Chapter 11
Tonya sat on the porch waiting for Gage to arrive. He had sent her a text to let her know he would pick her up around two-thirty. Just hearing his voice brought back images of them cooking, eating, and dancing together, while at the same time it reminded her just how long it had been, aside from Hannah’s wedding, since she had danced with a man. In fact, it had been almost a year since she had gone out on a date with Darius, because of his fluctuating work schedule.
She still couldn’t believe how much her life had changed in less than a week. She woke to the sound of birds instead of honking horns, sanitation trucks picking up garbage along her street, and an occasional slamming door and the voices of her fifth-floor neighbors.
The instant she’d closed the door to her apartment after a trio of men carried out the last box with her personal items to be shipped to DuPont House, Tonya had experienced an emotion bordering on anxiety. Doubt had crept in, making her question her decision to give up all she had in New York to move to start up a restaurant in a city known for its own unique cuisine.
Her anxiety was short-lived when, a week before Christmas, she picked up her new SUV and hugged Nydia while wishing her the best.
She drove south, stopping overnight in Charlotte, North Carolina, and then continued on to Daytona Beach, where she spent Christmas and celebrated the New Year with her parents. Samara called on both holidays, and although pleased to hear her daughter’s voice, Tonya had come to the realization that her adult daughter was exercising her independence for the first time. A sense of strength came to her during the drive from Daytona Beach to New Orleans as she remembered when she’d left the States to live abroad. She’d traveled without a companion and survived.
She was now a Louisianan, and not only would she survive living in a new state, but she was also confident she had made the right decision to go into business with Hannah.
A smile parted her lips as she recalled watching the video of Hannah and St. John’s first dance together as husband and wife. They were as graceful and fluid as professionals as they floated across the ballroom floor, much to the awe and shock of their guests.
It was as if Tonya had viewed the wedding, the cocktail hour, dinner, and reception through the eyes of the videographer, because he had captured expressions and nuances of everyone in the garden and ballroom. Her former apprehension that her gown revealed too much cleavage was belied when she stared at her image as Hannah’s maid of honor.
What she found blatantly obvious was Cameron Singleton’s entrancement with Jasmine when they danced together. Although Cameron was not a man whom she found attractive, she wasn’t ready to dismiss him as someone who could help Jasmine get over her ex-husband’s duplicity.
Jasmine had called her earlier that morning. Her voice was still raspy, but she wanted to let Tonya know she was feeling better and that Nydia was coming over to cook for her. Tonya did not know why, but she felt more like a mother rather than an older sister to Nydia and Jasmine—although she was old enough to be Nydia’s mother. When she had mentioned this to Hannah, Hannah explained it was because they both were mothers, and although their children were adults, their maternal instincts were always front and center.
Sitting there and waiting for Gage to come pick her up for their date, Tonya realized she liked him, although she felt they had not gotten off on the right foot during their first encounter, for which he had apologized. She had met so many men in her male-dominated field who would become combative rather than admit they were wrong.
Tonya stood up as she saw Gage’s SUV maneuver up the winding path and come to a stop in front of the house. He got out and met her as she descended the steps. It was impossible to see his eyes behind the lenses of a pair of sunglasses. However, his smile indicated he was glad to see her. Her gaze lingered on the slight cleft in his strong chin.
“Hey, beautiful,” Gage crooned as he kissed her cheek.
At that moment Tonya felt beautiful as she leaned into him, savoring his warmth and strength. She had gotten an appointment with the stylist who’d cut her hair for Hannah’s wedding, tipping her generously for her handiwork.
“How are you?” she asked breathlessly.
Gage eased back, his smile still in place. “Better, now that I see you again. You look incredible.”
She inclined her head. “Thank you.”
Tonya had been in a quandary when she couldn’t decide what to wear: slacks, dress, or skirt. Garments were piled high on her bed before she decided to go with a long-sleeved black sheath dress with an asymmetrical neckline; the dress ended at the knees and hugged every curve on her body. She’d tried on several pairs of shoes and in the end slipped her bare feet into a pair of three-inch-heel black leather pumps. She had also applied a light cover of makeup to accentuate her eyes and mouth.
