4. Tomorrow #2
“Miss Bennett, we were made aware of your love of seafood.” He set the plate in front of me.
Art, we are eating fucking art. “Tonight, you have Atlantic salmon that is perfectly seared to perfection, rested on a bed of sweet potato purée so smooth that it looks painted onto the clay plate. We have deep orange, ivory, gold, and purple honey-glazed carrots that appear to give the emerald broccolini a high five. The salmon is crowned with crispy shallots. The brown sugar sage sauce rims the plate like highlighted excellence. The beautiful flowers that decorate your plate are, of course, edible, and the microgreens pull it all together for a complete masterpiece.”
Wow! He said something before he walked away from the table, but I was too caught up in the beauty of the plate.
It was hard because all night, I wanted to take photos of the dishes.
The hesitation was that I wanted to stay in the moment of tonight.
Yes, this would have been great content, but I wanted to hold this sacred between me and Kyro.
Seconds after the server left, a man came out with two females trailing closely behind him. “Good evening, Mr. Goings and Miss Bennett. My name is José, your sommelier for tonight. I wanted to personally bring out your wine pairing for tonight.”
One of the ladies stepped forward. She flipped over a glass that was in her hand and set it on the table. Next, she held out a bottle of wine toward Kyro that showed the label.
The sommelier pointed to the bottle. “For your dish, sir, you needed something that was bold enough to not be overpowered by the herb-crusted beef. You need something that is masculine and confident like yourself. Cabernet Sauvignon from the Basil-Sand Line is perfect for this challenge. The red wine reduction is complemented by the rich black cherry, blackberry, cedar, and cocoa note in this bottle. Basil-Sand Line did an amazing job with the balance of the tannins. It cuts through the richness of the filet but does not overwhelm it. This wine fits the dish and your personality.”
I willed my mouth not to drop open by his explanation of the wine pairing. This kind of experience were things that you saw on television on those high saditty shows. This was the type of thing that you would expect at a $1,000 a plate fundraising dinner. I couldn’t wait until he got to me.
Kyro took a sip from the wineglass, then nodded. “This is perfect. I have not had wine from this line, but I am familiar with their beer.”
José nodded. “Yes, their beer is superb as well. Let’s move on to you, Miss Bennett.
Oaked Chardonnay is the choice to match the richness of your salmon with its buttery texture.
The brown sage sauce needed to be perfectly complemented.
Once again, Basil-Sand Line did a phenomenal job on the notes that makes this wine so great.
The citrus, baked apple, vanilla, and toasted oak is that perfect compliment.
“This wine speaks to your elegance, Miss Bennett, as well as your gentleness. You are a force to be reckoned with. You also know when to pull back to not be overpowering which is an important part of that excellence.” José’s words were absolute and appreciated.
The other young lady poured my glass. I took a sip and immediately appreciated everything that he said about it. I drank wine, but it wasn’t this level of wine. Whatever the grocery store sold was what I drank.
After he made sure that we approved of the wine, José and the ladies were on their way. Kyro picked up his fork, then glanced at me. “Ready to taste these masterpieces.”
I barely nodded before I picked my fork up and put it into my salmon. It flaked perfectly the second my fork hit it. Once it was in my mouth, I moaned. It melted and was so flavorful. “This is so good, Kyro. How is yours?”
He finished the bite that he had in his mouth. “This steak is so damn good. I can tell this cow was grass-fed.”
I gawked at him for a beat before I erupted with laughter. “What the hell, Kyro! Now you know if a cow is grass-fed, that’s a powerful filet. Let me get a bite.”
A scowl came across his handsome face. “Were you the one that was just all screw faced when that man said something about sharing? Now you want some of my steak.”
My eyes rolled to the ceiling. I swooped up some of the purée with my fork. “You can have some of my sweet potato purée.”
His head drew back before he chortled. “Yo, that’s wild. You want a piece of my steak, but all you’re offering me is some damn sweet potato purée. Yeah, that’s not going to work for me. It’s gonna have to be a protein for a protein.”
