Spark (Heat #2) (8 page)

"You're sure you don't want to come to the party with me?" I turn to the side again to get a better view of my ass in this dress. "This is the best work you've ever done, Soph. Get a load of my ass in this."

She laughs loudly as she playfully spanks me over the black fabric. "The cut outs make it sizzle."

The cut outs make it hot as fuck. There are three of them, all circular. One right above my cleavage, the other a few inches over my left hip and the third is on the outside of my right thigh. The dress itself is made of some type of clingy material so it's wrapped around me like a glove. It's so tight that my black lace panties never made it on. I'm completely naked under the dress, which makes it easier when it comes to feeding Tyler his birthday cake.

I decided that I'd do that after the party has wound down and we've come back here. It'll be after midnight by then which means his birthday will have officially arrived.

"Put on a dress and come with me," I whine. "You haven't been out in weeks."

"Can't do." Her mouth quirks. "I'm meeting someone for coffee and then I'll sketch out a new design.

"Does this someone have a cock?"

"Cadence," she shrieks my name at such a high pitch I wince.

I sigh dramatically. "Don't act like you've never seen one. I only asked if you were meeting a man for coffee."

She scrunches her nose, making her face contort. "I wish. It's a new start at work. She's feeling lost in the city. I'm her only friend."

"I'll be her friend too," I offer as I bend over to adjust the straps on my heels. "We can have her over for dinner next week. You pick the day."

"We'll celebrate your new job with her." She wiggles her finger in the air. "You're going to accept it soon, right?"

I shrug.

I'm still not sure. I took Sophia's advice and kept the offer to myself. I need to make a decision before I bring it up with Tyler. Regardless of where our personal relationship ends up, my career is mine.

I call the shots. I make the rules and until I can decide whether to leave Nova, I'm keeping the opportunity Barbara offered me under wraps.

***

"I'm here for the private party." I inch to the left to look over the burly door attendant's shoulder. The club is filled with people, the music pulses a rhythmic beat that is intoxicating. I felt like dancing as soon as I walked in.

"Which party?" He pushes his index finger on an earpiece that is hidden somewhere beneath his shoulder length dark hair. "There's a few tonight."

"Monroe," I say loudly. "It's a birthday party for Tyler Monroe."

"The chef?" His mouth curls into a lazy smile. "The guy that owns Nova?"

"That's him."

"Give me a sec." He motions to the earpiece. "I'll track down the room it's in."

I nod as I sway my hips. I close my eyes briefly, soaking in the frenetic energy that I always feel when I step foot in a place like this.

"We're not hosting the Chef's party." The man with the earpiece walks back toward me. "We don't have that booked."

I bite my bottom lip before I pull up the text message from Maribel on my phone with the details of Tyler's party. I turn it around so the guy helping me can see it. "It says the party is here, at your club, tonight."

He reads it carefully before he locks his gaze on mine again. "We have another location in Hell's Kitchen. Do you want me to call and see if it's there?"

"No," I call over my shoulder as I hurry for the door. "That must be it. I need to take off if I'm going to get there before he does."

"C'mon," I say under my breath as I stare at the screen of my smartphone. I sent Maribel a text right before I hailed a taxi asking for confirmation of the address. I've gotten nothing back yet so I type out a quick text to Drea.

My phone rings almost instantly.

"Drea?" I ask quietly.

"Hey," she says back loudly. "How the hell are you?"

"How the hell are you?" I ask with a smile. "Are you at the party?"

"I'm getting there."

"It's at the club in Hell's Kitchen, right?" I stare out the window as the taxi slows for a red light.

"Nah." She speaks quietly to someone else. "It was moved to Maribel's place."

I lean forward to tap the driver's shoulder, signaling for him to pull over. "When did that change?"

"When Tyler fucked up our whole plan," she begins with a laugh. "I was at work when it happened."

Tyler told me, and everyone else, he was going to be working on new recipes at Nova's kitchen tonight. It worked seamlessly into Maribel's plan. Darrell was going to be there with him so it was a no brainer to have him suggest a beer at the club to celebrate Tyler's birthday. When he walked into the club, we'd all surprise him.

"How did he fuck it up?" I stare out the window as driver edges the taxi to the curb.

She laughs. "I don't know all the details but he decided to have dinner with someone at his place. He was on cloud nine about it all afternoon."

"Dinner at his place?" I feel a tug of anxiety in my chest.

