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  He had ignored her and attempted to make other changes the following week, but her other two chefs had circumvented the dishes before they made it out onto the floor. From that point on he was not allowed to prepare any of the dishes going out; he was simply there to learn how to prepare them from her and her other chefs. He had spent this last week criticizing under his breath how she ran her kitchen and, frankly, she was tired of it.

  “Get out of my kitchen,” she said calmly, trying to keep her temper in check.

  “Excuse me?” Nikko said in confusion.

  “I said get out of my kitchen,” she repeated.

  “You cannot just kick me out like I’m some common fry cook,” Nikko said indignantly.

  “Man, you are really testing my patience,” Chayse said. “That’s my name on the restaurant, my money that pays the bills, and my food that everyone is eating so I can do anything I damn well please. Now, get the hell out of my kitchen…my restaurant…before they have to take you out of here on a stretcher.”

  Nikko opened his mouth to speak, then, with an indignant huff, he gathered his personal chef knives and headed for the door.

  “I will be informing my father of this,” he said.

  Chayse waved him away dismissively. “Give him my regards.”

  After Nikko stomped his way out of the kitchen, she turned back to her staff. “Show is over, ladies and gents, get back to work. Doors open in thirty minutes.”

  As Chayse went about her routine of preparing the restaurant for the Sunday brunch crowd, she thought back to all those years ago standing on a chair in her grandmother’s kitchen helping her prepare Sunday dinner for the family. That was where she fell in love with cooking at the tender age of five, and by the time she was twelve she could prepare a three-course meal by herself. Her parents encouraged her talent and beamed with pride when she graduated from culinary school and then decided to continue her studies in Europe.

  As a going away gift, her grandmother had collected all of the family recipes and given them to Chayse’s sister who had them printed into a spiral bound cookbook for her. That cookbook became Chayse’s bible. It went wherever she did, and when she decided to open her own restaurant she knew the menu would be based on the recipes from that book. She had even thought to name it Bea’s Place, but her grandmother had put a stop to that real quick, saying she would feel foolish walking around with her name on a restaurant. So Chayse did the next best thing and put her own name on it.

  Unfortunately, opening her own place wasn’t as easy as she thought. Debt from her student loans kept her from getting a business loan, and investors didn’t want to back an unknown in a soul food restaurant when there were already so many in New York. Her grandmother gave her the idea to get into catering, so she started catering small parties and events for her network of friends. Her business grew through word of mouth and referrals, but it wasn’t until she and hip-hop artist Ebony “The Beast” Trent met and became friends that her dream for opening her own restaurant came to be.

  Ebony was looking for an investment, and after seeing how well Chayse’s catering business was doing she thought Chayse would be the perfect investment opportunity. With Ebony’s backing, Chayse threw herself into making the restaurant a success. Sacrificing her personal life, and sometimes her sanity, to prove that it wasn’t just another soul food spot. Ebony’s contacts in the entertainment industry didn’t hurt either. As soon as celebrities were spotted eating at Chayse’s Place, business boomed, especially when regular folks realized that they could eat at the same place as their favorite entertainer without spending an arm and a leg to do so. There were two major stipulations Ebony made to Chayse—keep the food good and the prices reasonable, both of which Chayse had no issue with doing. That was six years ago, and Chayse had lines out the door most weekends and people making reservations months in advance just to ensure they got a seat.

  One weekly reservation that caught Chayse’s eye had been walking through the door like clockwork every Sunday for the past month. Serena, a stunning, thick sista with curves in all the right places, rich, golden brown complexion, a mane of thick, reddish brown natural curls that haloed her face and cascaded to just past her shoulders, hypnotic hazel eyes surrounded by long, thick lashes, and a softly upturned nose above full, sensual lips. Chayse always made it a point to be out in the dining area whenever Serena arrived. Taking the time to admire Serena’s slow, easy grace as she walked across the room.

  Other than smiles of greeting and quick, passing glances, Serena and Chayse had only spoken twice. The first was when Serena had asked the waiter if there was any way she could have one of Chayse’s sweet potato pies shipped to her grandmother in Georgia. Chayse had come out to personally make sure the pie was shipped by the end of the week. She had made the pie herself the very next day instead of using one of the pre-made and frozen pies her pastry chef prepared, and then shipped it herself. The second time was last Sunday when she came in to thank Chayse and to give her a message from her grandmother. The joy on Serena’s face when she talked about her grandmother reminded Chayse of how she felt about her own grandmother. It was one more of the growing number of reasons Chayse felt herself drawn to Serena.

  Other than her name, the fact that Serena moved to New York from Georgia just six months ago for a job opportunity, and that she adored her grandmother, Chayse knew nothing else about the woman she had developed a serious attraction to. Today, Chayse planned to change that by stopping by Serena’s table to ask about her grandmother in the hope of drawing her into a conversation about herself. The goal was to find out if, one, she was gay, and two, if she would go out with her. If the first answer was a no, then Chayse would walk away with her tail between her legs and go back to her other life partner, her cat, Lucky, and resign herself to being a bachelorette for the rest of her life.

