McDonald_TWT_GENVers_Feb2014 (5 page)

Wonderful scents filled the air, reminding her of how hungry she was. She put a hand over her suddenly rumbling stomach, blushing hard when Koka laughed. His refusal to politely ignore her physical distress instantly deflated his god-like status and snapped her back to reality.

She shrugged and tried to look as unrepentant as possible. “Sorry. I missed lunch and the champagne in the limo made things worse.”

“To assuage that basic animal need will be my pleasure. Come to my kitchen and let me feed you,” he said, holding out his hand for her to take.

Not sure whether to be offended or charmed, Sabine opted for the latter and let him lead her by the hand through his house. In the kitchen, a frail older woman in a wheelchair smiled in welcome. Her chair was parked by a small table near a wide doorway leading to another wing of the house. Somehow Sabine couldn’t see Koka sitting at that tiny table. The seats were much too delicate for someone his size.

When she smiled back at the woman, Koka’s hand tightened on hers momentarily as if he might keep her from going over to say hello. Reaching out without thinking about it, she patted his chest through the apron, until his grip eased.

“It’s all right. Go back to your cooking. I can introduce myself.”

She patted a second time until Koka finally released her hand. She felt him watching warily as she walked over to greet the woman still smiling at her.

“Hello,” Sabine said, holding out a hand. “I’m Sabine Blakeman—the woman who won the bachelor auction.”

“
Aloha
, Sabine Blakeman. I am Pekala Whitman—Koka’s grandmother.”

“Hello, Pekala Whitman. It is a pleasure to meet you. You must be very proud of your famous grandson,” Sabine said.

“I am indeed. Koka has done all this for me instead of opening the restaurant he has been saving for since he went to cooking school,” Pekala said.

Sabine looked at Koka who was now head down in his cooking, but she knew from his eavesdropping yesterday that his ears were sharp. She was sure the man was listening to every word said. She slid into the tiny chair nearest the wheelchair to bring herself eye level with Koka’s grandmother.

“Koka is young enough and talented enough to open a restaurant any time he wants. I have clients in my work who are local celebrities like him. TV fame is often fleeting. I think it’s very wise of Koka to ride the wave of his popularity while he can.”

“You talk very sweetly of him. Do you admire my grandson?” Pekala asked.

Sabine nodded. “Yes. A man who honors his commitments to his family is very admirable. Your grandson is following his passion and that is the secret to a happy life, I think. I’m sure his talent will take him wherever he wants to go in his career field.”

Pekala chuckled as she looked across the room. “Now I see why you shaved before she got here.”

Sabine’s eyebrows rose. “He shaved? Oh my God, I didn’t even notice. My stomach was growling and I was mesmerized by the food on his apron.”

Pekala laughed roughly, the effort hurting her chest, but making her soul sing with joy for her grandson. “
Ko Aloha Makamae E Ipo
. It has been a long time since I laughed. And an even longer time since a woman so thoroughly ignored my Koka’s pretty face.”

“You’re embarrassing our guest,
Kupunawahine
.”

Sabine grinned at his comment. Koka’s musical masculine voice, while full of gentle chastisement, also carried a hint of true embarrassment.

“
If anyone is embarrassed, it’s not me,” Sabine denied. She grinned at the man in the kitchen whose doubtful gaze held hers briefly as she spoke. “I am sorry I didn’t notice your face, Koka. Thank you for shaving for me. I do appreciate it.”

Her stomach chose that moment to growl loudly again. Mother Nature was not helping her pathetic attempts at flirting. When Pekala laughed a second time, Sabine sighed and rubbed her stomach. “Well, now everyone knows I’m an honest woman at least.”

“You need to hurry and feed her, Koka. Your
Ke Aloha
is starving while you amuse yourself listening to her polite conversation with me.”

“Oh, I’m not really in a hurry to eat,” Sabine began, only to be made a liar by yet another loud growling rumble. It echoed louder in the room than whatever Koka had sizzling over a fire. “My God, I just can’t catch a dignified break tonight.”

Shrugging away her fading need to impress the man instead of the cook, Sabine grinned and shook her head while Pekala covered her smiling mouth with a shaking hand.

“Please tell your stomach that I am hurrying,” Koka ordered, pausing to look over and grin at her red face.