“Do you have to get anything before we leave?”
She raised her left arm, from which dangled a wristlet. “Everything I need is in here.”
“Do you always travel this light when you go out with a man?”
“It all depends on whether I’m forced to bring pepper spray or a Taser.”
His expression changed, suddenly becoming grim. “I hope you’re teasing.”
Tonya rested a hand on his shoulder. “I am.”
His eyebrows lifted behind the glasses. “You had me worried for a minute,” he said as he assisted her up onto the passenger seat.
She waited until Gage was seated and belted in, then said, “Thankfully, I’ve never been in a situation where I had to fight off a man because he didn’t want to believe that no meant no.”
Shifting into drive, Gage gave her a quick glance. “Good for you, because I’ve heard stories from women who weren’t as lucky.”
Tonya stared through the windshield. “Can you answer one question for me?” she asked after a comfortable silence.
“What is it?”
“Why do some men feel the need to force a woman to sleep with them when there’re some who are willing to give it up even without their asking?”
“I don’t know. It’s probably more about power and control. A woman who’s that aggressive has usurped the man’s power because he’s no longer in control.”
“A relationship shouldn’t be about one having control over the other, but mutual respect.”
Gage shot her a quick glance. “Is that what happened between you and your ex?”
Tonya closed her eyes as she recalled what Gage had said to her when he’d come to her house: I don’t want you to be tactful, Tonya. I want you to be outspoken—that is, if we’re going to have anything that resembles an honest and open friendship. And she did want an open relationship with Gage in which she could speak her mind and not have him judge her negatively, as Samuel had done whenever she attempted to talk to him about she wanted for their future.
“Yes.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Not now, because bringing it up will just put me in a bad mood.”
Draping his arm over the back of her seat, Gage caressed the nape of her neck. “That reminds me of the song from The Wiz: ‘Don’t Nobody Bring Me No Bad News.’ ”
“Amen,” Tonya intoned.
“Are you hungry?”
“Not really. I had breakfast around ten.”
“Was it an American or continental breakfast?”
“Moitié, moitié.”
Throwing back his head, Gage laughed loudly. “It can’t be half and half, Tonya. Either you went all in with grits, bacon, eggs, and biscuits or you had cereal, croissants, and fruit.”
Turning her head, she hid a smile. “I had a cup of cantaloupe along with a spinach, mushroom, and feta egg-white omelet.”
“Do you always use egg whites?”
“No. Hannah stocked the fridge for me before I arrived, so I decided to use them rather than whole eggs. What’s on the menu for dinner?”
“When you mentioned Asian Saturdays, I thought you could help me prepare a few Chinese dishes. I went online and pulled up recipes.”
Shifting on the seat, she stared at his distinctive profile. “What do you have in mind?”
“Dumplings, barbecue spareribs, orange beef, and fried vegetable noodles.”
Tonya was slightly taken aback. She had believed they were going to have a traditional Southern Sunday dinner, not Chinese. “What you want is more American than traditional Chinese.”
“Aren’t you going to offer Asian dishes most Americans are familiar with?” Gage questioned.
“Yes.”
“Then, that’s what I want you to help me make. To be honest, I haven’t had good Chinese food since I left New York.”
Tonya smiled. “No place can compare to New York when it comes to bagels, pizza, and Chinese food.”
“Now you’re preaching to the choir,” Gage said in agreement. “There’s nothing better than a slice of thin-crust Margherita pizza topped with fresh basil.”
An audible groan slipped past Tonya’s lips. “Stop or you’ll have me craving pizza.” It had been a while since she had had a slice of pizza, because one slice always led to two and sometimes three.
“Have you ever made pizza?”
“Yes,” she admitted. “I always make my own mozzarella, and use only San Marzano tomatoes for the sauce.”
“Damn, girl. You’re really good.”