  When Serena was a no-show for that Sunday, Chayse was actually a little relieved. It turned out her dedication to her career left her more confident in the kitchen than with charming the ladies. Maybe Serena’s new life in New York had finally brought her other interests to occupy her Sundays, she thought to herself as she locked up that night and made her way up to her loft apartment above the restaurant.

  “Guess it’s just you and me, huh, Lucky,” she said to the black cat that met her at the door.

  Lucky meowed in response as she wove herself through Chayse’s legs. Chayse dropped her backpack by the door, bent down to pick up the cat, and headed into the kitchen. The loft took up the entire top floor above the restaurant and was laid out in an open floor plan with sliding doors that separated the master bedroom and bath from the main living space. Her kitchen area took a large portion of the farthest side of the space and was a home chef’s dream kitchen. Chayse entertained family, friends, and business associates often, and a good kitchen was at the top of her list when she discussed the layout of the space with the architect.

  She set Lucky on one of the stools along the kitchen island, turned on the TV, and prepared her four-legged roommate’s dinner of leftover broiled tuna. Just as she was about to set Lucky’s bowl down, a news story caught her attention. The reporter was saying that police were still looking for the identity of a woman who had been attacked while jogging in Riverside Park a few days ago. She was found unconscious with no identification and still remained in a coma at Harlem Hospital Center. When they showed the victim’s picture asking if anyone could help identify her, Chayse’s legs felt like they would collapse from under her and she had to grab the counter for support. It was Serena.

  * * *

  When Serena Frazier arrived in New York six months ago, it wasn’t as a naïve, wide-eyed, fresh-faced dreamer entranced by the big lights of New York City. At thirty-four years old, she came focused, armed, and prepared to make a name for herself. At fourteen, she had started her own side hustle designing flyers, posters, websites, and even CD covers for small local clubs, businesses, concert promoters, and independent artists in and around her
home of Savannah, Georgia, to help her parents save money for college. She graduated with a bachelor of fine arts in graphic design from Georgia Southern University and had spent the past twelve years clawing her way to a senior designer level at companies that couldn’t see past her being a Black woman.

  When an industry networking event put her in contact with Dennis Sanders, the CEO of a Black-owned graphic design start-up in New York, she couldn’t pass up the opportunity to discuss her experience and ask for advice. They met for lunch the following day at the airport before his flight back to New York, and two weeks later, he had called to offer her a creative director position at his firm.

  Serena was thrilled. Her girlfriend of almost two years, Mel, wasn’t. She couldn’t believe Serena was seriously considering leaving just as they were starting to look at apartments together. As much as she cared about Mel, Serena knew that to pass up the opportunity to not only further her career but to work for Dennis Sanders, a designer whose work she had always admired, would be crazy. Mel didn’t understand why Serena had to go all the way to New York when Raleigh, North Carolina, the Silicon Valley of the South, was practically next door. Serena felt that if Mel couldn’t understand what such a step in her career would mean to her, then she really didn’t know her at all. They argued for days until Serena finally broke it off with Mel. Within a day of that, Serena gave her notice at her job, called her cousin Alex who lived in Harlem to make arrangements to stay with her until she could find her own place, and within a month, said a tear-filled good-bye to her parents, brothers, and beloved grandmother and headed to New York.

  Serena’s first couple of months were a whirlwind with getting to know her role and her team as well as her new home city. Her cousin Alex traveled a lot for her job so Serena was left to fend for herself quite often. She had only visited New York a few times since her cousin moved up several years ago, and she always loved the loud, frenetic personality of the city. It fed her creativity, but visiting and living in it were two different things. When a bout of homesickness hit her, she questioned her decision.

  To cheer her up, Alex took her to brunch at Chayse’s Place one Sunday, which had the opposite effect she wanted. The food was so good it made her even more homesick for Sunday dinners at her grandmother’s house. When Serena called her grandmother that night and told her she had made a mistake and was considering coming back home, her grandmother surprised her by telling her that would be the mistake. She reminded Serena how miserable she was working for people who didn’t see her potential and appreciate her talent. It made no sense to work as long and as hard as she had to get where she was only to take a huge step backward because she missed her family.

  “Child, we’ll always be here. We aren’t going anywhere anytime soon so wipe away that sadness and get back to doing you!” Serena’s grandmother had told her.

  Serena adored her grandmother’s no-nonsense attitude. It was one of the main reasons she had called her instead of her mother because she knew her mother would agree that maybe she should come home. She had not been happy about Serena moving to New York in the first place, but her grandmother, father, and brothers had agreed it would be good for her to step out on her own. Because her mother seemed to be outnumbered, she gave up trying to convince Serena to stay in Georgia.

  Taking her grandmother’s advice to heart, Serena wiped away her sadness and found other activities that would focus on her other passions to occupy her time. She signed up for a community art class and joined a running club. She also decided to go back to Chayse’s Place for Sunday brunch, but it would be at the same time her family usually had Sunday dinner so that she could at least get some down home food even if she couldn’t be down home to have it.