Sabine groaned and dipped her head. “I have never been so embarrassed in my entire life.”

Pekala smiled. “Koka, your Sabine brings life and energy to this dreary, rainy town. Her nature is full of the sunshine you miss so much.”

“Sunshine? Are you talking about me?” Sabine asked, laughing at the poetic description of her embarrassment.

Pekala nodded. “Yes,
ku`uipo
. I am speaking of you.”

“Thank you then. Those are wonderful compliments. Please continue to laugh at my growling stomach all you wish,” Sabine said, smiling as the woman nodded.

She watched as Pekala pressed a button on a remote hung on the arm of the wheelchair.

“I would, but laughing has made me tired. And yet very happy, too.
Mahalo E Ke Akua No Keia La.
Thank you for the gift of your visit.
Aloha
, Sabine Blakeman. Please visit again.”

A woman in a nurse’s uniform discreetly appeared in the wide doorway. Sabine returned her soft smile as she guided the wheelchair back through it.

“
Aloha
, Pekala Whitman,” Sabine said, hoping it was the right thing to say.

After Koka’s grandmother disappeared from the kitchen, Sabine stood. She left her purse on the small table and went to the large kitchen island across from where Koka was still cooking.

“Is it okay if I sit here?” she asked.

“Yes, but I could bring your food to the table if you preferred,” he said.

Sabine shook her head and climbed up on one of the low back stools. “No thanks. I’d rather watch you cook, if that’s okay.”

Koka nodded and placed a small glass in front of her. “Pineapple juice cocktail for a starter—it’s my own recipe.”

Sabine laughed. “Pineapple. Of course—pineapple. Too bad Pekala got tired. She’d probably find this funny too. I’m going to hurt my friend Joe first chance I get.”

“I did not fix this because of him or his teasing. Now stop fussing and drink,” Koka ordered, tapping the counter with his finger.

Sabine lifted the tiny glass and sipped. The heat of whatever liquor was in it settled in her stomach like a small fire while the flavor of the fruit burst against her tongue.

“Oh wow. That is really good,” Sabine said.

“It is called a
Sunshine Shooter
,” Koka said. “I named it just now in your honor.”

Sabine laughed. Was he for real? “Now I know why all those bid fans raised so high in the air when you appeared on the stage. I may have been the only woman there who didn’t take one look at you and instantly know you were one of those guys with a master’s degree in charming women.”

Koka ignored her jab and pointed at the rest of her drink. “Finish it all. It will set your palate for the rest of the food.”

Rolling her eyes at his dramatic order, Sabine tilted the tiny glass and swallowed the rest of the contents down. Then she snorted when Koka put a full martini glass of what looked like more of the concoction in front of her. “I’m going to fall off this stool if I drink anything else on an empty stomach. Got some pretzels I can munch on to soak up the alcohol?”

“Don’t make me come around there and punish you for your smart mouth,” Koka warned.

Reaching behind him, he lifted two small plates and set them in front of her. “This is your first course—welcome bread with a typical Polynesian salad.”

“Aren’t you eating with me?” Sabine asked, blinking at the beautiful presentation.

Koka smiled. “Eventually. I eat enough of first courses while I am preparing food. We’ll have the main entrée together. Thank you for asking. Now please eat what I have prepared. The next course is already waiting.”

Sabine speared a mandarin orange and something green beneath it. Her tongue wept for joy with the first bite. Groaning in appreciation, she dug in and devoured the offering, not bothering to praise it until the last bite had disappeared.

“That was wonderful,” she said.

Koka instantly swept the empty dishes away and replaced them with another plate.

“You’re having two entrees for your meal. The first is Furikake salmon over pad Thai noodles. Just a little. I wanted to offer you a variety of food since I wasn’t sure what you liked. I would rather die than send you home hungry.”

“I’m much too easy for that to happen. I love food—pretty much all food,” Sabine teased, smiling at his concern. She lifted a fork and dug in. It was just as good as the salad. “I can see why you want to do a restaurant. You’ll make a fortune. This is wonderful—and spicy too. Do I taste some sort of chili?”

Koka tilted his head. “Very good. Yes—red chili. It’s tricky to get the right amount. Too much and it burns the palate for the rest of the dinner.”

