Page 2 of Taming a Menace

“It must seem so silly to be having an anniversary dinner alone. I forgot all about this dinner until I got the email reminder. I was able to change the address, but the reservation was nonrefundable. None of my friends were able to come by to join me. I kind of figured I needed to do something that was just for me anyway. I even got dressed up which I haven’t done since the night I left him. ”

“And you look beautiful,” I blurted.

My outburst was rewarded with a soft smile that caused an unfamiliar stirring in my belly. I wasn’t hungry at all, but my stomach was doing somersaults. Iyla needed to know how beautiful she was, even with a broken heart.

“Thank you.” She blushed.

“I don’t think it’s silly to want to do something for yourself. I think it’s commendable. Too many women ignore the importance of doing things for themselves.”

“Thank you again.”

I shook my head. “You don’t have to keep thanking me.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. Just sit back and enjoy yourself while I show you a good time tonight,” I said.

“I can do that,” she replied with a nod.

I wanted my words to have a double entendre, but honestly they didn’t. I wanted to make her feel better just as much as I wanted her on all fours on the counter while I explored every one of her holes. There was no use for wishful thinking in this space.

She was nursing a broken heart, and I had a one-way ticket up the river.

Tonight, both of us had things we would rather push to the back of our minds for a few hours.

Distraction. That’s all I wanted to provide for her.

With that in mind, I went back to work whipping up the sauce for the salad.

The scallops were almost ready, and the glaze smelled lovely.

Her heels clacking on the floor as she walked further into the kitchen revealed that she’d put on her shoes while I was hypnotized in the depths of her eyes. The heels made her thick legs impossibly long. I wanted them around my neck.

Her ass sat up just right in that dress, making me shake my head for no reason other than having no other words to say. I found it hard to concentrate with my eyes on her, so reluctantly I ripped them away and put them back on the task at hand.

“Do you drink on the job? I need a stiff one,” she mentioned.

Clearing my throat, I forced myself to look at her again. I had something good and stiff for her, but it wasn’t of the alcoholic persuasion. This wasn’t going to be as easy as I thought it would be.

“What do you have? If it’s wine, that’s a no.” I chuckled.

“What about a thirty-year-old scotch?” she questioned.

Whistling, I shook my head. “That’s right down my alley. Am I on candid camera?” I asked, looking around with a growing smile.

I loved aged scotch. I loved scotch anyway, but for a beautiful client to offer me expensive scotch while I plotted on how to get those butter smooth thighs on my shoulders felt like a dream.

“Not at all. I love a good scotch,” she clarified.

“You and me both. I have a couple of bottles that I’ve been waiting to crack. Haven’t had much to celebrate lately,” I commented.

“This was supposed to be an anniversary gift for my ex, along with a scotch tasting that I was thankfully able to cancel.”

“Scotch tasting? I didn’t even know they did stuff like that. I need to look into it.”

“Yeah, they have a couple in the area. He got me into scotch. I used to be a tequila girl,” she said, pouring a generous amount of the scotch into a snifter and pushing it in front of me.

“If you expect me to cook, you probably should give me a lighter pour.”

She giggled, bringing to mind flashes of a time of happiness and peace. Although the sound of her laughter was unfamiliar, it seemed to unlock core memories. My eyes tracked her movements as she swept a stray hair from her face.

Her short hair was cropped close on the sides.

The wispy bang fell just above her eyes, making her look sultry and mysterious.

I had never been a fan of short hair, but on Iyla it worked.

Somehow her short cut made her appear even more feminine.

I’m sure she would have been just as stunning with a bald head.

I loved how the short hair put her bone structure on full display.

I couldn’t get over just how gorgeous she was.

“Sorry, I promise I’m not trying to get anyone drunk other than myself. I’m not trying to take advantage of you, Key,” she said as she perched on the stool across from where I stood.

“I feel you. Don’t worry, you’re in good hands. Drink up. I won’t let you hurt yourself in those sky-high heels.”

“Thank you, but I can handle my liquor,” she assured me.

“That’s what I like to hear.” I smirked.

“Can you say the same?” she quizzed, sliding the second glass over in front of her and adding a splash of the drink before pushing it closer to me.

“We don’t want to find out while I’m cooking. Do we?”

“Not if it means you’re going to ruin dinner.” Her crooked smile weakened my knees.

“I haven’t drank much lately, so I consider myself a lightweight.”

“Noted.” She nodded. “So what’s on the menu?”

“For an appetizer, I’m serving pan seared scallops over a baby spinach salad with a spiced pomegranate glaze.”

“Ooo that’s interesting. I love scallops.” She enthused.

Turning to the stove to top the salad with a couple of scallops straight from the pan, I plated them then returned to the island to put Iyla’s plate in front of her.

“Eat up,” I instructed.

“That’s the name of your company. Eat Up with Key.”

“You would be correct.”

Iyla smiled. Her genuine smile loosened something in my chest that had been tight for a long time.

She made me feel light. So much so that I felt woozy.

It was like I was high, but I hadn’t smoked in a few days.

While she enjoyed her food, I moved in silence making sure that the main course was on point.

I wanted to do something to get that hint of sadness out of her eyes.

Knowing that she was heartbroken gave me a sense of urgency.

I needed to do everything in my power for the next couple of hours to make her feel better.

