What Love Tastes Like (28 page)

“You can't be serious.”

“I am.”

Bastion shook his head, got up, and walked to the elaborate bar in his Santa Monica home. “Care for a drink?” When Nick shook his head, Bastion placed two ice cubes in a tumbler and poured himself a generous amount of bourbon. “Nick, I know you love Tiffany, but backing out of the deal if she feels uncomfortable…. Man, I've known you for almost twenty years, have been your partner for a decade. This just isn't like you.”

“I know. But there's more to life than business, Bastion.”

Bastion rejoined Nick in the sitting area. “Look, I know you're getting older, you want to marry, have a family. You've still got time to do all that, Nick, plenty of time! Don't throw away the deal of a lifetime because some woman can't understand how important it is! Tiffany's great, but if she would ask you to choose between her and your livelihood, is she really the woman you want to spend the rest of your life with?”

“Tiffany hasn't asked me to do anything. It is my decision to show her that she means more to me than money.”

“We're not just talking money, Nick,” Bastion said, in a raised voice. “We're talking over a hundred million dollars in the next few years!”

“You don't have to remind me, Bastion. I know how much the deal is worth! Okay?”

“Okay, buddy, calm down.”

“You calm down!”

Bastion's blue eyes pierced Nick's, but he remained silent. Nick stared right back before dropping his gaze. He could count on one hand the times he and Bastion had argued. Ninety-nine percent of the time they were on the same page. Nick hoped they could get back there on this issue, but even if they didn't, Nick's mind was made up.

Nick took a deep breath. “I'm sorry for hollering at you, B. This situation is crazy, and it's got me on edge. And believe me, it's not just Tiffany that has me rethinking my alignment with this group. It's Stan.”

“I agree. It wasn't right for him to share confidences with Angelica. We're prepared to mete out a consequence for that breach. But we need him with us. He's crunching the numbers, Nick. And we're too close to nailing this thing to change personnel. You know how long it took for our Chinese partners to develop their confidence in us. They like to take things slow, get to know all the players. If we changed up now it just might…Stan's an asshole. Maybe we'll buy him out after the deal is over, but right now…”

“I know, it's tricky.”

“Which is why you cannot bow out of this deal. Tiffany's a smart girl. She'll support you, Nick, I know it.”

After discussing a few matters regarding other businesses, Nick left Bastion's house. He appreciated Bastion's belief in Tiffany, that she'd never make him choose between his work and her love. Nick believed in her, too. But he also knew her vulnerabilities in this area, because of her father. Putting his business first could cost him Tiffany. He didn't want to take that chance.

Keith pulled his carry-on into the foyer and closed the door. He stopped and looked around. He'd been spending so much time in Los Angeles that his Chicago home seemed almost foreign to him. He stopped at the hallway table, where the housekeeper had neatly stacked the mail in a copper holder. There was nothing urgent in the contents, he knew, but he thumbed through the pile anyway. As he figured, it was mostly junk mail: sale papers, donation requests, and offers for another dozen credit cards.

After showering off the tiredness from a grueling week and a three-plus-hour flight, Keith headed to the kitchen. The housekeeper had stocked the refrigerator in anticipation of his arrival. He eyed a container of salad and another marked “tuna.” He pulled these from the refrigerator, placed the tuna steak in the microwave, and cut a large chunk from a loaf of French bread on the counter. As he placed the salad on a plate, he remembered another meal—one prepared and served by his daughter.

Keith took the plate and walked to his large dining room table that seated ten people. He'd lived in this house for almost ten years and had never used all the chairs at one time. Aside from the various wives and girlfriends who'd inhabited his life, and his business associates, Keith's life after Janice had been rather lonely. He hadn't really thought about these things before. But his conversation with Gladys had caused him to think about a lot of things, especially the time he'd missed with Tiffany, and how little he knew about the woman who—because of her mother's anger and hurt following their divorce—did not bear his last name.

“Nobody ever got a visit from a dollar bill on their deathbed,” Gladys had said near the end of their conversation. “When people are preparing to meet their Maker, it's family they think about and who they want to have around.”

He no longer had an appetite, so Keith left his untouched plate at the table and began walking aimlessly through his three-bathroom, four-bedroom, twenty-five-hundred-square-foot condo. Tiffany had never been there; in fact, Tiffany had never visited him in Chicago. It was the first time he'd pondered this truth, and it didn't feel good. He walked through the living room that had been decorated by a renowned designer, Candice Olson. She was a star on the HGTV Network, and in heavy demand. He'd had to pull some strings to get her, and the living room design alone cost more than fifty thousand dollars. Every piece was tailored, matched, and had its place in the subdued elegance of gray and black. He took in the artwork on the wall, all originals, as he left the living room and walked up the spiral staircase to the great room. There, the subtlety of the living room was left behind for a bolder mood. Bold colors enhanced the theme of black and gray that had been carried from the living room, and the original Salvador Dalí that Keith had personally escorted from Spain anchored the room.
I have it all,
he thought as he continued the spontaneous tour through his Lake Shore Drive abode, including the master suite, home office, and library in a separate wing.
So why am I feeling empty?

