Text 'Yes' if You Love Me

by Toye Lawson Brown

  Wiping the sweat off his face, he lowered his head. He had a hard time believing what the hell happened. He’d acted like a total jerk. One second, he was immersed in their conversation, but he texted with another woman who had visited the restaurant days earlier. It started as an innocent conversation. She had complimented his cooking; he thanked her for coming to the restaurant.

  And then, just minutes later, everything went horribly wrong. How in hell had he mixed up the text messages? Though it happened weeks ago, he could still see the expressions that had raced across Nikki’s face right before she stormed out of his office.

  First, she was stunned, then she’d been angry, but by the end, she only looked hurt. The way she’d looked at him like he was scum and laid out the reasons why he was such was like having a knife stabbed in the center of his chest. Logan felt like the whole scene had been a nightmare.

  Even though he was taught to apologize when he wronged a person, he didn’t need his mother or anyone else telling him needed to that immediately. But saying 'I’m sorry' wasn’t going to cut it. He had to do something big; something to make her see that he was not a bad guy; not a racist. He had asshole days, but he was never a racist.

  Logan got to his feet and limped to the kitchen. Grabbing a bottle of water, he drank half of it down in one gulp. His cell phone was on the counter. Swiping it open, he prayed Nikki had returned one of the many text messages he had sent her. She apparently had seen them because she had not blocked him.

  He drank the rest of the water in the bottle and tossed it in the recycle bin. Guilt kicking his ass or not, he had to go to an event in a couple of hours. He limped to the bathroom and turned on the shower. Somewhere between shampoo, rinse and repeat, he had to clean up his attitude and represent Neeò and smile while he did it.

  Attending the Chew Town Cleveland event was a first for Logan. The convention center was at capacity, with restaurant vendors eager to show off their cooking skills and salesmen ready to pitch to restaurant owners the next best thing in cooking equipment. And there were even real estate agents standing by with properties available for eateries.

  Any foodie in attendance was in heaven at this moment. Even celebrity chefs were in the building, and the rumor was a celebrity chef would prepare a dish with one of Cleveland’s own.

  Logan arrived at his station, and the pungent aroma of spice immediately filled his lungs. His station was not far from an Indian restaurant, where a chef was grilling large amounts of lamb on a smokeless grill. He had to figure out a way to divert the strong odor or risk losing visitors. The strong spices used in Indian cooking blending with the spices he had planned to use would not be pleasing to the nose. The fan he erected worked perfectly.

  He smiled and posed for pictures as taste-testers praised his food. His stand had a steady line of visitors since plating the first sample. Initially, he and Ron were going to attend the event, but that would have left the sous chef to handle business at the restaurant. They agreed Ron would run Neeò, and Logan would take the sous chef to help out at the event.

  “He is an amazing chef,” one woman said as she reached for another savory filled dumpling. “The ingenuity and execution of recipes are just,” she paused and smiled to bring home her statement. “Is like having a love affair in your mouth. The beef and vegetables are so tender I hardly have to chew.”

  “He is definitely a contender to win the competition,” said the other woman.

  “Ladies, thank you. Hearing your kind words makes my going to culinary school worth every dime.”

  The woman with the bright red lipstick grinned, enhancing the crow’s feet around her eyes even more. “I should hire you as my personal chef.”

  He smiled. “I’m flattered.” As the women took more samples from the various platters, he watched them move to the next stand. They gave the same compliments to the chef. Logan shook his head. The women had rehearsed how to compliment the chefs and not seem greedy while gobbling up the free samples.

  “Should I prepare more tuna, chef?”

  Logan opened the warmer to check on the seafood. His peeve was leaving seafood in warmers for too long. The steam and heat changed the color and texture of the delicate meat. However, both the tuna and swordfish were about gone. “Yes, but not too many. We’ll need more tenderloin dumplings too. Those went fast.”

  Sam, the sous chef, replied, “Those two women ate a platter of them in one standing. Why aren’t these on the menu?”