“That’s because I took lessons from a master chef in Italy who lectured his students about taking shortcuts. He’d rip you a new one if you used ready-made sauce, even if it was highly recommended, for pizza. One time when I was in between jobs I helped a caterer friend prepare for a wine and cheese gathering, and we decided to turn it up a notch when we made individual pizzas topped with tuna and fresh salmon tartare, figs, and prosciutto. They were such big hits that another couple hired us and requested even more unorthodox toppings.”
“What did you make for them?”
“Crème fraiche and red onion confit, salmon caviar and lemon crème fraiche, spicy shrimp, and a few with deviled crab with a tomato rémoulade.”
Gage shook his head. “The caviar must have cost them a pretty penny.”
“It did. I had caviar once, and I must admit I wasn’t too fond of it.”
“I suppose it’s an acquired taste,” he said.
“You’re right about that. Do you have all the ingredients we need for our dinner?”
He nodded. “Yes. I managed to find everything at the French Market.”
“Did you decide on Chinese to test me?”
A smile ruffled his mouth. “Not really.”
“Either it’s yes or no, Gage.” Tonya waited for his answer as he signaled and turned off onto Esplanade Avenue, and then maneuvered down another tree-lined street and parked in front of a building with green-shuttered second-story windows and a fire escape leading from the second to the third story, both with decorative ironwork balconies.
Gage shut off the engine, unsnapped his seat belt, and then turned to face her. He removed his sunglasses, leaving them on the console between the seats. “No. I want you to test me. Don’t move,” he said. “I’ll help you down.”
Tonya undid her seat belt and waited for him to come around and assist her. Gage had called her an enigma, but she could say the same about him. Although she felt comfortable being with him, there was something about his mercurial moods that kept her slightly off balance. She found him candid almost to a fault, and then within seconds he would turn on the charm, making it nearly impossible for her to be angry with him.
He opened the door, extended his arms, and swung her effortlessly to stand on the sidewalk. She glanced at the building. “Which apartment is yours?”
Grasping her hand, he gently squeezed her fingers. “There’s only one apartment,” he said cryptically.
* * *
Gage knew he shocked Tonya when she went completely still. After his divorce he had rented a small furnished house in Tremé with the possibility that he would purchase it. His plans changed once he overheard a patron at Jazzes mention he wanted to sell his condo because he was moving his family to Austin, Texas. Gage approached him and asked if he could see the property.
A single glance at the rare Parisian-style garret located in the Lower French Quarter and he knew he wanted it even before entering the secure entrance leading to a lush, tropical courtyard. Once inside the three-bedroom, two-bath condo he found himself awed by the open floor plan, exposed beams, high ceilings, skylights, and Jacuzzi, while the upper floors offered views of the river, the city’s skyline, and many church steeples. He was able to negotiate a price to which the seller agreed, and two months later he moved in with only a bed and a folding card table and chairs.
He was totally clueless when it came to decorating and asked his mother whether she would decorate his new home. The first thing she asked him when walking through the empty rooms was whether he was thinking of getting married again; his response was a resounding “never again.” Desirée told him he was too young to be so bitter, and then gave him a look that dared him to refute her.
He unlocked the gate leading into the courtyard that spanned the width of the building and reached for Tonya’s hand. “This is what sold me on the condo even before I saw inside.”
The courtyard resembled an emerald city, with two towering trees, one an oak tree covered in Spanish moss and the other a red mulberry; ivy, and dozens of different ferns and flowering plants in massive clay pots. They provided shade and set the scene for beginning or ending the day in the verdant mini-jungle.
Tonya noticed strings of tiny globe lights and three lanterns suspended from the beams supporting the second-story balcony. Her gaze lingered on a gas grill and fire pit in a corner. “I see what you’re talking about. You have your own private Garden of Eden.”
Gage squeezed her fingers. “I come down here every morning to have coffee and read the newspaper. I now have birds to keep me company because a couple of weeks ago I installed a couple of feeders under the mulberry tree.”
She pointed to several hanging baskets overflowing with colorful orchids. “Do you also take care of the flowers?”
“Thank goodness, no, or everything would be dead within a month. Come inside with me.”
