Just One Taste (Kimani Romance)

by Norfleet, Celeste O.

  Hours later, Nikita was charged with a burst of energy. She had successfully gotten memories of her night with Chase out of her mind. She had put them in their place and now it was time to refocus.

  She prepped, cooked and baked, getting everything ready for a vigorous day at the café. In the late afternoon she grabbed the mail and went into her office.

  The tediousness of running a business never got to her much. Thankfully, she had Darcy who thrived on doing the meticulous, more mundane chores. She paid bills, arranged delivery schedules, handled the front counter staff and customers, leaving Nikita to stay mostly in the kitchen doing exactly what she loved doing.

  Always on schedule, Nikita knew she had fifteen minutes before she had to leave and get to the Teen Dream Center for her cooking demonstration and class. She plopped down in her chair and called her friend at the real-estate office to set up an appointment to see her soon-to-be property next door. Two minutes into the conversation she nearly dropped the phone.

  “Gone?” Nikita said, blinking in confusion. She stopped going through the mail on her desk as the word echoed in her ears like church bells on a Sunday morning. It wasn’t possible.

  “Wait, what?” she said, unwilling to believe what she was hearing. Everything she’d planned to do was contingent on buying this property.

  “No, there’s gotta be a mistake. I’m talking about the property right next door to my bakery. I’m going to break out the walls and expand.”

  “I know, Nikita, and there’s no mistake,” Wendy Carter said.

  “But I’ve been talking to you about it for the last six months. It’s been on the market for over three years. No one’s even looked at it in all that time except for me. So it can’t be gone.”

  “I’m sorry, Nikita. There was nothing I could do.”

  “What do you mean there was nothing you could do? No, you’re gonna have to tell whoever leased it that the property has already been spoken for.”

  “You know I can’t do that. And I didn’t say it was leased. I said it was sold.”

  “Sold? It can’t be.”

  “Nikita, believe me, I know what a sold property looks like. It was purchased a week ago from an overseas client, sight unseen. I heard that it was a cash transaction, so you know the client must be seriously wealthy.”

  “That’s crazy. Who buys a commercial property sight unseen? What are they going to do with it?” Nikita asked, expecting her friend to tell her. There was a definite pause. “That wasn’t a rhetorical question, Wendy. Who’s the client?”

  “You know I can’t divulge that information, Nikita. And besides, it’s not even my account. It’s my boss’s sale and you know how Oren is.”

  “I can’t believe this. Okay, do me a favor. Can you see if this overseas client would be interested in leasing it to me?”

  “Sure, that I can do.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Listen, Nikita, I’m sorry about all this. I had no idea any of this was happening until the papers hit my desk this morning. I’ve gotta go. I have a meeting in a few minutes. I’ll see what I can do about leasing.”

  “Okay, I’ll talk to you later.” Nikita hung up the office phone and just stared straight ahead, unable to believe what had happened.

  “This is crazy,” she muttered, “this is…” She paused. The faint aroma of done, quickly on the way to being well done got her attention. She hurried out of her office, grabbed two pot holders on the way and then yanked the oven door open. A blast of burning heat enveloped her as she reached in. Her pastries were tinted the perfect brown indicating they were just done. A second later would have been too late. She placed the two trays on the metal counter, and then smiled in exhilaration. There was nothing like seeing perfection.

  “People, please,” Nikita said, “we need to focus here.”

  “Sorry, I got it,” Leroy said, grabbing the trays.

  The kitchen door to the front café opened and Darcy walked in with her usual unhurried self.

  “Good Lord, wouldn’t you know it, the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen in my life just walked into the bakery and I look a hot mess.” She fanned her face with an overnight express mail envelope then handed it to Nikita. “And wouldn’t you know it, he’s wearing a wedding band. Hey, what are you still doing here?”

  “I know. I know. I’m on my way out now. What’s this?” Nikita asked absently.

  “It was just delivered. It’s for you personally, not the café.”