  Logan laughed. “I made up the recipe last night. Don’t tell nobody, Sam, but those are nothing but glorified Hot Pockets.”

  “What… Hot Pockets? That frozen pastry crap?”

  “Yup. Only I cooked a tenderloin with veggies then strained the liquid. Wrapped the whole shebang in a wonton and bingo--tenderloin dumplings with au jus for dipping on the side.”

  Sam bit into one and grinned. “These are great. You should add them as appetizers to the bar menu. Customers will go crazy over these.”

  “Okay; it will be your project.”

  Sam laughed. “Opened my big mouth again. At least they are easy to make.”

  *****

  Nikki brought up the rear of the line, feeling outdone again. Had she known earlier that Gayle’s entire family was coming along, she would’ve found a graceful way to stay home. As much as she loved Gayle’s family, she didn’t want to spend every weekend or go to every function with them.

  Chew Town was an annual event she begged Gayle to attend with her every year. Every year something came up, and she’d end up not going. Last year, she'd had to chance to meet G. Garvin. She purchased two expensive tickets but missed the event because Gayle’s father’s appendix ruptured just as they entered the IX Center. They had to leave, which meant she didn’t get to see G. Garvin in action, and she lost the hundred-fifty dollars she’d spent on the non-refundable tickets.

  This year, she'd made a promise to go, since Bobby Flay was scheduled to cook for the crowd. Plus, she would get to visit the brand new convention center for the first time.

  Impressive escalators led to a wide-open space and bright lights, and there was the noise of people moving about. The aroma of fresh bakery and savory food came from every direction she turned. This was the moment she had been waiting for, and somehow, it didn’t transform how she imagined.

  Nikki stood by and listened to Gayle’s family discuss which direction they should go first. She folded her arms across her chest and pouted like a two-year-old not caring about the expression showed on her face. Gayle should see just how irritated she was.

  As the six of them happily set off to explore the many venues, she went her own way. She didn’t need an escort and would catch up with them later. Scanning the mouth-watering treats the heart desired, Nikki nearly salivated when a chef dipped a frozen banana into a vat of dark creamy chocolate and then rolled it in crushed nuts.

  She had to have the willpower to pace herself, or she’d eat everything in sight. Nikki felt a hard tug on her arm that turned her around.

  “What are you doing?” Gayle asked.

  Nikki licked her lips. “I’m watching how they make frozen bananas and trying not to jump the counter to eat one of them. What are you doing?”

  “We’re going over to the Taste of Africa area to try the food there. Come on; everybody is waiting for us.”

  Nikki shook her head. “You all go ahead. I want to see the desserts first.”

  “That wasn’t the plan, Nikki,” Gayle said, annoyed, then rolled her eyes. “First, we'd check out the food stands, then look at the innovations in cooking. Then, after our food had settled, we’d do the desserts, and, last watch, Bobby Flay. You did hear the itinerary, right?”

  “I heard the itinerary,” Nikki said and then walked away from the counter.

  “So come on. I don’t want to waste any time loitering on crap that doesn’t interest me. Plus, Aunt Tilly is eager to try the curried goat.”

  “What happened, Gayle? Today was our day.”
/>
  Gayle’s brows narrowed. “Wait, you have a problem with my family being with us?”

  “I don’t have a problem but…”

  Gayle didn’t care to hear Nikki’s reply and interrupted her. “Apparently, you do have a problem, Nikki.”

  “Um, no, not really,” she stammered. “I mean, I just… I thought it would be us doing Chew Town.”

  “Plans changed, like they always do when we get together.”

  Nikki found her voice once Gayle became agitated. “Well, that is my problem. I’m tired of the plans changing. This is something I’ve wanted to do for a long time. I’m finally here and can’t do it my way, but the way your family has planned it.”

  “I’m sorry, them being here has upset you. We try to make you feel part of the family and include you. I didn’t think you’d mind if I included them for once.”

  Nikki immediately recognized Gayle’s statement and figured she would play along. “For once? Other than at work, a member of your family is with us everywhere we go. Mimi and your aunt are going on a singles cruise with us. They’re married, Gayle.”

