Spicy (Palate #1) Read online

  For a brief moment I was actually touched by his concern for me. There was something kind of sweet about the way he’d warned me, like he really cared about my well-being. Then I realized it was probably just a liability issue. Of course he didn’t want anyone to fall and get injured because then he might get sued.

  Amanda caught up with me just as I was walking into the kitchen. One of the busty blondes from earlier stormed past us with an ugly scowl warping her pretty face. “That asshole must have a limp dick to not want a piece of this!” she snarled indignantly, half to herself.

  My eyes widened and I tried to suppress my laughter. Was she referring to Gavin?

  Beside me, I felt Amanda’s body stiffen, relaxing only after the snooty blonde disappeared from sight. “And then there was one,” Amanda whispered under her breath so that only I could hear. “No big loss if you ask me.”

  “Do you know why she quit?”

  Amanda shrugged as she sidestepped the broken glass on the floor, her dress hiked up around her ankles so as not to get dragged through the spilled drinks. “I’m not sure. I prefer to keep my head down and do my job,” she told me. “It’s much easier that way. I’ve had enough drama in my life already, thank you.”

  That piqued my curiosity, but there was no time to dig deeper. I picked up a tray of fresh drinks and quickly made my way to the VIP room – or at least as quickly as I could without spilling anything. I cursed my vanity for prompting me to wear such a ridiculously high heeled pair of shoes. I felt like a tightrope walker in a circus trying to perform a trick without falling.

  “Don’t drop it,” I hissed under my breath, my eyes trained on the drink tray.

  It was only when I entered the VIP room and was standing in front of a group of young men that I finally looked up. Then I nearly did drop the drink tray because I was so surprised by who I saw. “You’re…you’re The Sex God!” I blurted out, unable to hide my shock.

  The handsome dark skinned man in front of me grinned, flashing teeth so white they were nearly blinding. He looked very comfortable, his arms laced behind his head and his legs stretched out in front of him as he reclined on the leather sofa.

  “If you say so,” he teased, giving me a playful wink before sitting upright and taking a drink off the tray. “What’s your name?” he asked before taking a sip.

  I didn’t get starstruck often but The Sex God was the biggest rapper in the country – perhaps in the world. His rise to stardom had been fast and furious, and he was so famous that even I knew who he was. He’d reached that special level of celebrity where it was all but impossible for anyone to not know who he was. To see him sitting right in front of me was jarring.

  “I’m Mina,” I replied as a few members of the hip hop artists’ entourage helped themselves to drinks. The immensely talented celebrity extended his hand courteously and I shifted the drink tray to the other arm so I could shake it. “Can I get you anything else?”

  Just then The Sex God’s phone started ringing. “Sorry,” he said before getting to his feet and stepping out into the hallway, “I’ve gotta take this. It’s my manager.”

  “You can get me something, baby,” one of the other guys in the room growled, sauntering up to me like he was a big shot. He was a scrawny little twerp wearing a wife beater, more gold chains than I could count and pants so low I was sure they’d fall down at any moment.

  I didn’t recognize him, nor did I understand why he was a member of The Sex God’s entourage. He was probably one of the hangers on you so often see in the media – that person determined to ride a celebrity’s coattails to fame. Usually it doesn’t work. Usually it’s just pathetic.

  I took a deep breath and reminded myself to remain professional. “What can I get you?” I asked, taking a step back as he moved closer. He seemed unsteady on his feet. Even from a distance I could smell alcohol and weed on his breath – a combination that took me back to the wild parties of my college days.

  “What are you offering?” he grinned, leering at me. No one else in the room seemed to be paying any attention to us. They’d gotten their drinks from me and now they were busy laughing and talking amongst themselves, likely unwinding after The Sex God’s concert or something.

  I was on my own.

  Wrinkling my nose in disgust, I took yet another step back until I was against the wall. “Not what you think,” I muttered, giving him a look that could kill. It wasn’t the first time a drunken idiot had approached me looking for something I wasn’t about to give him. It was unnerving, sure, but I was mostly just peeved.