  “What is it?”

  “Darling, you have to pull the little tab and open it to find out.”

  Nikita ignored the obvious sarcastic remark. She opened the envelope and pulled out a very legal-looking document. She scanned it quickly then tossed it onto her desk.

  “Another offer,” Darcy surmised, picking it up.

  “Yeah, I swear the Blackwells’ attorneys must have sent me a small forest’s worth of useless legal paperwork by now.”

  “It must be nice to be so popular,” Darcy said.

  “What do you mean popular?” Nikita asked.

  “Check it out. This paperwork isn’t from Reed’s family. It’s from Oren Davis Realty.”

  “Oren Davis? What does he want?”

  Darcy handed the papers back to her. “You, apparently,” she said, “or I guess more specifically, he wants your cottage.”

  “My cottage,” Nikita repeated.

  “Yep, he’s making you an offer. But since when does Oren want a cottage on Stock Island?”

  Nikita shook her head. She assumed he was still representing the Blackwell family. She shook her head. “I can’t think about that right now. I’m not selling and his drama is the last thing on my list.”

  “Listen, since you’re still here, that gorgeous man out front would like a moment of your time.”

  “Who is it?” she asked with more anticipation in her voice than she intended.

  Darcy shrugged. “Don’t know. He’s tall, dark and gorgeous, but he’s wearing a wedding band. You know that’s all I ever see.”

  Nikita peeked out the kitchen door into the main café area. She saw the man Darcy described, but didn’t recognize him. And she didn’t have time to find out who he was. She looked at her watch and headed the opposite direction to the back door. Darcy followed. “I don’t have time right now. Tell him I’m already gone.”

  Darcy nodded as Nikita walked out the back door. “Have fun at the cooking class. And try to stay home tomorrow.”

  Nikita waved and hurried to her car. She was running late.

  * * *

  An hour and a half later she left the Teen Dream Center and made a quick stop at the café for a sampling tray of her delectable delights. While she was in the center, Chase had left a text message that he and his guest were going to be a few minutes late. She knew Chase was expecting a guest this evening, she just didn’t know who it was. A tiny part of her hoped it wasn’t a date. She wasn’t sure how she’d feel about cooking for him and another woman.

  She got to her brother’s house and hurried through the back door into the kitchen. She’d prepped the evening’s meal earlier that day and readied everything per his request. There was a four-pound prime rib roast in the oven, seasoned red new potatoes and asparagus spears. Everything was back on schedule.

  She quickly prepared a garden salad and a small tray of appetizers. She pulled medium-well prime rib steak out of the oven, placed it on the counter with a foil tent, then let it sit and rest to distribute the natural juices back into the meat.

  She looked around and smiled approvingly. With everything under control for the moment, she unbuttoned her chef’s jacket, sat on the stool at the center island, grabbed her cell phone and checked her messages. There was nothing majorly important so she texted each of her sisters. Thinking about what N
atalia suggested, she pulled out her eReader. A few minutes later, she found, downloaded and began reading about the life of Jacob Buchanan and the Titan Energy Corporation by Johanna Butler.

  Two chapters in she had to admit the book was just as Natalia said—very interesting. It was amazing to read how a teenager had the foresight to change his fate and alter the destiny of his entire family. Just as she started chapter three, the doorbell rang. She looked up. Chase had a front door key, so she assumed it was his guest. Curious, she headed to the foyer.

  Through the heavily tinted sidelights, she saw Crystal Davis standing at the door. She was dressed in a silky summer dress with a V-neckline so severe it looked as if the dress were split in half. It was very obviously meant to show her abundant double-D implants. Nikita looked down at her own modest attire. She wore her chef’s jacket over a pair of jeans, a simple cotton shirt and comfortable flats. She shook her head and opened the door.

  Crystal Davis turned smiling, then seeing Nikita, her facial expression instantly changed.

  Nikita nearly laughed at seeing the comical transformation from sexy to shocked. “Hello, Crystal,” she said nicely.