Keith eventually returned to the dining room, where he threw away the tuna but ate some of the French bread and salad. He then opened a bottle of Pinot Noir, and took that and a wineglass back to his bedroom. He drank and thought into the night, almost until dawn. He analyzed his whole life—from the mean, lean streets of Detroit to conference-room meetings with some of the most powerful men in America. He thought about his ex-wives, and about Angelica. He tried to see his life five years from now, and to imagine how he wanted it to look.
In five years, I'll be sixty years old. It's time to think about what I'll do for the last third of my life, and who will be here with me.
Which was why, Keith concluded, the Chinese venture was so important. It would set him up for life.

Keith slept until noon, a rarity. When he awoke, he called his assistant and told her to cancel the meetings for which he'd flown back to Chicago, and book him on the next flight out to LA. He'd left some unfinished business back on the West Coast, and he refused to let another day go by without taking care of it.

When Nick returned to his office from the restaurant, where he'd spoken to Chef Wang, someone else was waiting for him.

Keith stood as soon as Nick entered the executive suites lobby.

“I told him he needed to make an appointment,” Kim said, before Nick spoke.

“It's okay, Kim,” Nick replied. He walked over to where Keith stood with a hand outstretched. “Keith.”

“Nick, I need to speak with you. I asked for Tiffany downstairs and they said she was ill. Is she okay?”

“A little exhausted, stressed, but she'll be fine.”

Keith didn't miss the unspoken message, that he was part of the reason for Tiffany's anxiety. “I know I don't have an appointment, but what I have to say can't wait.”

Nick eyed Keith for a moment, and then shook his hand. “Come into my office. Kim, hold my calls.”

The two men were silent until they'd entered Nick's spacious office and he'd closed the door. Nick bypassed his desk and walked over to the sitting area with a magnificent view of the ocean. He gestured for Keith to sit in one wing chair, while he sat in the one facing him.

“Nice view,” Keith began.

“It is, but I don't think that's why you came to my office. I'm not sure Tiffany is why you're here, either.”

“Let's get this straight off the bat. I love my daughter.”

“Does she know?”

Two powerful, determined Black men eyed each other for a long moment.

Keith wrestled with his emotions. On one hand he despised the man in front of him, the one aligned with the competition that could take his dream. On the other, there was a begrudging admiration for the success Nick Rollins had built through hard work, tenacity, and intelligence. And then there was the fact that he was involved with Keith's daughter, and from what he could see, loved her. He knew he'd have to tread lightly to keep this meeting civil.

“Not that it's any of your business,” Keith began, just to show he wasn't a pushover. “But I'll admit that I haven't always been the best father where Tiffany is concerned. I had my reasons, and I don't expect you to understand. But I'm not here to rehash the past. I'm here with a clear view toward my future.” Keith took a deep breath and uttered the sentence he knew could change his life. “My company is backing out of the negotiations. I don't know about the other players, but as far as I'm concerned…the China deal is yours.”

Nick looked at Keith, his chin resting on steepled fingers. He wasn't sure what to say.
Is this an under-handed ploy to get us to drop our defenses, slow down the negotiation process? Or is this really about Tiffany?
There was only one way to find out. “Because of my relationship with your daughter?”

Keith stared out the floor-to-ceiling window, then rose and walked over to it. He watched as the waves lazily kissed the shore and in that moment realized that while he should have been tense, uptight, on edge—he felt just like the scene before him, calm. What he was about to do may have looked crazy, but it felt right.

“I was twenty-six when Janice got pregnant,” he began, with his back to Nick. “I wasn't ready. See, I wanted to have a nice nest egg in the bank, a house that was paid for or close to, and be well established in my career before bringing kids into the equation. Janice disagreed…one of the many things Tiffany's mother and I didn't see eye to eye on. Janice said she hadn't meant to get pregnant, but I didn't believe her. I thought she did it to tie me down. Back then, I was traveling four to five days a week, home mostly on weekends. That didn't stop just because I had a child.

“My father wasn't able to provide for me, so I was determined that Tiffany would want for nothing. And no,” Keith said, finally turning to face Nick, “it wasn't just for her. It was for me. To prove that I had what it took to be the best at what I did. I know what it's like on the other side of the tracks, and I never want to go back there. I wanted to have it all, at all costs. And I've come close to fulfilling my dreams. But it seems I may have lost something in the process.