  That was when she got her first look at the restaurant’s proprietor, Chayse Carmichael. Serena was usually attracted to feminine women, but there was something about Chayse’s androgynous appearance, neither specifically feminine nor masculine, that drew her. She stood about five ten with a slim but muscular physique; loose, shoulder-length jet-black locs; smooth chocolate complexion; sleepy, light brown eyes; wide nose; and full lips that always seemed to be spread into a warm smile no matter who she spoke with. Serena had surreptitiously watched Chayse move through the restaurant, greeting guests and talking with staff here and there, and she secretly hoped Chayse would stop by her table as well. When their gazes caught for just a moment and Chayse’s smile broadened a bit, Serena felt her heart flutter.

  It seemed as if Chayse was going to make her way over, but she was waylaid by one of the servers. Serena had quickly turned away and looked out the window she sat beside. When she turned back a moment later, to her disappointment, Chayse was gone.

  It wasn’t until the following Sunday that Serena came up with a possible way to connect with Chayse and asked about sending one of Chayse’s sweet potato pies to her grandmother. She had hoped, but not really expected, that Chayse would personally come out to speak with her, so it was quite a surprise when she spotted Chayse walking toward her table. Serena quickly looked away and took a large gulp of her mimosa to steady her nerves.

  “Ms. Frazier, I’m Chayse Carmichael,” she had said and offered her hand in greeting.

  Serena had stood, accepting her handshake, trying her best to ignore the fluttering brought on by Chayse’s smooth, husky voice. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Chef Carmichael.”

  Chayse’s grip had been strong but gentle. A feeling of warmth had spread from their clasped hands, up Serena’s arm, and throughout her body. It was the strangest sensation she’d ever felt, and it took her a moment to realize Chayse had been speaking to her. She had quickly released Chayse’s hand and managed to catch enough of what she said to pick up the conversation. They had discussed the pie, Serena’s recent move to New York, and her grandmother. The conversation was brief and ended too soon with Serena giving Chayse her grandmother’s address and phone number to send the pie.

  With a good-bye and a disarming smile that made Serena’s heart stutter, Chayse was walking away before Serena realized she had blown her opportunity to get Chayse’s number in return. She’d sat down with a frustrated sigh. Serena was not a shy woman. She’d spent so many years hiding who she really was that when she came out she promised herself that she would no longer shy away from going after what she wanted. Since then, she’d never had a problem asking other women out, but there was something about Chayse that had her wanting to be pursued instead of doing the pursuing.

  Serena knew from a recent New York Magazine article about Chayse and the restaurant that, in spite of having been spotted out with a WNBA player and a fashion model over the past year, there was no one special in her life right now. The restaurant was her life, and she just didn’t have the time or attention to pursue a serious relationship. Serena had to remind herself that her own life was still getting settled and that adding a romance to the mix, casual or otherwise, would just be a distraction. Even though she’d caught Chayse glancing her way on several occasions, Serena decided that, for once, she would wait for the other woman to approach her.

  At least that was what she was telling herself during her early morning run. Running always helped to clear her mind, which was why she decided to go for one on Sunday, which was usually her rest day. She’d woken up from a very vivid dream about Chayse Carmichael that reminded her of her lack of physical companionship since she and Mel had split up. Going back to sleep proved difficult so in spite of it being just past dawn, she was out running through Riverside Park trying to get X-rated thoughts of a woman she barely knew out of her head.

  A sudden twinge in her hamstring made her slow her pace. As she limped over to a bench to stretch the cramp out, she was grabbed from behind and pushed into a copse of bushes nearby, then thrown to the ground. The impact knocked the wind out of her, and before she could even gather her breath to cry out for help, she felt a weight on her legs and someone tugging down the waistband of her pants.

  The self-defense t
raining her police officer father had given her, kicked in. She lay still, letting her attacker think she was unconscious, and as he began to slide her pants down, she felt him shift enough to give her some leverage to turn just enough to elbow him in the jaw. Catching him off guard, she was able to scramble a few feet away and scream as loud as she could, praying there were other runners out just as early as she was. Unfortunately, her pants were bunched mid-thigh, and her attacker was able to catch her before she could make it back out to the jogging path.

  He yanked her back and backhanded her across her face causing her head to whip back and slam against the ground. As Serena’s vision flickered in and out, there was a shout and the sounds of a scuffle nearby, then the concerned face of a woman appeared in her line of vision asking if she was all right. Before Serena could answer, everything went dark.

  * * *

  As soon as Chayse saw the news story about Serena she called the crime stopper number they had displayed on the screen and told them Serena’s name and gave them her grandmother’s contact information which she still had from sending the pie. She then called the hospital and gave them the same information just in case there was a delay in the police getting it to them.

  When they asked who she was Chayse had told them she was an acquaintance then hung up. After all, she couldn’t very well tell them that Serena had been a customer she had wanted to ask out on a date. She had done the right thing by calling, and all she could do now was hope Serena recovered soon.

  At least that’s what Chayse told herself, but the following day she found she just couldn’t get Serena off of her mind. She worried whether Serena’s family had been notified and had to stop herself from calling Serena’s grandmother just to make sure. Instead, she found herself standing outside Harlem Hospital Center holding a bouquet of roses but hesitant to actually go into the building.