  Chapter 11

  “Nikita, what are you doing here?”

  “You mean what am I doing here in my brother’s home?”

  “Yes, I mean, no. I mean, Mikhail is out of town and Chase is staying here, right?”

  “Yes, he is,” Nikita said.

  “So, why are you here?”

  Nikita and Crystal had a long history of polite altercations, most centered on the men in her life. Having failed miserably at trying to get her brothers and cousins down the aisle, Crystal, with her father’s assistance, set her sights on any wealthy man coming into the Key West area. It didn’t matter if they were already in a relationship or not. At one time she’d set her sights on Reed Blackwell, even after he and Nikita had announced their engagement.

  “Chase isn’t here,” Nikita said, then moved to close the door.

  “Wait. I want to come in and wait for him.”

  “Is he expecting you?”

  She paused a few seconds. “Yes, of course,” she said. “We’re dining at my house this evening. I’m cooking, not that it’s any of your business,” she added snidely.

  Nikita knew she was lying, and she intended to call her on it, but just before she replied, Chase pulled up in front of the house. She noticed that someone was in the passenger’s seat. Nikita stepped back, not sure she wanted to see who he was with. The driver’s door opened and Chase got out, laughing. An instant later a second man got out, also laughing. She saw that it was the same man from the café earlier.

  As he turned to the front door, Chase smiled. “Well, this is certainly a copious welcome home,” he said.

  “Indeed,” his guest replied.

  “Chase, hello,” Crystal said immediately, then seductively walked over to him in her five-inch Manolo Blahnik strappy stiletto sandals. She wrapped her arm in his as if they’d known each other for years. “I was hoping you’d get here soon.”

  “Did we have an appointment?” he asked Crystal, then glanced up at Nikita.

  Nikita relaxed back against the front door frame, obviously enjoying this too much.

  “Yes, of course. My father sent me to pick you up. He said you’d be joining us for dinner this evening. I cooked.”

  Chase looked at his guest, and then at Nikita. “Crystal, there must have been a miscommunication or a misunderstanding. I have a guest for dinner this evening.”

  Crystal looked over to the attractive man standing by the car. She smiled politely. “I have plenty for the two of you. Your guest is certainly welcome to join us.”

  Crystal’s comment was intended exactly as she’d said it and it had nothing to do with food. Chase glanced at his guest, who shook his head as he looked away then centered his attention on the cell phone in his hand. Nikita nearly chuckled aloud.

  “Actually, we have business we need to discuss,” Chase told Crystal.

  “I don’t mind a little business with dinner.”

  “Crystal, perhaps a rain check would be better.”

  “Sure, okay. I’ll tell my father.” It seemed to come out like a threat. “You have a good evening.” She kissed his cheek, glanced at Nikita, and then sashayed over to her car and drove off.

  Chase looked up at Nikita in the doorway. She nodded, turned, then went back into the house.

  Back in the kitchen, she washed her hands, buttoned her jacket and prepared to serve dinner. She put the warmed hors d’oeuvres on the island and checked the prime rib. Just as she heated the pan to quickly sauté the blanched asparagus, the kitchen door opened. Chase walked in, followed by his guest.

  “Good evening, Nikita.”

  She turned, smiling. “Good evening, gentlemen. There are hors d’oeuvres on the island. Please help yourselves or I can bring them out to you in the dining room.”

  “Not necessary. Here is good,” Chase said.

  “Okay, dinner will be served in fifteen minutes unless you’d like more time.”

  “No, fifteen minutes sounds perfect. Nikita, this is Andre Buchanan. Andre, Nikita Coles, Mikhail’s sister.”

  Nikita smiled. “It’s a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Buchanan.”

  “Please call me Andre, and actually, the pleasure is all mine. Mikhail has spoken about you often. He raves about your cooking. And the last time I was in Key West I actually had the opportunity to see you on the local morning show. Do you still do cooking demonstrations?”