  “Oh, you’ve got spunk!” he announced, his smile broadening. He had some type of grill in his mouth that made his teeth look like they were made of gold…or cheap imitation gold, anyway. It wasn’t exactly a turn on, nor was his crass behavior. “Hey,” he said, as though a brilliant thought had just occurred to him. “You want my spunk in you, sugar tits?”

  “Do you want me to knock you out?” I retorted, done with being professional. There’s only so much bullshit one can put up with, you know?

  Unfortunately it seemed my new little friend still didn’t get the not-so-subtle hint. “You’ve got nice eyes,” he slurred even though he wasn’t looking anywhere in the vicinity of my eyes. “And you’ve got great tits. I’d love to just bury my face in those babies…what are they, C cups? D? Mmm, come to daddy, baby.”

  Maybe he was too messed up to realize what an absolute pig he was being. But it didn’t matter…there was no excuse for behavior like that. When he reached out and pulled at the top of my dress in an attempt to cop a feel, I didn’t just push his hand away. I grabbed it, sunk my fingernails in and twisted his arm so hard he yelled out.

  The tray I’d been holding and the few remaining glasses on it clattered to the floor.

  The room fell silent. All eyes were on us as people tried to figure out what had happened.

  And of course at that moment, Gavin walked in.

  “What’s going on in here?” Gavin demanded as the annoying little twerp wobbled around and screamed profanities at me that could make a sailor blush. It might have been comical if it hadn’t been, you know, my life.

  “Shut up,” Gavin told him sternly in a no-nonsense tone. To my surprise, the guy immediately did as he was told. I knew the massively successful celebrity chef had a lot of pull in Hollywood thanks to all his cavorting about with the rich and famous but to see it in action was kind of impressive.

  “Mina?” Gavin asked, pushing past the irate drunk so he could get a good look at me. His eyes trailed down my body and lingered on my ripped dress. His jaw clenched and anger flashed on his face. I could see his fists balled up at his sides as though he was ready to strike someone.

  “What happened?” He probably already had a pretty good idea of the answer.

  “What does it look like?” I replied with a nonchalant shrug, trying to act like my heart wasn’t racing and adrenaline wasn’t surging through my body. “He got a little too friendly with me. I wasn’t so friendly back.”

  As though he’d just remembered what had happened, the douchebag with the low-hanging pants started ranting again. “That’s not what happened! The bitch attacked me!” he complained, waving his battered forearm in Gavin’s face. “See? It’s gonna bruise!”

  Part of me expected Gavin to fire me on the spot. After all, I was just a temporary employee, there because for some reason he’d decided to help me out. The guy I’d gotten in the altercation with, despicable as he was, had ties to one of the biggest music moguls in the country.

  To be honest, I wouldn’t have faulted Gavin for canning me…much.

  On the cooking show, Gavin was constantly reminding us that the customer is always right. The customer’s whims, desires and opinions need to take utmost priority. He was all about creating ambience and giving people an exquisite dining experience.

  Even though I’d had a damn good reason to defend myself the way I had, I assumed a guy like Gavin wouldn’t see it that way. He’d
only see that I’d made a situation escalate instead of diffusing it and had caused a big ugly scene. His only concern would be what bad press I might have stirred up and how it could impact his restaurant.

  Gavin looked livid. “Get out of my restaurant,” he growled. But he wasn’t talking to me.

  “I’m not going anywhere!” the rapper’s idiot buddy protested. “She’s the one you should be throwing out. She attacked me, man! Are you telling me you believe her version? She’s a liar. The stupid bitch practically ripped my arm off and I didn’t do anything –”

  His rant was cut short as Gavin slammed him up against the wall. The outline of the muscles in his arms was visible even through his suit jacket. He leaned in close and when he spoke next his voice was so quiet and so intense that I could barely make out the words.

  “You’re lucky a bruised arm is all she gave you. You’re scum for talking about her so disrespectfully and you’re scum for touching her without her permission. Now get your pathetic, scrawny ass out of my restaurant before I rearrange your face.”

