by Tina Martin
Now that she was older, she knew what to look for in a man just like she knew the type of man to avoid. The showy, charming type who appeared one way in public, but behind closed doors, they were anything but. That didn’t mean all hope was lost. She was sure she’d find a decent man to share a cup of coffee with one day. For now, work took priority.
Chapter 2
Preston Michaels returned to the office after having lunch with his core team – something he liked to do to build rapport with his staff. The time gave him a better perspective on everyone in a laid-back environment without the seriousness of being in the office. It was time-consuming, usually took two to three hours or so, but since it helped with building working relationships, he stayed committed to it.
Walking down the hallway towards his office, he realized someone was in there or had been in there. He’d closed the door when he left, so who’d be in his office? It wasn’t Daphne, his assistant. She’d had lunch with them, too, and was still downstairs in the lobby.
He flashed a confused frown. Normally when someone wanted to see him, they’d make an appointment, reserve some of the already limited time on his calendar, or better yet, sit in the lobby and wait until he was back – not make a pop-up visit by actually waiting in his office. He didn’t do spontaneous meetings. Whoever it was would just have to wait and get in line, like everyone else.
He pushed the door open, ready to say just that when he saw his sister sitting in his chair.
Figures.
His expression softened. This wasn’t the first time Serenity had shown up unannounced, and he was sure it wouldn’t be the last. Since he was her older, single brother, she felt she had number one priority in his life. Therefore, she could interrupt him at any given time – even in the middle of a workday, knowing he would be there for her. Make time for her.
A small smile settled in the corner of his mouth. He would always be there for her no matter how busy he was because she was his sister, his only sibling, and he loved her dearly, even though she wore his nerves paper-thin.
“Hey, Serenity. What are you doing in my office?” he asked, but from the look on her face, he knew something was wrong.
“Have you seen this nonsense?” she asked, slamming a letter-sized sheet of paper on his desk.
Good to see you, too. Preston took a few steps, stopping just in front of his desk, peeling off his suit jacket in the process. “Serenity, what seems to be the problem?”
“This!” she said, angrily tapping her nails on the paper she’d placed there.
Preston shook his head. Five years his junior, Serenity was usually prim, proper and well-tempered until someone ticked her off. By the looks of things, someone had done just that. She had anger lines all over an otherwise pretty face.
Preston pulled in a deep breath before he finally picked up the paper she’d been so furious about. It was an article from Charlotte Magazine that she’d printed out – a review on her restaurant.
- - - - - - - - - - -
REVIEW: Central Grub House
Charlotte, North Carolina
By Tamera Alexander for Charlotte Magazine
Central Grub House, located on Central Avenue – a vein that runs through the heart of Charlotte, North Carolina – is a family friendly eatery specializing in American cuisine. I dropped by for a review after months of putting it off and had someone warned me about the food at this place, I would’ve put it off indefinitely.
Pause.
Let me take a breather.
I hate giving bad reviews so to balance this review out for you guys, I’ll give you some tidbits about what I enjoyed here. Central Grub House gets an ‘A’ for cleanliness. The restaurant is spotless, floors shiny, silverware so clean, you can see your reflection in your spoon. Skip going to the bathroom to check your lipstick, ladies. Just hold up a spoon and voilà.
Another bonus about Central Grub House is the wait staff. They are phenomenal. How this restaurant managed to get the best waiters and waitresses in all of Charlotte’s East side is beyond me, but they’ve done it.
Now, let’s get to the not so good part – the food. I wouldn’t say all the food is horrible because I haven’t tried it all. However, the food I did have makes bland taste good. As I mentioned, this place serves American cuisine. I ordered the braised chicken with mashed potatoes and along with the entrée came bread and a salad that I treated like an appetizer. So ‘lettuce’ start there. The salad wasn’t really what I would consider a salad. Do you know how people shred cabbage to make coleslaw? That’s how the lettuce for the salad was shredded. To add insult to injury, there was one, I repeat, one grape tomato thrown in it. I don’t know about you, but I like my lettuce in pieces, not lettuce that resembles shredded confidential documents. I also like my salad full of veggies – corn, tomatoes, cucumbers, carrots. Throw in some boiled egg pieces and shredded cheese and I’ll be your best friend. But this salad had one tomato.
The bread…it was good, but it was served cold. And then they had the nerve to bring me some prepackaged butter packets that were frozen solid. I couldn’t even spread the butter on the bread. Cold bread. Cold butter. What a disaster!
But wait…there’s more.
The mashed potatoes were hot. Looked promising. But I gagged when I tasted it. I imagine the mashed potatoes is what paper mache would taste like – you know that pulpy, starchy stuff you used to make art projects with as a kid in elementary school? Yeah. That.
And now for the main course – the braised chicken. I’m not sure if I can conjure up enough words to describe the nastiness of that chicken. It was so dry, I couldn’t swallow it if I wanted to. Just to clarify, I didn’t want to. I spit it out.