  “Yes, I do. I tape once a week.”

  “I must say I’m very much looking forward to this evening’s meal.”

  She nodded. “Then I hope you’ll enjoy it. This evening I’ve prepared a light garden salad, a herbaceous prime rib roast with Marsala-enhanced au jus, buttered red skin whipped potatoes and sautéed scallion and asparagus. For dessert I’ve prepared a tray of the café’s specialty, delectable delights. Please help yourselves to hors d’oeuvres.” She motion toward the tray of assorted edibles.

  Chase and Andre each picked up hors d’oeuvres, then another and another.

  “So, you’re Nikita as in Nikita’s Café in town?” Andre asked.

  “Yes,” she said, adding wine to the sauté pan.

  “I stopped by earlier this afternoon,” Andre continued as he ate another hors d’oeuvre. “I asked to meet you, but you had apparently just left.”

  “I teach a cooking class at the local teen center. I hope there wasn’t a problem with your order.”

  “No, not at all—on the contrary. I wanted to know if you shipped your delectable delights across the country. I sampled a few the last time I was here and I know my wife would simply love them.”

  “I’m sure we can help you out with that,” Nikita said as she removed the foil tent on the rib roast. She looked up, seeing Chase and Andre’s reaction. Their eyes seemed to glaze over as they each stopped chewing and just started at the meat platter. It was the exactly the reaction she expected.

  “That looks incredible,” Chase said. “I think we’d better change the fifteen minutes to two.”

  Andre nodded. “I agree, and you can skip the garden salad.”

  “Sounds good. I’ll set the table in the dining room,” Nikita said.

  “Why don’t we eat here?” Chase suggested. Andre agreed, grabbing another hors d’oeuvre and popping it into his mouth.

  “I’m sure the last thing you want to do is enjoy your meal here in the kitchen while I’m cleaning up for the evening.”

  “Easy solve, join us,” Chase said.

  “I assume you have business to discuss.”

  “Nothing that can’t wait,” Andre said. “Please join us.”

  Nikita consented, and set three place settings on the
island. Chase grabbed glasses and Andre opened a bottle of red wine.

  Then she pulled out a sharp knife from her professional case. Both men watched with admiration as she sliced the prime rib. The succulent meat, perfectly cooked and juicy, cut like a hot knife through melted butter. She plated the food then served the picture-perfect dishes.

  “This looks… Wow,” Andre said.

  “Yeah, exactly,” Chase added.

  “Please, eat, don’t wait for me.”

  They instantly dug in with enthusiastic gusto. Nikita made a small plate for herself and by the time she turned to sit she saw that Chase and Andre were just about done. She brought the potatoes, asparagus and prime rib to the island, family style. Chase had seconds and Andre had thirds.

  When the entrée was finished Nikita presented a tray of small dessert cakes and served coffee. They laughed and talked throughout the meal, speaking mainly about her culinary skills and background and their favorite meals and recipes. Andre confessed to being the world’s worst cook and Chase admitted to at one time toying with the idea of following his mother’s footsteps and taking over the family eatery in France.

  “Nikita, you outdid yourself. That meal was beyond delicious,” Chase complimented.

  Andre nodded. “I totally agree. It was the best meal I’ve ever eaten in my life and if you tell Johanna that, I’ll deny it.”

  They laughed. “It was my pleasure. I’m glad you enjoyed it,” she said as she placed the leftovers in glass containers and put them in the refrigerator. She began clearing the dishes, and Chase and Andre helped. “Thank you for your help. I can take it from here. I’m sure you have business to discuss.”

  “Actually, I do have a few calls to make,” Andre said. “Nikita, thank you again for a mouthwatering meal. It was a true pleasure.”

  “You’re very welcome.”

  Andre left the kitchen. Chase stayed and watched as she continued cleaning up. When the place was spotless and the dishwasher was started she turned to him, leaning back against the counter. “So tell me, why didn’t you go into the family business?” she asked.