Music, get Vaughn or Leah on the line… I’m sure they’ll let me broadcast a message.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“I so would.”
“After everything I’ve done for you?” he asked, placing a hand to his chest as if I’d wounded him.
“Like what, Nix?”
“I got you back in town, girl!”
Biting my lip to keep from giving in to his infectious smile, I gave him a playful roll of my eyes. “And how exactly do you think you did that?”
He sucked his teeth. “You didn’t hear me singing for you? Come on home… to… me… Charleeeene.”
“Oh God,” I giggled, teasingly shoving his shoulder. “Are you ever gonna stop doing that?” I looked down at my hands, trying to hide that I was blushing. Damn… he even still sounded good. So much for my distant hope of a permanent vocal cord strain.
Nixon moved closer, and when I looked up, he pinned my gaze with his as he nudged my knees apart to step between them. “Nope. Never.”
Keep it together, Charlie.
“What are you doing?”
He dropped his gaze to my lips, then shifted forward, just slightly, but enough to make my heart crash to the front of my chest and stay there, racing like it was late for work. “I’m not doing anything,” he declared, hovering not even an inch from my face. “Unless… you’re feeling something?”
Oh, I was feeling something alright. Throbbing between my legs, from where his hardness nudged my softness. I knew I should probably smack him for such a brazen act, but my kitty was purring a little too loud for me to hear my common sense over it. This was the kind of thing Nixon did to me, and exactly why coming back here was probably an awful idea. But… there were bills to pay.
“Ain’t nobody feeling nothing.”
“Oh you’re feeling something,” he said, speaking into my short, springy curls before he placed a kiss against my forehead.
I had to bite my lip to get myself in order, then swallowed hard. “Yeah, I’m feeling grossed out by you taking the liberty of putting your lips on me, after they’ve been God knows where.”
“You know where.” Nixon grinned, gently gripping the soft flesh of my thigh before moving his hand to run a finger along the inside seam of my jeans. “I bet you’re thinking about it now.”
“It’s been five years, Nix. Do you really think I remember that?”
He chuckled, placing his palms flat against the desk on either side of me. “If you’ve been counting the years… you remember.”
“I don’t.”
“You’re putting off pheromones, Charlie… you remember.”
Of course I remembered. It wasn’t like I hadn’t had good sex in the five years since we’d broken up, but yeah… even if I didn’t remember, my body certainly did, and I didn’t doubt for a second that I was emanating fuck me vibes, because… I kinda wanted him to.
“What’s your point?” I asked, in a breathless whisper I barely recognized as my own.
He got closer, his minty-cool breath tickling my ear as he responded. “I’m sayin’… your little husband is out of the picture…right?”
Right.
“Why?”
“Maybe I can refresh that fuzzy memory of yours.”
Mmmm, I’d be lying if I said that wasn’t a tempting offer, but I could not go back down that road.
“Uh-uh,” I said, pushing
him away so I could slip down from the desk. “You and your damned voodoo dick will not pull me back in. Not making that mistake.” I wagged a finger in front of his face to emphasize my point, then headed for the door.
With my hand on the doorknob, I turned to face him again. “Email me with how you want to set up the schedule, and we’ll work it out. I’ll probably need to shadow you for a few days to get back into the swing.”
Nodding, Nixon slipped his hands into his pockets. “The schedule will be in your inbox within the hour.”
“Thank you. I… I’m gonna go now. Have some… other things to do.” Even though I said I was leaving, I stood there for a moment longer, keeping my eyes locked on his face, even though my peripherals were all over the imprint at the front of his pants.
He lifted an eyebrow at me, breaking my trance, and I turned and opened the door. Just before I stepped out, he spoke up again.
“Charlie?”
I let out a little breath before I turned to face him. “Yeah?”
Nixon’s lips spread into a grin, dimples on full display as he winked.
“Welcome home.”
three.
charlie.