I’m usually not so harsh of a critic when it comes to bad food, but I am with braised chicken. Let me explain. Braising chicken is a two-step process. First, you have to sear the meat at a high temperature, then you place the meat in a pot with some sort of gravy mixture – something to give the meat flavor. You cover the pot and let the meat cook at a slow temperature to allow for maximum flavor infusion.
How can you go wrong with this method?
That’s why I’m critical. If you ask me, this meat was cooked too fast on high heat. Step two was missed completely, hence the lack of flavor.
In conclusion, Central Grub House is a clean restaurant but it’s not a place where you would actually clean your plate. But, don’t take my word for it. Try it for yourself. And if you walk out of there with the awful taste of disappointment on your tongue (like I did), no worries. There’s a Fuel Pizza across the street!
- - - - - - - - - - -
Preston lowered the paper to the desk and looked at his sister. “Okay. You got a bad review. Why are you all bent out of shape?”
Serenity’s mouth fell open. “Why…why am I bent out of shape? Seriously?”
“Yes. Seriously.”
“This is my job, Preston! My place of business. My baby.”
Baby. He hated it when people called their company or business their baby.
Preston slid his hands into his pockets. “Lower your tone. I understand all of that, Serenity.”
Insulted, she snapped, “So why are you looking at me like I’m stupid?”
“That’s not—”
“Yes it is,” she said cutting him off. She stood up from his chair and threaded her fingers into her silky, brown hair.
Preston shook his head. His sister made the term drama queen take on a whole new meaning. “Serenity, businesses, especially restaurants, get reviews all the time. Admit it—before you go out to some restaurant you’ve never tried, don’t you check reviews on Google, Yelp or Trip Advisor?”
“Not all the time, but when I do, guess what? I read the bad reviews first! That’s exactly what everybody else is going to do about my restaurant. Read this horrible, stanky review.”
Preston crossed his arms over his chest. “Please don’t tell me you’re gullible enough to believe everyone who dines at your place
is going to like it.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Okay, so back to my original question…why are you so angry about this particular review?”
“Because of the chick that wrote it,” was her response.
Preston picked up the article from his desk again, looking at the byline. “Tamera Alexander.”
“Yeah. She’s a Mecklenburg County restaurant health inspector. She actually did the inspection on my restaurant a couple of months ago. I guess she decided to come back and try the food and write this bogus review.”
“Wait, let me get this straight. This Tamera Alexander is a restaurant health inspector?”
“Yes. I got an ‘A’ the last time she came by.”
Preston frowned. “Isn’t that a conflict of interest for a restaurant health inspector to also be in the business of writing restaurant reviews for a major city magazine?”
Serenity shrugged. “Probably is. At least I hope it is. You think you can get her fired?”
Preston grinned. “Me? This lady hasn’t done a thing to me.”
“Well, she’s done something to me. She’s ruining my business and subsequently, my life.”
“Your life…” He threw his head back. “You always take things too far, Serenity, with your over exaggerations and unwillingness to let things go. Why not brush your shoulders off and keep it moving?”
“Because I’m tired of brushing stuff off. I want to stand up for myself. This isn’t right, Preston.”
“Actually, it is. It’s freedom of speech…the First Amendment, and if—”
“Why do you have to do this?” she interrupted him to ask. “I don’t need a history lesson.”
“Let me finish,” Preston said. “You’ve commandeered my office, had your time to rant, now it’s my turn. Anyone, at any given time, can write a review about your restaurant – good or bad. It’s their right. Everyone has a right to his or her opinion. If reviews bother you, don’t read them. But don’t let someone’s review deter you from focusing on what you love to do. You love running your business. Put your energy into that. You can’t live your life afraid of what people are going to say about you. You’ll never make progress that way.”
Serenity sighed. “But she’s a restaurant health inspector. Don’t you think her opinion carries more weight than the average person’s?”
“Okay, so maybe there is a conflict of interest here.” Preston inhaled a deep breath. “Um…let me talk to her since you obviously don’t want to. The article was just published a few days ago. I can probably convince her to take the review down as easily as she put it up…that’s if I spin it right.”
“I sure hope you can spin it, then,” Serenity said, sitting on his desk.
“You think I can have my office back now?” he asked, amused.
“Oh. Sorry,” she said, standing.
“How are things otherwise?” he asked her.
“Okay, I guess. I’ll be a lot better when this review comes down. Anyway, I’ll see you later, Pres. You’re not the only one who has to get back to work.”
“Okay. Later.”
Preston took the article from his desk again and scanned over it before folding it and sliding it into his shirt pocket. This certainly wasn’t a part of his plans. Now he had to pay Tamera Alexander a visit.
Chapter 3
Tamera stood up behind her desk, gathered three folders and placed them inside of her briefcase. She took her job as a restaurant health inspector seriously. Besides, she had nothing else to dedicate her time to. Why not give it her all?
Locking her briefcase, she gripped it, headed to the ground floor of the three-story building and passed through the lobby. She slid on a pair of sunglasses when she stepped outside, strutting across the sun lit parking lot to her car, wearing a black skirt suit – looked official. She liked looking professional when she visited a restaurant for an inspection. People respected you more when you looked the part. And those restaurant managers knew she wasn’t the one to be played with when it came to making the grade.