My brow rose. “Well, um, I have a better protein that I think you would like a lot better than this salmon. I just wanted to taste that protein before I taste your other.”
My tone was seductive, eyes sensual, and body language sexual. Yeah, I wanted him to know exactly what was on the menu for later. I guess my sister was right. She would see me in the morning.
His head tilted. He stabbed his fork into one of the filets on the plate and put the whole thing on my plate. “Aye! Homeboy!”
Our server rushed out. “Yes, Mr. Goings. Is everything alright?”
“Yeah, we cool. Tell me, what’s on the menu for dessert.” When the server hesitated, Kyro’s hand rose. “You can tell me. I need y’all to box it up so we can go. I want to know so I know if we need to get to the house immediately or we have some grace time.”
The guy snickered for a brief second. “Understood, Mr. Goings. For dessert we have a charcuterie board of decadent creations for your tastebud’s pleasure.
On the board, you have chocolate-covered strawberries, mini crème br?lée, salted caramel cheesecake bites, fresh berries, and dark chocolate truffles.
If you two decide to stay, it will be served with your choice of espresso, cappuccino, or hot tea. ”
Oh, that sounds so good. Kyro lifted his arm and glanced at his watch. “Cool, you can take a picture of the presentation and send it to my phone. Go ahead and box it up. We can stop at Starbucks for the coffee and shit. By the time you do that, we should be finish with these plates.”
I held in my laughter until the server left. “Really, Kyro? All of that.”
“Fuck yeah, all of that. I’ll make up for the missed dessert opportunity. Trust me, ya man has you covered.”
My man, huh . . .
A Morning To Repeat . . .
My head pressed against the headboard of Kyro’s bed while he ate the common sense out of me through my pussy. My hand gripped his curly hair and pushed a little downward. I was ashamed at how I ran from the tongue. Was this a precursor to how I would run from the dick?
True to his word, Kyro stopped at a Starbucks that was close to the hospital that stayed open until midnight. This man got five damn drinks. I wasn’t sure why he did that when he knew good and well we wouldn’t drink any of it when we got to his house.
I wasn’t sure what I expected when it came to how Kyro’s apartment would look.
He had a very spacious two-bedroom loft condo.
Why he needed that much space was beyond me at first, but once he gave me the tour, I understood.
The two bedrooms were on the main floor.
One was his actual bedroom and the other a home gym.
It was a beautiful open concept downstairs for the kitchen, dining room, and living room. The decor in his house was artsy.
Unlike my place that had paintings, murals, and sculptures, Kyro’s place had more sketches.
I could tell that some of them were his original art, and the others were sketches by other artists.
His original work was mind-blowing. He had original sketches in his shop, but these were on another level.
I asked if he had ever tatted any of them, and he told me that he hadn’t.
When he took me to the loft, that was where the magic was. It was his own personal, small tattoo parlor. He said that he only tatted friends and family at his house.
The main attraction of Kyro’s tattoo loft was the mural on the back brick wall. The first thing that drew my eyes to the mural wasn’t the color in it, but the pencil in the hand of the man who I assumed was Kyro. He resembled him, so I would go with that.
The pencil was frozen in time forever amid his sketching greatness. Even in Kyro’s eyes on the mural, you could tell that nothing else in the world mattered except that sketch. Was the sketch in the mural the beginning of a commissioned tattoo for a client?
I didn’t need to ask who the artist was of the mural because the bottom of the piece told me.
Sketched by Kyro Goings. Painted by Danielle Goings.
It was genius in the way that Danielle didn’t use the entire wall to paint the mural.
There was exposed bricks that gave the piece character and depth.
It gave the appearance that the wall birthed the mural, not the brushstrokes of her brush.
When I gazed at Kyro on the mural, it reminded me of what the sommelier said when he explained the pairing of the wine he selected for Kyro.
It cuts through the richness of the filet but does not overwhelm it.
Just like the wine did to the filet, the depiction of him in the mural cut through the richness of it, but it did not overwhelm it.
I hadn’t known him for that long, but I knew enough about him to know that he had rather people looked at his work than him.