  “About that; my aunts Tilly and Sara, want to come too. It might be too late for them to get tickets.”

  That was the final straw for Nikki. There were too many people around for her to shout as she wanted, but she had to release the steam. “One of them can buy my ticket and I’ll stay home.”

  “Girl, please. Are you pms’ing? Is that why you’re tripping today?”

  “I’m not tripping, Gayle. I’m fed up. Don’t get me wrong; I love your family. The closeness is something I’ve never had. But you have to understand; they are your family and not mine.”

  “I don’t follow, Nikki. You love my family but don’t want them around. I’m the opposite and want them around me.”

  “And I like doing stuff with my friend and her family but not all the time. Look at my side of it, Gayle. I hate my mother. Yes, I used the word hate and unfortunately, her feelings for me are mutual. My father I adore, but I can’t hang out with him because of his status. Kenya is… she doesn’t exist, either.”

  Gayle shrugged her shoulders, letting her natural bossiness shine. “Not the woe-is-me again. I’ve heard it a thousand times already, Nikki. This is not the place to reflect on your horrific childhood or boring life; we’re here to have fun. Stop the madness, and let’s go.”

  Gayle took hold of Nikki’s purse strap, attempting to drag her away. “Stop the madness? Give me some space, damn.”

  Gayle frowned and made a motion with her hands. “Oh, I’m crowding you?”

  Nikki frowned. “Actually, you are. You’re always pushing me, and I end up doing what I don’t want to do.” Gayle’s body stance read ‘pissed off.’ Nikki could stop the brewing argument and give in like always; today she wasn’t bowing to defeat.

  “Oh, God! This is about you and that chef?”

  “It has nothing do with that, but you are in that mess too,” Nikki said lifting an arched brow.

  “Hey, I didn’t force you to fix his computer… you offered. And, whatever happened during that operation is not my fault either. You won’t even talk about it, Nikki.”

  “Because you’ll say I’m overacting and go on about me being anti-social, blah… blah… blah.”

  “You got that right, sister,” Gayle replied, sarcastically.

  Nikki took a step back and asked, “Do you ever listen to me talk, Gayle?”

  “Yes, you whine about being alone all the damn time. I'm sick of that, but do I complain? No, I try to help. I’m done helping. Since my family is so intrusive, I’ll go with them. You do your thang by yourself.”

  Nikki rubbed her temples, letting Gayle walk away and listening to the heels of her shoes click hard on the cement floor until the sound faded away in the crowd. She had to laugh as she recalled the look on Gayle’s face. She almost expected her to end the rant with a bow like she’d been holding that in for a long while.

  “Oh well, I drove here with them. I will find a way home,” she said to herself. Wandering over to the wine tasting section, she picked up a sample and drank it down, not caring if it was red or white. Red wine typically gave her a massive headache; that was irrelevant since she already had one.

  Chapter Nine

  Was this her lowest point ever? For two years in a row, she had missed the main event at Chew Town. Nikki lumbered to a bench and sat down carefully. Three wine tasting booths were open to the public, and she had visited them all. After that, she went to the imported beer and ales booth, unable to drink many of those because her stomach was revolting.

  The room spun when she looked up at the ceiling. The bright lights exaggerated the fuzziness in her head. She had to get some air, so she went outside. She had never been a drinker; one shot of tequila would have her slurring words, two glasses of wine would mellow her out, and a beer would usually get her talking more than normal. A combined mix of all three changed her personality altogether.

  That was the mode in which she was then—a personality she didn’t recognize. Dropping her head in her hands, she waited for the wave of nausea to pass. It was equally stupid to drink on an empty stomach. How Judith did it morning, noon, and night seven days a week was beyond her.

  “Hey, are you okay?”

  Great. A good samaritan sent to my rescue, she thought. Nikki kept her head down, hoping the person would go away. “I’m fine, thanks.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Her shoulders slumped. She knew when she was trapped. The bench sagged under the weight of the man sitting down. The scent drifting from him was familiar. When she pulled it together enough, she looked over and saw Logan grinning at her. With his grin plastered firmly to his face, he leaned over and handed her a bottle of cold water. It appeared to be the only bottle he had.