  Palate had a security team stationed outside, of course. Such a popular restaurant in a trendy neighborhood necessitated bouncers. But Gavin didn’t call for backup. He had matters under control himself. He grabbed the guy by the collar and dragged him out of the VIP room with a ferociousness I’d never seen from him before.

  Something about that blatant display of unbridled testosterone would have been sexy under different circumstances. Maybe it was even a little sexy despite the circumstances. I wasn’t sure. My head was still spinning as I tried to process what had just happened.

  Once Gavin was gone, I stood there uncertainly, looking around as everyone in the room stared back at me. I swallowed hard, unsure of whether I should stay or leave. My dress was torn and I was sure I must look flustered. Just as I was about to step out, Gavin returned. With him was The Sex God and they were speaking seriously in hushed tones.

  “I want to apologize on behalf of that jackass,” the rapper said to me, looking sheepish and more than a little ticked off. “Believe me – he won’t be coming back here with me again. Gavin,” he said with a cordial nod, “I’m sorry for any trouble I’ve caused.”

  “You didn’t do anything wrong,” Gavin replied, emphasizing the first word of his sentence to get his message across loud and clear. He looked at me then and offered me his arm, completely brushing The Sex God off. “Let’s step outside.”

  Here and there, I’d caught glimpses of humanity and kindness in Gavin Rothe. They had been so fleeting that I’d wondered if I was imagining them. It wasn’t until we were standing outside the restaurant in the dimly lit back alley that I got my first good look at who he was.

  Funny how sometimes it takes darkness to see things clearly.

  Chapter 04

  Engines revved, car horns honked and sirens blared on the street, but I was deaf to all of it. Instead my attention was focused on Gavin. The expression on his handsome face was as unreadable as ever and it didn’t help that the only light in the back alley behind his restaurant was from the moon.

  “Why are we even out here?” I asked.

  Though night had fallen, the temperate was moderate, maybe even balmy if you’re used to New England winters. Inside the restaurant, it was easy to forget there was a world out there. Once you stepped through the doors of Palate, everything else seemed to disappear somehow.

  “Well if you’re going to accuse me of planning to bang you behind a dumpster, you’re sadly mistaken,” Gavin retorted at once. His tone was light and playful but there was an edge to his voice that told me he was shaken by the altercation inside.

  I blushed hotly, the reference not lost on me. Had I not been so embarrassed, I might have found the comment funny. Gavin actually had a pretty decent sense of humor if I was to be completely honest with myself – it was a bit twisted, as was mine. I looked at him sheepishly. “Look Gavin, about that…”

  “Forget it. I’m just teasing, but after the night you’ve had maybe I shouldn’t. Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.” I’d calmed down in no time. “It takes a lot more than that to rattle me,” I declared proudly. Maybe I was exaggerating a little. But it wasn’t like I was a helpless, hysterical woman having an emotional breakdown over some buffoon’s drunken antics. After all, I knew how to take care of myself.

  “Well it rattled me,” Gavin replied, surprising me with his admission. “You asked why we’re out here. Truthfully, it’s because I needed to step away. You have no idea how badly I wanted to pummel that moron. Instead I put him in a cab and sent him home while the paparazzi captured the whole thing on tape. I expect it will be all over the tabloids by morning.”

  “I’m…sorry?” It was the first genuine display of vulnerability I’d ever seen from him. To think that Gavin had gotten so worked up just because a crude drunk had come onto me way too strong was startling.

  “Don’t be.” At first I thought he was being kind, but then Gavin flashed me one of his signature smirks. “Any publicity is good publicity, or so I’m told. Although it’s probably a good thing I didn’t throw any punches with so many eyes on me.”

  “You’d beat him up for me?” I smiled at the thought. “That’s like…hardcore high school chivalry,” I said with a hint of mockery in my voice. Even though the mental image of Gavin beating some dude up to defend my honor was silly, it was also kind of nice.

  “It would appear you took care of beating him up yourself,” he replied wryly.