I was so absorbed in my task that I didn’t notice that she’d finished the salad until she was standing to top off my drink.

“That was absolutely delicious, Key.”

Confirmation. No matter how long I had been cooking, it always felt good to be complimented. Coming from her, it seemed even more important.

“Thank you, beautiful.”

“It definitely whet my palate. If that’s the appetizer, I’m looking forward to the main course.”

“Let’s hope I don’t disappoint,” I said, lifting the glass and throwing back the shot she’d poured for me.

“I need to excuse myself to the little girls room. You just take your time. I’m in no rush at all. I don’t have anywhere else to be tonight,” she said, rolling her eyes before turning and walking away from the counter.

Once she was out of the kitchen, I was back on a mission.

It was supposed to be an anniversary dinner, so I’d brought along candles to help set the mood just in case.

I moved over to my trunk and pulled out the candles along with the roses I brought and the rest of the ingredients to make dinner and dessert.

The carrots were almost done roasting. I made a blackberry compote then set half aside to use for dessert.

The duck breast wouldn’t take any time to prepare on top of the stove.

After getting them into a sizzling hot pan, I went to work lighting candles and placing them strategically on the island.

When the candles were in place, I picked up the slender vase from my tote and added a single rose.

Satisfied with my quick set up, I refilled her empty glass then moved back to the stove to finish cooking.

“Key.” Iyla’s gasp caused me to turn and face her.

There it was. The antidote to the cracks filling my chest. Her smile. A smile so wide and bright it almost split her face in two. I was addicted after only one hit. Anything to keep that smile on her face, I would do.

If she asked me to throw all the food I’d prepared out and start from scratch, I would snatch that pan off the stove and dump it in a heartbeat. She moved closer. The clacking of her heels didn’t stop until she was back on her perch on the stool.

“I love this set up. This was so thoughtful.”

I chuckled. “It was nothing.”

Aside from taking next to no effort, it was nothing. Nothing was too much for her tonight or ever.

“It’s really cute. I didn’t even think of candles and for sure I wasn’t expecting flowers. Where did this come from?”

“My trusty kit,” I said, motioning with my head.

“Let me find out that thing is bottomless.”

I tittered. “It feels like it sometimes.”

With those words, I went back to the mission of finishing her meal. While I sliced and diced and seasoned, Iyla sat at the island sipping her thirty-year-old scotch and watching me the whole time.

“You cook like it’s personal,” she noted.

“It is.”

“How long have you been cooking?”

“Since I was eight, so about twenty-five or twenty-six years.”

“Wow, when I was eight, I was using an Easy-Bake Oven.”

“Funny story. My mom bought me one for Christmas one year. My brothers clowned me so bad.” I laughed.

“I bet they did.” She giggled.

What the hell was with this giggling? It literally made me dizzy to hear her giggle, but there I was thinking of a way to hear it again. I took a deep breath before opening the oven to remove the carrots.

They smelled delicious, and I knew the gingery rub I put on them would taste amazing with the blackberry and orange reduction.

I plated the duck breast and roasted carrots before covering them with a healthy amount of the berry and citrus compote.

I made sure the plate looked good before moving around the island to place it in front of her.

“This looks so good,” she said, doing a little dance in her seat.

There was something about food that made women dance. It was one of the perks of the job.

“Dig in and find out.”

“I feel like such a pig with my fat self eating in front of you. My mama didn’t raise me like that.”

“Don’t feel bad. People eat in front of me all the time. I’m a chef, Iyla.”

“I know but it still feels weird.”

“It shouldn’t, and stop calling yourself fat. A real man likes a woman with some meat on her bones.”

“Sorry.”

She lowered her eyes, causing me to reach out and bring them back to mine where they belonged.

Her eyes on me made my chest hurt. I didn’t know I was moving until my lips were on hers.

I kissed her. Just once. Her plump lips were as soft as I imagined.

She tasted like a mixture of mint and the sweetness from the pomegranate.

I wanted more, but my better judgment kicked in.

Plus, she looked stunned. That brought me back to reality.

“Fuck,” I cursed under my breath. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

I snatched away, forcing myself to put some distance between us. Every step toward the stove was more painful than the last. I wanted to be close to her. Her warm vanilla perfume was magnetic. Now that I’d touched and tasted her, I was thirsty for more.

“Don’t apologize. It’s been too long since a man made me feel desirable.”

Instead of responding, I kept my eyes on the stove where I was turning the rest of the blackberries into a topping for dessert. There was no reason for her to feel anything other than wanted and beautiful. I wanted to correct that. It wasn’t my job though. Cooking for her was.

The dinner I’d just served was my job for the night. I couldn’t drag her into my world. I didn’t even know how long I would be gone. She would have been crazy to get involved with a man about to go to prison.

The nigga who broke her heart had really done a number on her self-esteem. There was no universe in which Iyla wasn’t absolutely beautiful. It stung to hear her say she felt undesirable. The effects cheating had on a woman sometimes ran deeper than they cared to admit.

There was no telling what kind of damage lie dormant inside the woman who I’d already decided was too good for me in the first place. What the hell did a woman like her want with a thug like me? I couldn’t come up with a good answer, so I did the one thing I knew I was good at. I kept cooking.

“Have dinner with me,” she requested, interrupting my racing thoughts.