Chapter Eighteen #2
“I’m rearranging my section of the kitchen and prepping a few dishes. You got a problem with that? And before you answer, remember you gave me a key I didn’t ask for, and…you’re on probation.”
If there was a face made when swallowing words, whole sentences even, Rashad witnessed it with Jamilah.
She worked her jaw with a hand to her throat as though aiding digestion.
After taking a moment to collect herself, her thoughts, and/or errant curse words strewn across brain waves, she responded.
“While this is your kitchen, this is my business. So yes, I have a problem with entering my establishment and seeing it in this state of disarray. I also have every right not only to be upset about it but to ask what the hell is going on.” A beat and then, “Respectfully.”
Rashad watched Jamilah work to control her anger, breathing slowly, chest heaving up and down.
She probably didn’t know how sexy all that strength and power looked wrapped in that Side Chic’k sweatshirt paired with tight-fitting corduroys tucked inside cute ankle boots.
He liked a woman who could hold her own, who didn’t back down from her truth. But she didn’t have to know that.
He tossed down the dish towel he held and headed toward the doorway. “I’m out.”
“Rashad!” Those six letters she yelled held ten pounds of panic.
He quickly turned around. “Just kidding.”
Again, a slew of emotions played Ping-Pong on her face. “Ooh,” she finally managed between gritted teeth. “I could douse you with that whole pot of macaroni right now!”
“Which would put me in even more hot water.”
Rashad kept his straight face and watched Jamilah try to match it. Her eyes sparkled with the mischief he felt. That comeback was funny. She wanted to laugh so bad but was too mad and had too much pride to give in to the punch line. He knew because he would have reacted the same way.
He held her gaze. She didn’t blink or laugh. He thought of the lines he’d scribbled earlier before jumping out of bed and heading this way. The rhyme, spoken word, rap, whatever it turned out to be, that was all about her.
“What are you doing?” she asked again.
“Creating the same type of system here that made the catering gig flow so smoothly.”
For the next several minutes he relayed the vision in his head, how every item was placed for not only easy access but also for greater functionality in the limited space.
“I probably should have texted you,” he finished.
“How about definitely?”
“You’re right. I was just so excited, Jamilah. Turning a dream into reality, taking something from paper to product, turns me all the way on.”
The way you do, he wanted to add but didn’t, even as his eyes traveled the length of her body and back, and their chemistry sizzled like a Bunsen burner.
He could tell she was feeling him, and not because he was a conceited jerk who felt he could pull any lady.
For the record, he just about could. No, his opinion was based on years of studying a woman’s body language, from the time he’d lost his virginity at too early an age.
It was the way her eyes fluttered and her body shifted ever so slighted.
The way she licked her lips before quickly turning away and gave him a view of a heavenly moon.
“What’s all happening on the stove?”
“More great ideas.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.”
“You’re going to love them. Hear me out.”
“Them, as in plural?”
“So picture this.” Rashad spread out his hands like a banner. “Surprise Side Sunday.”
“Paint me that picture.”
“Sure.” He walks over and picks up a plank of wood and a hammer. “Do me a favor and grab those nails.”
While reimagining the cooking area (and the prep area, once Jamilah caught the vision), Rashad shared the idea that had come to him while inventorying the pantry.
A way to maximize food usage and minimize waste.
Using one product for multiple dishes, such as macaroni and cheese and macaroni salad.
Baking instead of boiling the potatoes for potato salad and potato boats.
“What would you charge for this plate of sides?”
“Five dollars. Surprise Sides for five. Add two chicken legs, double the price, and call it Surprise Sides Walking.”
He explained other benefits. How this surprise option gave the restaurant a chance to use up produce before having to toss it, how the name could be branded and marketed to draw in those visiting nearby businesses and a younger crowd.
“You thought all of this up this morning?”
“Wait until you see what I’ve got for you by this afternoon.”
He winked. She smiled, a coy, slight upturn of the lips as she looked away.
Rashad’s insides tightened. Certain body parts took notice, too.
Rashad increased the distance between them to break the sensual connection infusing them both.
He nailed hooks onto the wood, then began placing cookware and other items within easy reach.
Once done, both he and Jamilah stood back and surveyed the newly appointed kitchen.
She looked at Rashad.
He stared back with a self-assured grin.
“I know you hate to say it, but go ahead and say it.”
“This is wonderful, Rashad. The kitchen looks bigger. It’s functional. Convenient. I’d love to have a setup like this in my closet!”
He nodded toward the counter. “There’s extra wood left.”
Before heading down the hall, Jamilah looked at him with an expression as close to admiration as she could probably allow herself and something else.
Lust, maybe? No way she wasn’t feeling the same for him as he was for her.
If she was going to keep looking at him like that and making him feel the way he did now, working here wasn’t going to be easy, and he needed to limit the time that they were alone.
He forced his thoughts from sex to the stove. Focus on the macaroni, man. The macaroni!
He appeared busy, but his whole body tensed as a certain perfume wafted back into the kitchen. Tension turned to tingling as Jamilah approached.
“Rashad?”
She gently touched his shoulder. He turned around.
“Thank you.” Then, as if she couldn’t help it, she reached up and gave him a quick hug.
The woman was playing with dynamite. The restraint Rashad practiced could have ignited a rocket with enough juice for a moon landing.
He wanted to wrap his arms around her, erase the space between their bodies, and let their tongues get acquainted.
Instead, he leaned down and lightly kissed her forehead.
“You’re welcome.”