If anyone ever doubted the love I had for my family, they don’t now. I really will kill for those I love and I proved it when I shot Gunnah. Messing with my family is like asking to die. There’s no one who will keep me from protecting me and mine and that’s straight up.
***
I haven’t been the same since my brother died. He was really the only family I had left and watching him die was hard on me. I haven’t heard from Terrell since he murdered my brother and I wouldn’t be sad if I ever saw him again. I wanted him to pay though. As stupid as my brother was, he didn’t deserve to die. On top of that, Terrell used me to set him up. I led my own brother right into his trap. He used me as bait and I fell for it like a dumb ass. Part of me wanted to kill myself for being so dumb and foolish. I shouldn’t have never put myself in that position in the first place. It only made things worse.
I went to the bathroom and shut the door behind me. I opened up the package and stared at it. I had been feeling strange lately and there could only be one reason behind it. I bought three of them and the first two were displaying the same result. Third time’s the charm, I told myself, and waited for the results to show. Just like the other two the test showed two lines. I was pregnant and guess who the baby’s father was. I had him now. He was stuck with me and I wasn’t going to let him out of it. I was planning to make his life hell.
I took out my phone and dialed his number, he ignored it the first time so I kept calling until he answered.
“What do you want Candace?” he asked and then added. “I don’t want nothing to do with you.”
“Too bad Rell. I’m pregnant and it’s yours,” I blurted out. He paused on the phone. I could just imagine the look on his face.
“You sure it’s mine? You were already just trying to distract me. You sure you didn’t sleep with anyone else since you faked your love for me,” he asked.
“Faked? I really did start to fall for you,” I yelled at him and then calmly stated. “Look, the baby is yours and I’m keeping it.
Then I hung up in his face. If Terrell thought he was going to get out of it that easily, he had another thing coming.
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LOVE & SOUL FOOD
Shantel Johnson
© 2015 Sensual Ink Publishing
“Damn, girl! You really put your foot in this!” Daneka exclaimed as she bit into her best friend's spicy fried chicken. The skin was crispy, it had the right amount of seasoning, and the meat on the inside was so moist. Bianca smiled, proud of her work and the reaction it got from her friend.
“Glad you liked it. I was trying something new with the spices, trying to get ready for the big day.”
The big day. That was all Bianca could even think about. In just a few short days she would be cooking in front of the owner of the restaurant she worked at, Serenity. If she could get the owner to recognize her cooking talents she could be promoted to at least sous chef, but what she was really striving for was executive chef. Having the final decisions on menu planning and quality control of food would be a tough job but Bianca knew that she could do it. Through her experience of cooking for her family and the multiple restaurant jobs she had, to watching her favorite cooking shows, she knew she would be able to handle it. Bianca had even been planning new and exciting things for the restaurant once she heard that Vincent Hayes would be looking for up-and-coming chefs to promote at his restaurant.
“Are you worried at all? You must be pulling out all your hair tryin’ to make everything perfect,” Daneka said.
“Girl, you know I am. If I don’t get promoted, I’ll be stuck doing the same ol’ thing I’ve been doing for the past five years. Don’t, get me wrong—I love cooking—but our menu needs to be updated. We need to do something different every once in a while, or else we get the same clients, the chefs lose interest, and it just ends up being monotonous. And right now, all we serve is some uppity white people food. I need us to have flavor, some soul. Things that will get people coming in the door, saying that the food is high quality but feels like home. Something your mama did, you know what I mean?”
“Yeah, I get you. I can’t afford that nice place you work at but I would sure as well go if you had this chicken on the menu. You need to make, like, your bomb-ass cornbread too. You can make that shit real fancy, I bet. Like you could put all kinds of stuff in it! Write that down! that’s a good idea.”
Bianca laughed. “You got a point there, I’ll keep it in mind.” She took a bite of her own creation and sat back to savor the flavor. “You really think I got a shot?”
Daneka rolled her eyes. “Don’t be stupid. You know you do. You a better cook than my mama—but don’t tell her I said that. I don’t need her whoopin’ my ass.”
Bianca laughed. She could just imagine what Daneka's mother would do if she found out that her daughter admitted than Bianca was the better cook. Though it was true. She was a better cook than most people in the neighborhood. She had her grandmama to thank for that.
Ever since Bianca could reach the stove, her grandmama was teaching her how to spice things, sauté greens, get the flavor from ham, and heat the oil so that it wouldn’t burn the chicken when it fried. Bianca even had a picture of her grandmama hanging up in her small apartment kitchen. Seeing her watching over the place she loved so much gave her inspiration and courage to do the things she wanted to do. And Bianca was damn sure her grandmama would be proud to see her wearing that executive chef uniform soon.
Bianca sighed and took a moment to imagine what her grandmama would say, when she would tell her the good news. It had been almost six years since her passing, but the longing for her love grew stronger everyday. Tonight, just before she went to sleep, she would pray that her grandmama would watch over her and grant her the strength to get this promotion. And she knew that Grandmama wasn’t gonna let her down.