“Tiffany's a beautiful woman, and I feel I hardly know her.” Keith sighed, turned back to the ocean view. His eyes became misty, and Keith never cried.
So much time has been lost…years I can never get back.

“She's a lot like you,” Nick finally said.

“Hmph. That's been part of the problem—we're both stubborn and want to live life on our own terms. So,” Keith clasped his hands together, his voice changing from one of nostalgia to being all business, “that's why I'm here. I've already talked to my team and told them that I'm pulling out to focus on other ventures. And, because I know your success involves Tiffany, I'll pass on any information that might help you close this deal.”

Nick stood then, and walked toward Keith. Nick was taller, but Keith had bulk. Both were studies in strength and resolution. “You're a good man, Keith Bronson,” Nick said when he reached him. He reached out his hand and the two performed a soul brothers' handshake. “Tiffany will be ecstatic when I share this news.”

“Yeah, eyes on the money, just like her daddy.”

“No, Keith, her eyes are on you. She'll be happy because you put her first.”

Tiffany didn't know she'd dozed off to sleep until the phone rang. “Hey, Joy.”

“Hey, girl. How are you feeling?”

Tiffany struggled to a sitting position and yawned. “A little better, I think.”

“I can still come over there if you want me to.”

“Thanks, sistah, but I'm okay.”

“Have you tried eating anything yet?”

“No. I'll try and drink some juice after I wash my face and brush my teeth. Nick said he'd come home early to take care of me.”

“And to think you almost quit working for that man. You'd better be glad I—” Joy clamped a hand over her mouth.

Tiffany rolled out of bed. “I'd better be glad you what?”

Dangit!
She'd never told Tiffany about the phone call she'd made to Nick and the advice she'd given that led to Tiffany rescinding her resignation. “Oh, uh, never mind.”

“Never mind, my behind. What did you do, Joy?” Tiffany walked into the master bath, put the phone on speaker, and began washing her face.

“I, uh, look. Don't get mad at what I'm about to say. It's because of me you're living a fairy tale.”

Tiffany put toothpaste on her brush. “I'm listening.”

“I called Nick that week you resigned, after he canceled your vacation plans and flew to New York. I knew that you were just being your usually stubborn self, and since you wouldn't listen to me, I called to see if Nick would.”

Tiffany stopped brushing her teeth. “And?” she asked around a mouthful of toothpaste.

“And I told him how you didn't like to be told what you couldn't do and if he actually agreed that you weren't cut out for a five-star restaurant, they'd probably have to pry your fingernails away from the stove.”

“You heifah! Wait a minute.” Tiffany quickly rinsed her mouth, wiped off the excess water with a towel, and picked up the phone. She knew exactly the conversation Joy was talking about, when Nick had questioned her abilities to be a top-shelf chef. She'd been livid, and at that moment became more determined than ever to succeed. Tiffany forgot all about being sick. She stomped into the kitchen and snatched open the refrigerator. “Nick didn't mean those things he said? He spouted that B.S. because you told him to?”

“Worked, didn't it?”

“What is it with everybody interfering in my life? First Grand,” Tiffany said, remembering Grand's message that she'd spoken to Tiffany's father. “And now you!” Tiffany poured a glass of Perrier, hoping the carbonation would help her stomach's queasiness.

“People butt into your business because they love you, Tiffany. Your grandmother does, and so do I. We want to see you happy, and I'd never seen you happier than when Nick Rollins walked into your life. So,” Joy continued when Tiffany remained silent, “you can thank me now, or later.”

Tiffany finished drinking her water. “Thank you,” she said, then belched.

“Ooh, that's foul. I'm getting off this phone.”

“Yeah, but it made me feel better.” She belched again.

“Bye, Tiffany.”

“Hey, Joy. What about the book? You said you were getting ready to send me what you wrote. That was a week ago.”

“Yeah, but I read it again and thought it was whack. Writing is hard, girl. Makes me have mega-respect for all my favorite authors.”

“So what are you going to do, give up?”

“Have you forgotten you're talking to Joy Parsons? I found an online writing course. My first class is next week.”

Tiffany whooped. “Now that's what I'm talking about!”

The two best friends made plans to hang out on Tiffany's next day off. After ending the call, Tiffany wasn't sure which had made her feel better—the spirited conversation or the sparkling water. Her stomach had settled enough that she felt like taking a shower. She had just pulled on a pair of cashmere sweats when the tinkling chimes announced the front door opening.

Minutes later, Nick walked into the room. “Hey, baby.”