  Nikki sighed. It was going to be a long afternoon. “Thank you,” she mumbled as she opened the bottle to take a long swig of water. She leaned back and closed her eyes, resigning herself to the fact that she was going to have to answer questions after ignoring his texts for weeks.

  “You’ve been avoiding my text messages and calls,” Logan said, his voice oozing with disappointment. “It’s not a big deal to dismiss me, just be an adult and tell me to go to hell.”

  “Not replying wasn’t hint enough that I didn’t want to be bothered?”

  “Nah, I’m a verbal type of guy. I need to hear it. By the way, you look like hell.”

  She rolled her eyes and fought back the nausea rising in her throat. “Funny you’d mention how I look since I’m not the snow-white type you prefer.”

  Logan folded the cuff on his chef’s jacket. “I still want to kick myself for sending that text. Look, I want to apologize, Nikki.”

  “Then, kick yourself for me, Logan.” She sighed. “You’re wearing chef’s gear, so you have a booth inside unattended. Please, don’t feel you have to sit here with me.”

  “My booth is okay, and it looks like you could use a bit of food.”

  The thought of food increased the unpleasant taste in her mouth. “I can’t put any food in my stomach right now.”

  He laughed. “You need food to soak up the alcohol. Most people eat first and then visit the wine and beer booths.”

  “I really want to be alone.”

  “That’s not happening. You might assume I’m a jerk, and that’s okay. However, I will not leave you outside on a bench, vulnerable and open to predators.”

  “I’m on a bench waiting for the bus to go home,” she said, raising her voice.

  “Damn, you’ll be here for a while since that sign indicates there is no bus service at this stop on weekends.”

  Nikki looked at the sign, double-checking to make sure he wasn’t lying. How could she have not seen that? Now she totally looked like an idiot. She drove everywhere and had not been on a bus in years. She could walk over to the square and catch a train, if they were still running, or call a taxi to save face.

  She lied instead
. “I saw that. I’m waiting for a cab.”

  Logan stretched out his legs and crossed his arms over his chest. “Cool. I’ll wait until it gets here.”

  Nikki turned her back slightly and removed her phone. Holding it low in her hand, she searched the number for Yellow Cab; dialing it would be easy, but speaking to a dispatcher would be a difficult task with him sitting so close.

  “You’re not waiting for a cab, Nikki.”

  “Yes, I am!”

  “Then why are you looking up the number?”

  “Cause it's late and I’m calling to check the status. Don’t you have other stuff to do?” she asked and began to feel a little guilty for wanting to sit in total silence when Logan was supposedly doing her a favor.

  He lifted his hands, examining his fingernails. “Nope; I’m good. In fact, I can get out of this hot garb.” He unbuttoned his jacket and pulled it off.

  Nikki had to admit Logan was breathtaking. His broad shoulders filled out the white cotton t-shirt that fit his body, outlining defined abs underneath. She exhaled at his closeness, thinking a man who could perform in the two most important rooms in the house was a must.

  “Please go. I’m having a bad day, and I’m not a drunk.”

  “Want to talk about it? I’m a good listener.”

  “Is that all you’ve been told, Logan?” See, if he had he left like she had asked, her mouth wouldn’t be running at full throttle. “I’m sorry, I did not mean to say that.”

  “I think you did.”

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Nikki mumbled as she pulled the strap of her purse across her lap, using it as a security object. It wasn’t Logan’s fault that she didn’t trust herself around him. It was hers.

  A large drop of rain fell from the sky, landing on her forehead. “I don’t mind a warm summer rain,” he said softly. “When I was a kid, my parents used to let us play in the rain as long as it wasn’t lightning. We’d have so much fun splashing in the puddles; they’d join us. Can you imagine two grown people playing in water puddles with two rambunctious boys? Those are the childhood memories I miss the most. What about you?”