The Winemaker's Dinner: Dessert (The Winemaker's Feast) (6 page)

She wasn’t giving up. Jaden took her coffee back inside and picked up her phone.

I miss you.

Chapter 8

“Love and Memories”

“A
SIAN
C
HICKEN
S
ALAD
A
ND
A P
ITCHER
O
F
W
ATER
, P
LEASE
,” Ivan said. He handed the menu back to the waiter without having looked at it. He’d been here a hundred times, and a hundred times he’d ordered the same thing.

“Yes, sir.”

This was his go-to place for good food and people watching, and Ivan found himself once again nursing a sexual hangover from the night before. He could still remember how the incessant drone of the synthetic music had reverberated off the club’s walls as Ivan and the freak sat patiently.

The incessant drone of the synthetic music had reverberated off the club’s walls as Ivan and the freak sat patiently, quietly clinging to the control and good judgment that had become rare at this stage of the game. His eyes never stopped moving as he observed and assessed potential partners for the debauchery the freak demanded.

Redheads, brunettes, blondes, Cubans, Asians, and a particularly spectacular African American woman—all the colors of the flesh rainbow had swarmed the dance floor, writhing in perfect harmony. Many of them met his eyes as he watched. No doubt they scoured the perimeter for the next unsuspecting, unlucky bastard—the next future ex-husband, Sugar Daddy, or Mr. Right Now. As long as he had cash money to spend, he was their next victim. This immediately ruled them out, as this was not what he had in mind. Ivan, and whether he liked it or not, the freak, was looking for sex, not a social climber. They worked in tandem, eliminating women one by one. Only a no-strings-attached, no-games-to-play sexual drug dealer could give him what he needed to bandage the hole ripped back open by the recent return of heartbreak personified.

Blonde on the left.
Ivan eyed the Eastern European girl in the light blue dress shaking her shit and making aggressive eye contact.

Come on,
Ivan pleaded with the freak. Ten minutes into it she’ll be asking about financials and what she gets for fucking us. Even though you can bounce a quarter off her ass, she ain’t worth it.

Okay, black girl on the right in low cut jeans and the white shirt.

Ivan’s eyes raked over the dark beauty on the dance floor. When the music transitioned from low beats to high energy, her body flowed along fluidly, indicating some real talent. He nodded appreciatively as the delicate flower budded into an erotic fruit that tempted him without mercy.

No, no, no…
the freak interrupted.
The redhead with the boy shorts and her tits out.

Ivan found the rocket cutting the rug five yards away. When she felt his eyes on her, she began running her hands up and down her body.
She would be insane. I want that. We need that.

Uff
…He hated when the freak made him an active participant in chasing his addiction. There was always less guilt, less responsibility when they pursued him. This game, this pretending he had a choice, that the freak wouldn’t ultimately decide his fate for the night, was miserable. But the news of Miami Beach’s latest arrival made him desperate, which was worse than being miserable. How many would it take to satiate this unquenchable thirst and numb his heart?

As the DJ continued through an endless playlist of shitty techno music, Ivan had sat back and contemplated the gauntlet the freak laid before him:

Blonde with the IQ of a golden retriever but the ass of a thoroughbred.

Black girl with an ass shake that would move mountains.

Or the redhead whose lustful stare could melt the foundation that held marriages together.

Left, right, up, down, over, under—it didn’t matter. No matter how he tried, the thought of Jaden in town made him yearn for the ultimate release and some kind of magic amnesia for what could and should have been. The possibility of her being close enough to touch made him hope to cross her path, but the idea of actually seeing her scared the living shit out of him. Did she deserve a response to all her attempted contacts or did she deserve him fucking all three of these girls tonight and reaching the highest sexual oblivion possible to drown out the idea of her?

He’d surveyed the room one last time and then surrendered, allowing the freak to unleash himself and clip all three ladies who had tempted him. With a flick of his hand, an unmistakable stare, and a tip of his head, he’d beckoned them one by one to his table. He’d done his alter ego’s bidding and then retreated into himself, letting the freak take control.

Later that evening, the three gorgeous women, their flesh slick with sex and sweat, had all tangled together in a night of debauchery. It had taken a swarm of nameless women to satisfy the freak this time, and he was beginning to feel a little out of control. Nameless, faceless women were all he had left, and evidently they were beginning to lose their effect. Every encounter was more aggressive and deviant than the last, and with each one, he lost a little more of himself. He was becoming tolerant to the drug he’d used to numb the pain, just as the source of his pain had drawn near. What would he do when the high wore off completely and he was left with a gaping wound in his chest? That scared the shit out of him, too.

Desperate now to change the direction of his thoughts, Ivan diverted his attention away from last night’s debauchery and back to the present. He’d indulge in some good old therapeutic Lincoln Road people watching, a pastime that had always seemed to soothe what ailed him. He watched as what appeared to be a fifty-year-old rollerblader rolled by wearing a gold thong that matched his skin tone.
Interesting.
Seconds later, a Rastafarian guy with dreads hanging down to his ass meandered by asking for spare change.
Boring.
But what did catch his attention was the dark-haired girl looking sexy as hell in a red dress and oversized sunglasses.
Now we’re talking.

But on second look, his heart began to pound in his ears like a drum. This wasn’t some beach bunny out for a stroll. It was
her
, the one who’d kicked him in the proverbial nuts six months ago before a crowd of all their friends. The one who, minutes later, had torn his still-beating heart from his chest in the parking lot. The one who’d stripped him of his very essence. And the one who still controlled everything he was and all he wanted to be.