  “Don’t underestimate these muscles,” I replied, flexing and then immediately grabbing at the top of my torn dress to prevent what the Hollywood types liked to call a wardrobe malfunction. If Gavin saw more than I’d intended, he kept it to himself.

  “I can see you’re not a lady to be messed with,” he grinned.

  “Damn straight.”

  My muscles were actually one thing I liked about my post-baby body. Carrying my son around in my arms – especially when he was in mid-tantrum – was a great upper body workout. I was strong…stronger than I’d ever been before.

  “I shouldn’t have sent you in there alone knowing the state some of those guys were in,” Gavin insisted, clearly upset with himself. “Dealing with wasted celebrities isn’t exactly unheard of, but it’s my responsibility to keep my employees safe. I feel like I sent you into the lion’s den.”

  “Really, it’s no big deal,” I assured him. “It’s not like you knew that would happen. And hey, it’s not every day a girl gets to meet The Sex God. He seems nice, at least.”

  “He…?” Gavin teased, feigning confusion. “I assumed you were referring to me.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

  “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he replied with a wink. “But truly, I am sorry.”

  “No worries. All that happened is my dress got torn and some idiot’s pride got wounded.” I tried to lighten the mood by cracking a joke. “Usually my clothes don’t get wrecked until I take them home and my son colors on them with permanent marker.”

  It stung that my dress had been ruined after only a few hours of wearing it, but I’d learned a long time ago not to cry over spilt milk…or torn clothes.

  “You can pick out a new one,” he told me. “Take any dress you like. It’s yours.”

  “What? No, that’s too much,” I protested.

  He shrugged. “Most of my employees would jump at the chance to have a new designer outfit.”

  “Where would I wear a designer dress?” I pointed out. It wasn’t practical – not for my life.

  “Here.”

  I blinked. I’d thought my gig at Palate was temporary. “You’ll let me keep working here?”

  “Sure. Tonight was crazy but tomorrow night I’ll take my time with you. You want to run a restaurant someday, right?”

  I nodded. “I’m still figuring stuff out but I definitely want a career in the food industry,” I replied. “I know that much. And before you say it, no, not fast
food…”

  He chuckled. “What would you say to a private cooking lesson?”

  “Uh, yes,” I retorted as though that was the dumbest question in the world. After Gavin’s career had blown up, tons of people had wanted cooking lessons from him. He rarely obliged. Eyeing him suspiciously, I asked, “You do mean from you, right?”

  “Well yes, I wasn’t planning to fly Hayden Slate in to teach you,” he teased. “I’ll give you a private cooking lesson tomorrow night after closing. Consider it my apology. I owe you that much after what happened here tonight.”

  “Tomorrow night?” I repeated, deeply disappointed.

  “Is that a problem?”

  “Actually it is,” I said apologetically. “My son’s sitter is leaving town on vacation tomorrow right after my shift. I haven’t had a chance to interview backup sitters in the area yet, so there’s no one else I can call.”

  “So bring him.”

  “I can’t,” I replied at once.

  “No?”

  I shook my head adamantly. “He’s a holy terror, bless him. He’s like a tsunami of destruction. He’ll have your entire restaurant destroyed in thirty seconds flat, I kid you not. Actually, thirty seconds is probably underestimating his skills. It’s more like fifteen seconds, give or take.”

  Gavin chuckled. “Well now you definitely have to bring him. That sounds...interesting.”

  “Seriously,” I insisted. “You think I’m exaggerating but I’m not.”

  “That’s okay. I like a challenge.”

  The way he was looking at me in the moonlight made me think he was talking about something else. Suddenly I was aware of just how alone we were amidst all the commotion of the city. It was as though, in that moment, we were the only two people who mattered. The world went on around us, oblivious. I hadn’t felt that way in a long, long time and it left me tongue-tied.

  Gavin took a step closer. He lifted his hand and at first I thought he was going to caress the side of my face. I held my breath but he surprised me by plucking a leaf from my long raven hair. He held it out, showing it to me before releasing it to the wind. It flitted through the air, dancing away into the night.