***
Bianca’s stomach was doing sorts of flips and turns as she stepped into Serenity that day. It was only nine in the morning, but already the kitchen was bustling. Everything had to be prepped for the lunch rush that would be coming in just a few short hours. But most importantly, Bianca knew that the other chefs who wanted the promotion had already begun to work on their dishes to present to Vincent.
She rushed to the kitchen, moving past servers that were setting up tables, folding napkins, and placing silverware. A wave of spices hit her nostrils as soon as she got into the kitchen. The other two chefs, her competition, were hard at work. Hasmid, the Indian immigrant who was classically trained in France specialized in a weird combination of French and Indian cuisine that somehow always managed to work. His ideas were out-of-the-box and incredibly delicious. He was Bianca’s toughest competition.
On the other hand, there was Veronica. The two women never got along, not since Bianca stepped into the kitchen two years ago. The way Bianca saw it, Veronica was a money-hungry whore who wanted to fuck her way to the top. There ain’t nothing wrong with that, but Bianca was damned if she let Veronica win over her.
She didn’t work as hard as Bianca did. Bianca didn’t get the fancy French school—hell, she never even went to culinary school. All her food came from her heart, her soul, her culture. Every last bit of it was poured into her meals when she created something. She just had to put in a little extra love today to make Vincent see how incredible she was compared to the other two.
Bianca didn’t say a word, just got to work pulling down saucepans, cutting boards, and knives. She only had about three hours to get things ready. Once Vincent came and tasted the meals, then they’d be on the line cooking for the lunch rush. There were no breaks today. Bianca had to go hard.
The sound of flames rising from the stovetop excited her. When the oil hit the bottom of the heated pan, shivers went through her. Every time she cooked, she felt all the passion and excitement she ever had fill her up. Nothing could ever top that.
The smells of pig fat wafted around her as she began cleaning
and chopping her collard greens. Veronica looked over at her and made a stank face. “What are you making? Some country bumpkin’ food?”
Bianca stared at her knife, for a moment contemplating cuttin’ that bitch right up. “It ain’t none of your business what I’m cookin’. You should worry about your own food. Something smells like it’s burning.”
Veronica looked around and saw that the garlic she was sautéing was becoming too brown. “Shit!” she exclaimed, turning off the fire and taking the pan to the sink to wash. Rookie mistake. Veronica had no business trying to be all up in Bianca’s face. All her worrying would just keep setting her behind. But Bianca had no problem with that. Veronica could fuck up all she wanted. That would only leave her to take the lead and get right up there with Hasmid.
The clock overhead seemed to tick by faster than she wanted it to. The fat was rendering, collards wilting, chicken breaded, macaroni boiling. There was so much to do but she had to concentrate. Soon, the front door would open and she would hear that—ding!
All three competing chefs looked up, through the pick-up window, and saw him walking in. Bianca had only seen Vincent once, in passing. But now that she could see him clearly, he took her breath away. His thick black hair was slicked back, showing off his beautiful green eyes. His lips curled into a perfect smile as he headed towards the kitchen. He looked so excited to be back in his restaurant. It was like he was home again.
Bianca’s heart skipped a beat or two when she saw him getting closer. All her confidence and calmness fell quickly, she could almost see it shattering like a porcelain plate as it hit a tiled floor. In just a matter of seconds, she was flustered. Her mind was racing, and she didn’t know where she had left off. Seeing Vincent made her nervous.
On top of being absolutely gorgeous, he was about to taste her food for the first time. Her food, not the food she was made to cook, not his recipes, but her food. Sweat beaded on her forehead and she wiped it away with her towel, hoping and praying to the Lord above that none fell into the food. Her knees were shaking, and she felt so hot—like she was going to pass out at any second.
Bianca don’t know what possessed her to look, but she did. She could see Veronica talking to Vincent all smooth, rubbing against him like the big flirt she was. Flirting wasn’t gonna get her the job…or maybe it would. Bianca didn’t want to think about that. She couldn’t. Anything but that. She had to regain her focus.
She was just getting back into her groove when she heard a deep voice behind her.
“This smells absolutely amazing.”
Bianca froze as their eyes met. There he was. Her billion dollar man, well…she…her boss. Her billion dollar boss. Remember Bianca, you aren’t Veronica. Get yo’ shit together! He’s just another guy. A totally handsome, sexy, seductive, talented and rich guy. It ain’t no big deal.
Except it was a big deal and she knew it.
Her mouth was making all kinds of small sounds but none of them were words. She was losing her voice and acting like a damn fool in front of the very person she needed to impress. He was staring at her as if she was stupid, which was not something she wanted. Finally, her voice perked up just enough to say, “Thank you.” But that was it. He had already moved on and Bianca thought that her chance had already gone out the window. She felt as stupid as she thought she looked.
Vincent’s voice rang throughout the kitchen. “Alright guys, listen up! Twenty more minutes and I’ll be ready to judge your food. Make sure you don’t forget anything!”
She rushed to get her plate. Plating was important. Bianca had to make sure everything looked absolutely perfect. After all, people ate with their eyes before even putting food into their mouths.