As she closed the gap between them, he began to tremble in anticipation, nervousness, or fear—he couldn’t discern which one. But it didn’t matter, because he had to get a grip on whatever inconvenient emotion was bubbling up to the surface. He looked down, covering his face with one hand and fumbling with his phone in the other. He tried desperately to blend in. He wasn’t ready for any form of contact, and he didn’t know if he ever would be.

After a moment he couldn’t help but raise his head and admire her—the way the red dress clung to her curves—as she passed. But his admiration was cut short when the freak offered his two cents:
Lying, cheating bitch.

Maybe talking to her was what he needed to let go and move on. He had to quit punishing himself before he spiraled further out of control.
I know what you need…

“Here you go, sir.”

“Thank you,” Ivan managed as he looked down at his favorite dish. But the sight of her had caused him to lose his appetite. The freak roared in his ear, urging him to go and lose himself in his next fix, but he ignored the beast’s taunting and allowed his mind to fill with thoughts of what could have been.

If she hadn’t shattered their happily ever after, they would’ve been planning a wedding together this very moment. They’d be the “it” couple of South Beach, enjoying fantastic careers and the fruits of all their hard work. His new practice would be the freedom and joy he’d wanted it to be, not just the endless grind of additional work it sometimes seemed like. She would visit him in Miami Beach to soak up the sun and relax, and he would go to L.A. to spoil her and provide temporary relief from the hustle and bustle of entertainment life. Their lives would have been full of colors and feelings that blinded with their brilliance, not this mundane, sepia-toned half life he was living.

Nevertheless, he was thankful for everything the business had required of him lately. He ran both hands through his hair. Where he was and what he was doing was his dream. Yes, Jaden had for a time been part of that dream, but he still had a plan, a purpose. Before things fell apart with her, he’d believed he was putting everything he had into his career, but without her, he’d discovered how much more he could make himself give. The current ahead-of-schedule success of his new practice was no doubt a direct result of the pain and heartbreak he’d experienced. He was a master at masking his devastation with determination, and he’d funneled all his extra time and creative energy into his work. He shuddered to think what he and the freak might become without it. It was a bittersweet return for such an investment, but if she hadn’t crucified him and their relationship, he wouldn’t be where he was now. And it was exactly where he wanted to be, wasn’t it?

He knew in his heart it wasn’t. It had sounded like a lie from the moment he formed the thought, but her gigantic clusterfuck of a mistake had kept his storybook ending from being written. There was nothing he could do. Suddenly Ivan knew there was no way he could survive with her in his Miami Beach bubble. He had to know why she was here.

Wait, mistake? Is that what it was?
But he shook the thought from his mind as he hailed a passing waitress.
It was so much more than a mere mistake.
He handed the waitress a fifty-dollar bill and pointed to the Rastafarian still scrounging for change outside. “Could you box this up and give it to that man right there, please? And you can keep the change.”

And with that he strolled off in the direction opposite the one she had just come from, hands in his pocket and a hole in his bleeding heart.

Chapter 9

“Somebody That I Used to Know”

“L
ET’S
G
O
, B
ITCH
!” Tasha yelled as Jaden scurried up the concrete steps that led into Bianca.

“I’m coming, I’m coming, but these shoes are killing me,” Jaden replied, pointing to her new pair of four-inch black patent heels.

Tasha smiled and offered her an arm as they entered Jaden’s former workplace through the large, wooden doors. Jaden grinned and closed her eyes for a moment as she soaked in the familiarity. “Ooh, they have new drapes,” she commented. “The classic white is a nice touch.”

Tasha rolled her eyes, but was prevented from delivering her next snarky comment by Geoff’s voice.

“Jaden Thorne!” He burst through the kitchen’s double doors with a dramatic flair and darted across the dining room to greet her.

“Geoff!” she cried, wrapping her arms around him. “I’ve missed you!” And in that moment, she realized she really had.

“How have you been? What are you in town for—business or pleasure? And where’s—” Geoff caught himself and smiled apologetically.

“I missed my friends and my favorite kitchen,” Jaden explained. “The show is on hiatus.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re back. It’s so good to see you! And it’s nice to see you as well, Tasha. She’s one of our regulars, you know,” Geoff added with a wink. “Are you going to be here long?”

“I’ll be here two whole months,” Jaden announced, looking around. “I’ll be relaxing, but you know a chef can’t stay out of the kitchen for long…”

“Don’t tease me!” Geoff warned. “We’d love to have you back any time you want!”

“You just let me know, and I’ll be sure to be available.”

“You’re the best!” Geoff wrapped Jaden in another hug, then returned to his business self. “Let’s get you ladies some food.”

He led them to a table and motioned to a waitress standing by the bar.

“I want you to try everything,” he instructed as he pulled out their chairs. When they were seated, he nodded politely and took his leave.

“Susan!” Jaden yelled as she looked up at the waitress. In an instant she’d jumped up from the table. “I thought you’d moved! And you changed your hair! I love it.”

The now-blond server hugged Jaden and blanketed her with a torrent of words. “It’s so good to see you. I was working downtown, but it didn’t work out, and Geoff was nice enough to give me my old job back. Ohmygod, I watched every one of your shows! Is Damian as hot in person as he is on TV?”

The happy reunion turned cold as Jaden felt a rush of bad vibes sweep through her at the mention of Damian’s name. “Ahh…” she managed as she struggled to recover.