“Excuse me, Ms. Alexander.”
The deep voice nearly stopped her in her tracks, but since she had a restaurant to get to, she made it a rolling stop – slowed but kept on getting up. She’d barely glanced at the tall, well-built, light-skinned man, dressed nice in a suit, clean cut – the whole nine – but time was of the essence and he wasn’t important enough to use up any of hers.
“Ms. Alexander, may I have a minute of your time?”
Walking fast, she glanced at her watch. “No. You can have as long as it’s going to take me to get to that black Honda Accord right there,” she said pointing.
His brow creased at her dismissiveness. Keeping up with her steps, he said, “Okay, then I’ll give you something to think about while you’re out doing your inspections today.”
So he knows what I do for a living. And just what does he have to give me to think about? “Is this about an inspection?” she decided to ask.
“Yes and no,” he replied.
“Then you need to schedule an appointment like normal people do,” she said snippily.
Normal people. “Guess I’m not normal since I prefer talking to you right now. I only need a minute. What happens after that is purely up to you, Ms. Alexander.”
Standing at her car now, she didn’t unlock the door. She turned around, giving this handsome man her attention, noticing how genuinely attractive he was and that’s when she remembered she’d seen him before.
“Oh my God. It’s you. The guy from the restaurant the other night. You were staring at me.”
His eyes twinkled. “Guilty as charged.”
His brilliant smile nearly took her breath away. Wow! She thought he was handsome from afar, but standing right here, up close and personal with a smile that was as gorgeous as everything else about him had her mind swimming.
Preston didn’t say anything for a moment. He was entranced by this woman and knew who she was the minute she came out of the building. Small world. He found her uniquely beautiful the other night, which is why he couldn’t stop staring. Standing this close to her only reinforced his opinion. Seemed her short pixie haircut amplified her cheekbones, dainty nose and desirable lips. He took her all in, enjoying everything about her.
Tamera swallowed the lump in her throat. A man hadn’t gotten to her like this in a long time. She’d admit to being around some attractive guys. She worked with a bunch of them, most of which had asked her out. She turned them down because starting a relationship wasn’t in her plans. But, by the way her stomach fluttered just by looking at this guy, she wondered if she should reconsider.
Her face flushed as she held his vision. He was dressed like a businessman, so she assumed the six-feet tall, well-built man was just that. A businessman. A good-smelling businessman. A fine businessman. His dark black hair was cut perfectly. Even his crow-black eyes were powerful and attentive to her every movement. Whatever he had to talk about must’ve been important.
Tamera, don’t lose your bearings over this guy. Remember, the cuter they are, the more likely they’ll break your heart. And what are you even thinking? He’s probably married. Has a girlfriend. Married with a girlfriend or a side chick, side piece…whatever they call mistresses nowadays…
Collecting herself and putting on her no-nonsense business persona, she said, “Sorry, I didn’t get your name?”
“I’m Preston Michaels.”
Recognition dawned on her face. Preston Michaels? The same Preston Michaels that Tyson just mentioned to her? Said he worked for Charlotte Recreational and was the sister of Serenity Michaels – the owner of the restaurant she just reviewed?
“You’re Preston Michaels?”
“Yes.”
“Owner of Charlotte Recreational?”
“In the flesh,” he said, feeling somewhat proud she knew that already.
Her brows creased. “I thought you said this was inspection related?”
“It is.”
“A week ago, you wrote a review for Central Grub House.”
“That’s correct.”
“My sister, Serenity Michaels, owns that place.”
Tell me something I don’t know…
“Yeah. And?”
He smirked. It didn’t faze him in the least, but the attitude didn’t become her. Seemed like she was trying extra hard to force one. At any rate, he said, “I want you to delete your review off of Charlotte Magazine’s website.”
Tamera snapped her head back. “You may want me to delete it, but that’s not going to happen. Now, if you would excuse me…” she turned her back to him and proceeded to unlock her car door.
“Don’t you think it’s a conflict of interest to write reviews for the exact same restaurants you inspect, Ms. Alexander?”
“No, I do not.”
“Then maybe your manager would think otherwise.”
She turned around to him again. Eyes blazing with anger, she said, “You’re blackmailing me? You came to my place of employment to blackmail me?”
A grin settled in the corner of his mouth. “I’d like to see it as negotiating. Meet me at Central Grub House this evening. Seven o’clock, and since you recognize the importance of time, don’t be late.” With that, he turned and walked away without giving her time to respond – not that she would have. She was too shocked to respond. Her manager at the health department wasn’t aware of her part-time writing gig. If Irene got wind of it, she would probably tell her to quit the magazine.
Tamera sat in the front seat of her car, head swimming. “I can’t believe he’s actually blackmailing me,” she said out loud. But what would she do? What could she do? Deleting the article wasn’t a simple process. Just like the article required manager’s approval before posting, it required manager’s approval before deleting – a time-consuming, tedious process that managers didn’t want to be bothered with.