“No worries here. The amount is just right,” Sabine said, cleaning the contents of the plate in her enthusiasm.

She watched Koka remove the now empty dish and deposit it into a sink with the others. He stepped to the stove, lit a burner, and splashed something from a tall slender bottle into it as it started to sizzle.

“I make my own dressings, oil blends, and seasonings. They are Polynesian, but more modern than what Pekala would have used in her cooking. I worked many years to perfect them, but it was important. Otherwise, I would be like every other chef from the islands.”

“I can’t imagine you being typical at anything. Do I smell ginger? And . . .” Sabine sniffed the air, “. . . something sweeter?”

Koka snorted and grinned at her. “Surely, you recognize your favorite ingredient.”

Sabine laughed and rolled her eyes. “Pineapple—of course.”

His back was turned to her as he plated a portion of the entrée for both of them. Her gaze dropped to his backside, encased in jeans that flattered his athletically fit form. It made her grin when she thought of all those women bidding on him and yet here she sat in the man’s own kitchen staring at his butt.

“I feel your eyes on me,” Koka said. “Are you staring at my ass? I thought you sat at the counter to watch my cooking.”

Sabine laughed at his nerve and wondered what he’d say if she said yes and admitted she had been staring at his ass. She’d probably get a lecture. For some reason, Koka found open desire from women offensive. If only the bidding crowd had known to play it cool for this interesting man. “Good thing your grandmother retired for the evening. Now she won’t have to hear this discussion. That’s a very rude assumption for a first date, Koka Whitman.”

“Rude? I don’t know about that. But yes, it is an assumption. I would still like to know if it was true,” he demanded.

Sabine shook her head and lied. “No of course it’s not true. For your information, I was just wondering how you managed to get your apron tied behind you in such a perfect bow. The tails are completely even, like you have OCD or something. That’s freaking amazing considering how big your hands are. I can’t even get a bow shaped into two normal size loops when I’m watching what I’m doing. You are a man of many talents, my friend.”

“On the surface, that sounds very much like joking. But I think I prefer to believe you are flirting with me again. It is a poor attempt, but a man can be generous when he likes a woman enough,” Koka declared.

He lifted the apron over his head and hung it on a nearby upper cabinet knob, checking out the length of the tails. So what if they were the same length? It was a habit. How many times had he tied apron strings? Hundreds? Thousands?

Ignoring Sabine’s smirk as she sipped the milder fruit juice cocktail he had made for her, Koka walked around the counter carrying two plates of steaming food. He liked it when Sabine leaned back as he slid one in front of her. He was tempted to brush his wrist against her breast to see if it was as soft as it looked, but that really would have been rude, and he didn’t want her to leave angry with him.

“Be careful there—the plate is hot. This is pan-seared pork with pineapple-kiwi salsa over a mixed bean salad. Normally, this preparation is a creative next day use of leftover pork chops. Enjoy it, but please stop eating when you start to get full. I want you to leave a little room for dessert,” he ordered.

Sabine sighed in pleasure as she picked up her fork. “I’m going to have to start watching your show. No professor could possibly be more charismatic. Your musical voice is as enticing as your cooking, Koka. Thank you for my personal cooking demonstration tonight.”

Koka nodded. He could hear the sincerity in her voice. Maybe his ass accusation had been out of line. “Thank you. Now eat before it gets cold.”

Sabine smiled at his bossy command and sliced a piece of pork off before speaking.

“So tell me the truth. Are you always so austere about your cooking or is it that you’re just deeply unhappy with the way your career is going? Because anyone with your looks, your voice, and your cooking talent ought to be one of the happiest human beings walking around on the planet.”

She popped the bite of pork into her mouth and groaned in pleasure again. “And damn it man—if all leftovers were this good, I’d be the size of my freaking house. I’ve had enough trouble keeping my weight down since I turned forty. I do not need the possibility of delicious leftovers haunting my refrigerator.”

Koka looked sideways. “You hide your body so well that a man can have no opinion on the matter of your weight.”

Sabine laughed because she normally wished that were as true as he made it seem. “Who says I want another man to have an opinion? I just escaped that fate. I’m not even officially dating yet.”

Koka laughed. “So when you do start dating, are you going to wear something that shows your figure and lets a man have a look at the possibility of you?”