“Hey.”

“You feeling better?” he asked, his voice full of concern. Nick held his hand to Tiffany's forehead.

“A little bit. Still don't know if I can eat anything, though.”

“I thought that that might be the case. Which is why I had Chef whip up some delicious vegetable soup for you. Are you up to joining me in the living room? I have someone I'd like you to meet.”

Tiffany frowned. “Nick, I'm sick. I'm really not up for company.”

“Please, baby. This won't take long.”

“Who is it?”

“A businessman. He's only in town until tomorrow, so…” Nick didn't finish because there was no legitimate end to the sentence.

“I'm going out just like this,” Tiffany said finally.

“You look beautiful, baby,” Nick said, kissing her forehead.

Tiffany rolled her eyes as she slipped her feet into flat sandals and followed Nick out of the room and down the hall. She stopped short when they turned into the living room.

“Dad?” Tiffany shot a look at Nick, and then looked back at her father.

“Hello, Tiffany. I went to the restaurant to speak with you. They said you were ill. So I spoke with Nick, and…here I am.”

Tiffany stared at her father, speechless. Nick quietly left the room.

“You've always been first in my heart, Tiffany,” Keith began, speaking softly. “But you've never known this because I've never shown it. I think it's about time I did.”

With those two sentences, twenty-eight years' worth of hurt and misunderstanding began receding from Tiffany's heart. And by the time Keith Bronson left Nick and Tiffany's home two hours later, the healing balm of a father's love was working its magic.

Shortly after they'd said good-bye to her father, Nick and Tiffany cuddled in bed.

“I can't believe it,” she whispered. “I can't believe he turned his back on all that money…for me.”

“That's what happened.”

“How did you talk him into it, Nick?”

Nick turned his body so that he could look into Tiffany's eyes. “It wasn't me, baby. Your father came to my office and delivered the news. Said he'd been doing some soul searching, and wanted to make some changes.”

“It had to be something that Grand said. It's probably too late to call her tonight, but—”

“Baby.”

“Yes?”

“Stop it.”

“Stop what?”

“Stop trying to come up with a different reason for why your father did what he did. Accept it for what it is, baby. He did it for you. He walked away from the deal because he wanted you, the daughter that he loves, in his life.”

Tiffany began crying.

“Feels good, huh? To know your father loves you so much.”

“Yes, but it's not just that. Now, I feel kinda bad that he backed out, that I was so insecure in how he felt about me that it took something of this magnitude to believe him.” The more Tiffany thought about it, the worse she felt. “It's not right, Nick! What if later on he resents me for what he could have had?”

Nick took Tiffany in his arms and began rubbing her back. “I told Keith the deal was his, Tiffany. That
I
would back down. But your father said no. It was his decision to walk away. You have nothing to feel bad about. Besides, Keith Bronson is one helluva businessman. He'll be all right.”

 

Keith took his seat in first class, his two reasons for coming back to LA completed. He'd given Angelica a face-to-face verbal thrashing along with her walking papers, and he'd made things right with Tiffany.

The flight attendant came over immediately. After ordering a gin and tonic, Keith pulled out his BlackBerry and began checking messages. A few minutes later, it rang.

“Bronson.”

“Keith, it's Nick.”

“Nick. How's Tiffany, is she okay?”

“Tiffany's great, man. You'll never know what you did, bowing out of the deal like that.”

“Well, I'll have to retire a few years later than I would have with this venture, but it's worth it. The look on my daughter's face last night showed me more than anything could that I did the right thing. I'm not in on this deal, but there'll be others.”

“That's why I'm calling, Keith.”

Keith perked up, took a sip of the drink he'd been given. “Yeah? You've heard about something coming down the pike?”

“Actually, this had to do with the China situation. We've had an abrupt change in personnel, and I'm wondering if you know anybody good with numbers.”

Keith froze, sure he'd heard incorrectly. “Good with…”

“Stan Koespesky is no longer on the project. We're down to the wire, so whoever takes his place will have to get up to speed on what's going on immediately. You know anybody who, say, has a working knowledge of this situation—and has the experience, expertise, and confidence to come on board a project like this?”

A slow smile began to creep across Keith's face. “I might know somebody,” he said. “If the price is right.”

“I'm thinking of him getting an equal percentage as all the others on the team. He will take the share meant for Stan. After all, the real work is going to start after this deal is signed.”

Keith chuckled. “You're a good man, Nick Rollins.”

“I figured since one day you'll be my father-in-law, this move might help me get in your good graces. And it will make your daughter a very happy woman.”

“I think you've already done that, man.”

“No happier than she's made me, Keith. That girl's my heart.”