I couldn’t get my ass out of there fast enough, and didn’t fully breathe until I was back on the sidewalk in front of the restaurant. Outside, the sultry late-summer air laid heavy on my skin, and leaving the air-conditioned restaurant in such a hurry didn’t seem like such a good idea.
Pot Liquor was like my baby, a love child between Nixon and me. The only successful thing to come out of our relationship. It started with us hosting tasting parties, then slightly larger catering jobs, and developed into the cute little modern eatery I stood in front of now.
Back when we first started, we didn’t have anything but immature love, a feeble bank account, and a dream that the little rundown space in a mostly abandoned part of town could be the start of something beautiful. Nine years later, it was. Slowly but surely, our community cleaned up our city, and turned it into a place where our businesses could flourish.
Instead of languishing on my heels in the sweltering heat, I headed next door. I smiled as I entered the space, breathing deep. The place had been renovated since my last visit, but the warm, inviting aroma of good coffee that was uniquely Urban Grind would never change. I glanced around, and didn’t spot the owner, Roman, but I did make eye contact with another handsome business owner from the block.
His face spread into a smile as he walked toward me, balancing a cup of coffee and pushing his wallet back into his pocket. “Yo, what’s up pretty girl?”
I grinned as Carter pulled me into a hug, squeezing me tight before he released me and took a step back. His barbershop, Fresh Cuts, predated all of the businesses on the block. It was his inheritance, started by his grandfather, before factory closings and economic downturns killed the vibrancy of the neighborhood.
“How have you been? You good?”
“As well as can be expected with… everything.” I shrugged, then glanced over his shoulder and around the coffee shop. “I heard you’ve got yourself a gorgeous new girlfriend…”
Warmth bloomed in my chest at the way Carter smiled about that. Carter was already a good looking guy, with his neat, shoulder length locs and smooth pecan-colored skin, but the mention of the woman he — so obviously — loved brought a light to his face that made him exponentially more handsome. So friggin’ sweet.
Wonder if Adrian ever smiled like that when people asked him about me?
“Yeah… so you’ve been hearing things too?” he asked, trying in vain to tone down his grin.
I smiled. “Yessir, I have. And… I have to admit, I was glad to hear it.”
I’d known Carter a long time. Before we were business owners, Carter, Nixon, and I attended high school together, just a few blocks away from where we stood now. Carter was, without question, a nerd, with just enough swag from playing basketball that he avoided bullying. Now, he’d outgrown his “nerd” label, and was, from what I’d heard, quite a charmer.
“Does Nix know you’re back?”
I rolled my eyes. The fact that I’d expected the inquiry didn’t make it any less annoying. It wasn’t a problem that Carter asked, but he was just the first in a lengthy string of people with the same question: Does Nix know you’re back, as if we were high school sweethearts from a sappy movie, and he’d been pining away, waiting for me to return.
That wasn’t us.
Nixon and I had been over, no backsies, for five long years. I’d gotten married, and Nixon had… done whatever he’d been doing. In our constant communication, which was necessary to run the business, there had never been any awkward declarations of continued love, no desperate pleas to take anybody back. We had moved on, and I couldn’t understand why everybody else wouldn’t.
“Yes, Carter, your friend, who I speak with often, because we own a business together, knows I’m back in town.” I twisted my mouth to the side, raising an eyebrow at him to highlight my annoyance.
In response, Carter laughed. “I know, I know, Nix ain’t your goddamned man,” he said, mimicking my voice.
“Carter…”
“Okay, I’ll leave you alone. I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, you oughta be,” I said, rolling my eyes. “First full day back, and already, y’all are—“
“Ah, hush girl.” Carter draped his free arm around my shoulder, pulling me with him as he headed outside. “I know you’ve got a sweet tooth, let me take you by the chocolate shop as a peace offering. My treat.”
I lifted an eyebrow. “It doesn’t count as “your treat” when you’re getting booty from the owner of the shop.”
“Of course it does,” he chuckled as he led me across the street. “Nixon was right, you’re kinda ungrateful.”