He led the way down the flagstone walkway to a door at the opposite end of the courtyard. Gage unlocked the door, and then tapped several buttons on a wall keypad to deactivate the security system. Despite the security cameras positioned around the building, and the gate leading into the courtyard, and bars protecting a wide window and the glass on the double doors on the street level, he felt a lot more secure after he had the property wired against potential intruders.
Gage stood aside, waiting for Tonya to enter, and then turned and closed the door. “Welcome to my humble abode.”
Tonya blinked once as her gaze swept over the living and dining rooms. “There’s nothing humble about this place.”
“You like it?”
She turned to meet his eyes. “I more than like it. It’s beautiful.”
He caught her elbow as she bent over to take off her shoes. “You don’t have to take off your shoes.”
Tonya had already slipped out of her pumps, leaving them on a mat. She unzipped the wristlet and took out a pair nonskid ankle socks. She walked on bare feet to a leather armchair and slipped them on, but not before he saw the bloodred color on her toes. He forced himself not to stare at her slim, shapely legs.
Leaving the wristlet on the chair, Tonya stood up. “Now I’m ready.”
“What else do you have in that little bag of tricks?” Gage teased.
“Just my cell phone and lip gloss.”
“No keys?”
Tonya shook her head. “I have an app on the phone that will activate the gate to the house.”
Gage slipped out of his shoes and left them on the mat next to Tonya’s. The only time he walked into the house without his shoes was after working at the restaurant. He always took them off and stored them in the room off the kitchen that doubled as the laundry and mudroom.
“Would you like to see the house first before we begin cooking?”
She smiled, dimples deepening in her cheeks. “Yes, please.”
He reached for her hand. “We’ll start upstairs and work our way down.”
* * *
Tonya enjoyed the warmth of Gage’s hand on hers as she walked up the winding staircase with wrought-iron railings that were so much a part of the city’s architecture. She marveled at the high ceilings, beautiful wood floors, and exposed beams throughout the house. The third-story bedroom nestled under the eaves of exposed beams was reminiscent of the garret bedroom she had occupied when she lived in France. He’d partitioned off an area for a music studio with an electronic keyboard, desktop computer, and built-in bookcases packed tightly with CDs. Tonya peered through a set of French doors opening onto the rooftop which held a trio of bistro tables and chairs.
Gage pressed his mouth to her hair. “I don’t entertain much, but I did host a rooftop party for some friends who’d come in from out of town last spring.”
Tonya nodded. Seeing the rooftop seating reminded her of the time she’d spent in Florence, Italy, where she and those in her cooking class had visited a restaurant and requested rooftop service. The experience was ethereal as she watched the sun set over the historic Renaissance city.
“Do you ever sit out here at night?” she asked Gage.
He nodded. “Not enough.”
Tonya registered the wistfulness in his voice, wondering if Gage’s life was so hectic that he did not have time to enjoy his home. She knew he was now a full-time teacher, played at Jazzes on Friday and Saturday nights, and occasionally helped Eustace with his catering orders, which left him with few precious hours to relax other than drinking a cup of coffee in the courtyard.
“If you don’t have time to help your brother with his catering orders, then I’m willing to step in for you.”
Gage turned her to face him, and rested both hands on her shoulders. “No, Tonya. You’re doing enough.”
“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that? If I don’t stay busy, then I’m going to lose my edge before it comes time for me to open my place.”
He leaned closer. “You’ll never lose your edge, because you’re a natural. When I asked you to make a pot of beef stock from scratch, you knew exactly what to do without hesitation. So, please don’t try and sell yourself short. Hannah told me you’re an incredible, innovative chef.”
She closed her eyes for several seconds. “You asked Hannah about me?”
Gage’s hands moved up to cradle her face between his palms. “No. When Hannah told me she was going to convert her home into an inn, she said it wasn’t going to be just a B and B. She said she also wanted to turn one of the guesthouses on the property into a restaurant and that she had already selected the chef she wanted to run it. She hadn’t mentioned your name, but said the chef had prepared meals for the bank’s employees and private clients, and as the assistant had more international experience than the executive chef. That’s why I was surprised when I found out you were that assistant chef.”