With the last few minutes winding down, Bianca managed to plate her fried chicken—exactly the recipe she used for Daneka—collards, and macaroni and cheese with a drizzle of sauce on the side. The dish screamed of her roots. This was exactly who she was and who she wanted to be in a restaurant.
The three chefs carried their plates out to the dining area where Vince was seated. He greeted each chef by shaking their hand and inviting them to reveal their dishes one by one. Bianca though it was best to ignore what Vince said about the other dishes. She didn’t want to hear anything about what he thought of them. Besides, her eyes were too focused on the way his lips wrapped around the fork and the way his tongue slipped out to lick his lips when he was done. Everything about him seemed so sensual. She knew she was staring but it was hard not too. She didn’t even realize when it was her turn.
Bianca blinked and looked at the the other two plates that had gone unfinished. Vince was staring at her, waiting to hear what her dish was called and consisted of. Veronica tried to hide her snarky little laugh which only made Bianca stand up taller and speak.
“I made my grandmama’s Creole-fried chicken with a side of four-cheese macaroni and sautéed collard greens.”
“You think you’re going to get the promotion with this?” he asked.
“Why wouldn’t I? I made something that I love to make, not just something that I thought was fancy or would impress you. This food is who I am and nothing is going to change that, not even a promotion.”
As soon as she said those words, she wished she could take them back. Well, part of her did. The other part was glad that she stood up for herself. But at the same time she didn’t want Vince to think she was disrespectful or that she didn’t care about the promotion. But a small smile from Vince eased her eager thoughts just a bit. She watched as he bit into the chicken, just waiting for him to spit it out or something. The noises he made indicated otherwise.
“This is amazing. It’s crisp. The flavors really stand out and there’s something in the background, a spice. What is it?” Vince asked.
“Can’t tell you. It’s a family secret.” Bianca laughed.
Vince smiled at her. “I like you. And I like your dish. I think you have what it takes to be the sous chef of Serenity. What do you think about that?”
Bianca couldn’t help but jump up in excitement. “Yes! Yes! I’d love to be sous chef!”
Veronica rolled her eyes and stomped back into the kitchen like a child. Bianca couldn’t help herself. She went around the table and wrapped her arms around Vince. “Thank you so much. You don’t know how much this means to me.”
“You’re beautiful and talented. It would have been wrong of me to not have you as sous chef and represent my restaurant.”
Beautiful? Had he really said that? Bianca remained stunned as Vince continued on with business, his cheeks tinging a light pink. “We’ll have to set up meeting times to go over the menu and what you’d like to add to it. I definitely want this dish on there. We can create a new menu if you want to. I also want to show you some of my other restaurants, if that’s okay with you?”
“I’d love that…a lot.” Bianca smirked. Spending alone time with Vince was definitely something she wanted to do.
***
Bianca couldn’t believe she was in Italy. She also couldn’t believe that she had just flown in a private jet or that she packed up a bag and left behind her apartment for a whirlwind trip. Even though the flight was long, she got to spend the entire time talking to Vince, learning about him, how he got to where he was, and how amazing he was in general. Their lips met a few times on the plane, in between laughs and sips of champagne. His hand slipped to hold hers and Bianca had to admire the contrast of their skin tones. She laughed because she thought her hand looked like chocolate over a marshmallow.
“This is amazing, Vince. I can’t…I just can’t believe it. I’ve never been anywhere outside the States,” she said as the plane touched down and she saw the city lights surrounding the airport.
“Really? Well I’m glad I took you then. A beautiful girl like you deserves to see a beautiful city like this.” Vince smiled.
Bianca had to look away. Her stomach was fluttering, and her heart was beating fast again. Vince probably had no idea what kind of effect h
e had on her. He drove her crazy. No one had ever treated her the way he did. Vince made her feel like a queen, a goddess he worshipped. All that time they spent together creating the new menu had ignited a spark between them. And now, here she was in a country she never even dreamed of seeing, feeling like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman—minus the hooker part.
The plane door opened and the stairs were lowered. Vince went first so he could hold Bianca’s hand and help her down.
“What are we even doing here, Vince?” she asked.
“I wanted you to see my restaurant here. I wanted you to see how it worked and I thought that maybe we could have a nice night together. Come on, the limo driver is waiting to take us to the hotel.”
Limo driver? Bianca looked up ahead and saw the long stretch limo before her. A suited driver had the door open, waiting for them to get in. “This is way too fucking surreal. I can’t even believe this. How—well, I mean, I know how you can afford this—but this is crazy!”
“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself. Please, get in. I’ve got a lot of things planned for us.”
“Oh yeah, like what?” Bianca couldn’t help but ask as she got into the limo.
“I want to wine you and dine you. Take you on a walk along the coast, show you the city. But all in due time.” Vince joined her in the limo and shut the door. He spoke to the driver in Italian, and soon they were on their way to the hotel.
“I didn’t know you could speak Italian,” she gushed.
URBAN: In Love with A Boss Nigga Page 41