I skidded on my heels, no longer moving willingly on the sidewalk as I shoved Carter’s arm away from me. “He said I was what?”
Carter let out a shout of laughter as he shook his head. “I’m playing, Charlie, damn. You know Nix didn’t say that shit.”
“He better not have,” I said, eyes narrowed. “Both of y’all play too much. Since you wanna be funny, I’m telling on you, how about that?”
The smile slid from Carter’s face. “Wait a minute, what?”
“Mmhmm,” I smirked. “You aren’t the only one with a hookup at the candy shop, remember?”
I laughed as I pulled open the front door to Guilty Pleasures and headed straight for the back, bypassing the counters full of gourmet chocolate confections. The owner of the shop, Vivienne was at her desk, poring over something on the computer.
“Viv, your boyfriend is being mean to me,” I said, turning to stick my tongue out at Carter as he walked up to stand beside me in the open door to the office. When she looked up, her pretty face spread into a smile, and she stood from her desk to walk over.
“Carter,” she playfully scolded as she looped an arm around my waist. “You know that Charlie is family, and I expect her to be treated with the utmost kindness and respect, no?”
“Yes ma’am.” He pulled her away from me to gather her in his arms, then dropped his head to give her the kind of kiss that would likely have turned into a lot more if I hadn’t cleared my throat, reminding them that I was there. Carter was slow to release her from his grasp, and they both looked a little dazed as they stepped apart. They stared at each other for a few seconds, silently communicating before Viv bit her lip and looked away, shooting me a grin that was half embarrassed, half delight.
“I’ll see you later tonight baby,” Carter said, finally taking his eyes off of her. “Charlie, it was good to see you… I’ll be sure to tell Nix—“
“Carter…” Viv and I warned at the same time.
“Okay.”
With a final wave and a chuckle, Carter exited the office, leaving Viv and I alone.
“Sorry about that,” she said, running her thumb over her lip. “Got a little carried away. He just got back from dropping his li
ttle brother off at college. He was gone for a week, and then yesterday was Roman and Simone’s wedding, so we are a little…”
“Horny?”
Viv blushed a little, then nodded. “Is it obvious?”
“Very,” I said, laughing. “But hey, nothing wrong with that, especially when you’re in love. You should have seen his ass light up like a Christmas tree when I mentioned you.”
Shaking her head, Viv closed the door to the office, then sat down on the edge of her desk, motioning for me to take one of the chairs. “It certainly was not easy, but we made it, and I am… elated.”
I grinned, reaching forward to grab her hand. “It shows. Love looks good on you. On both of you. I’m glad it all worked out,” I said, thinking back to the heartbroken phone call with Viv a few months back. She and Carter had started as friends, then turned into friends with benefits. As usual, those benefits turned into feelings. Unreciprocated feelings. Or… so she thought.
Viv sighed. “So am I. But I must say, it would have been nice to have my cousin here with me at the time. But, you are now, so all is well.”
I sucked my teeth. “Girl, I would have killed Carter. It was better that I stayed where the hell I was.”
Brushing her mass of curls back from her face, Viv laughed. “You know… maybe you are right about that.” Her smile lingered a few moments longer before her expression sobered. “So… how are you?”
I shook my head, pushing out a little breath as I leaned back in my chair. “I’m… surviving. Got a negative pregnancy test yesterday, so thank God for that. Still waiting to hear about when and if they’ll release the hold on my personal money, so I can pay you back sooner.”
“I am not concerned about that,” Viv said, scowling. “You are family. When that mess happened with Thierry, you were the only person who did not treat me as if I was stupid. You have always treated me as a sister. Anything I can do for you, let me know.”
Nodding, I swallowed past the lump in my throat in an effort to hold my tears at bay. “Thanks Viv, but you’re already doing more than enough. Letting me crash at your place…”
Fall In Love Again (Serendipitous Love Book 3) Page 2