“Were you surprised her choice was a woman?”
His lids came down, hiding his innermost feelings from her. “Yes. And I was even more pleasantly surprised to find you so naturally beautiful.”
Tonya knew Gage was going to kiss her, and in that instant she wanted him to. He’d said she was beautiful, and whenever she was with him she felt beautiful, feminine, and desirable. Resting her hands on his chest, she leaned into his strength and warmth as his mouth covered hers in a tender, gentle joining; throwing caution to the wind, she surrendered completely to his expert seduction. She did not want to analyze whether he said what he had to gain her confidence so that she would sleep with him, but at that moment Tonya did not want to think about anything, just to enjoy the deep feeling of peace that entered her being—a peace that had eluded her for longer than she could recall.
Her arms curved under his shoulders, and she went on tiptoe to get even closer. She felt the heat of his body eddy down hers from her chest to the area between her thighs. She moaned as shivers of desire throbbed through her, and Tonya knew if she allowed Gage to continue to kiss her, she would beg him to make love to her. Then without warning he ended the kiss, both of them breathing heavily. She bit down on her lip as she waited for the pulsing in her nether region to subside.
Easing back, Tonya met his eyes. They were so dark, all traces of gray and green missing. It was obvious he was as aroused as she. Her gaze moved over his cropped hair, the tiny gold hoops in his lobes, and down to the rapidly beating pulse in his throat. Hannah’s words came rushing back—If Gage’s involved with anyone, then it’s with himself—and she wondered if he’d kissed her because he felt himself attracted to her, or was it because it assuaged his curiosity?
“I think it’s time we continue the tour before we do something we’re not ready to do.”
Gage exhaled, the nostrils of his straight nose flaring slightly as his hands fell away from her face. “You’re right,” he said after a pregnant pause.
They went downstairs to the master bedroom suite. California-king bed with a mahogany headboard carved with flowers and pineapples took center stage in the room decorated in colors of pale-gray, dark-gray, and white. The intricately carved design was repeated on a massive armoire and a chest at the foot of the bed.
Tonya was drawn to the French doors leading to the balcony. How magical, she mused, it would be to wake up to the spectacular sight of the sun rising over the Mississippi River. The en-suite master bath was as dramatic as the bedroom, with a double vanity, large, freestanding shower stall, and a Jacuzzi. Gage led her into another bedroom with tall windows and a door that also opened out onto the balcony. Next to the bedroom was another bath, which overlooked the balcony at the rear of the house.
Minutes later they were on the first floor. Two fireplaces, skylights, and ceiling fans were strategically placed throughout the open floor plan for the living/dining room and modern gourmet kitchen. The kitchen wasn’t as large as the one in DuPont House, yet it provided enough space for two people to work comfortably without bumping into each other.
Leather seating, area rugs scattered over glossy wood floors, mahogany tables with lamps, and a matching entertainment console with a large flat-screen TV and electronic components graced the living room. An oversize leather sofa was positioned to divide the living from the dining area with a table with seating for six.
“Did you have to do a major upgrade before you moved in?” she asked Gage.
Crossing his arms over his chest, he shook his head. “No. I installed central air and heating and redesigned the kitchen because I wanted stainless steel appliances and white cabinets.”
“Everything about your home, including the design and the furnishings, is magnificent.”
“I’ll be certain to let my mother know you like what she’s done.”
“Your mother is an interior decorator?”
Gage curved an arm around her waist. “Not professionally. She was a window dresser who never had any formal training. When she was in high school she worked part-time in her parents’ antique shop, and every holiday she would decorate the windows. After a while other shopkeepers hired her to do their windows. Even after she married my father she would go back to Lafayette to change shop windows. She’s never said it openly, but I believe she regretted not going to college to become a professional decorator.” His fingers tightened on her waist. “Unlike you, I only had coffee for breakfast, so if you don’t mind I’d like us to start dinner.”
Tonya smiled up at him. “Lead on.”