"That's what he said," she goes on, "Maribel panicked and told him about the surprise party. He said he'd make time after his dinner but he didn't want to hit up the club so Maribel convinced him to stop by her place for a drink. We're all hanging there later."

"No one told me." A sigh escapes me. "A heads-up would have been nice."

"Blame Maribel for that," she drawls. "She said she'd let everyone know about the change."

Everyone but me, apparently.

"Hey, I'm out for a drink right now, Cadence. Do you want to meet up before we head there?"

"I need to go home to change." I look down at my dress. "I dressed for the club."

"You've got lots of time. Tyler said he wouldn't be at Maribel's until after ten."

"I'll see you at Maribel's," I say before I end the call.

"Are you getting out here or are we heading somewhere else?" The taxi driver turns to the side to look at me.

I hesitate for a beat of my racing heart before I give him the address to Tyler's building. The surprise party may have been cancelled, but that doesn't mean I can't surprise Tyler myself.

***

The doorman, bless his soul, didn't bother to call Tyler to warn him of my arrival. I probably seemed overly grateful for that when I inched forward to kiss him on the cheek. He blushed. He's old enough to my grandad, but there was no mistaking the lust in his eyes as he raked me from head-to-toe.

I step off the elevator with one of Tyler's neighbors. It's a woman, mid-forties, her hair bunched in a low bun near the nape of her neck. She's wearing a uniform, her nametag hidden beneath a sweater.

It's too hot for that many layers. It's past dusk now but the heat at this time of year hangs in the air until well into the night. She's trying to hide where she spends her days. I can tell by the fact that her left hand has fisted around the front of the sweater, pulling it taut around her.

I wish her a goodnight as we part when the doors of the elevator close before it races back down to the lobby.

I make my way to Tyler's apartment. I walk slowly to avoid a turn of my ankle on the uneven carpet that blankets the floor in the corridor.

I rest my forehead against the door before I knock softly.

I hear footsteps and then they stop. There's a hesitation so I pull back and smile at the peephole in the center of the door. It's right at my height. I feel like I'm back in grade school, sitting atop a stool while a photographer snaps a picture for the yearbook and for the faded gold frame that my mom would always display atop her television.

The picture of me may have changed yearly, but the frame never did.

The door opens then, slowly.

I peer around it. Tyler's on the other side, his face impassive, his clothing wrinkled. I smell the lingering aroma of what must have been a delicious meal.

"Happy Birthday Eve," I say with a smile.

He looks at me, his eyes searching my face, before they drop to the dress. "Why are you here?"

I swallow hard. "I wanted to see you before the party. Can I come in?"

His gaze darts behind him. "I'm not alone, Cadence. This isn't a good time."

My foot taps restlessly against the carpet. He made dinner for another woman. He's going to fuck her. I need to leave. "Who is it?"

He sucks in a deep breath. "I can't do this."

I shiver, suddenly acutely aware of how I'm dressed. I wore this for him. I displayed myself as I raced around Manhattan trying to get to a party for him and now he's going to shut this door in my face so he can sink his cock into someone else?

"You don't want me to come in?"

"I want you to leave."

"If I go now I won't come back," I say defiantly. I'm not going to be one of his lovers. I feel too much for him. I want him all to myself. I want to be his only lover.

"I don't want you to come back."

I have to step back from the force of his words. I reach for the door's edge to anchor myself. "You don't want me to come back?"

"You're fired. We're done."

"What? Tyler…no…you don't mean that."

"Guess who cooked me dinner tonight? Hunter arranged it as a surprise for my birthday." He tilts his chin up. "Take a stab in the dark, Cadence."

"I don't know," I whimper as I steal another look over his shoulder. I want to say Neela's name but I don't want the confirmation that she's in there, waiting for him.

"I'd introduce you, but you two have already met."

I close my eyes, trying to battle against the confusion. It can't be Brendon, can it? There's no way in hell Tyler would ever sit down to a meal with my ex-boyfriend. They loathe each other.

"Say something, Cadence."

"Who is it, Tyler?"

"I've wanted to meet him for a decade." He chuckles, but there are notes of anger there, of disappointment. "I've tried to emulate him, strived to be just like him."

My throat tightens.

"He made my favorite dish." His tone is bitter. "We toasted to my success and then I showed him. I fucking showed him that video of you on the morning show because I was so proud of you. You were so beautiful, so vulnerable. He teared up when he saw your face. He said your name."

"Tell me who it is," I demand, panic boiling inside of me.

"See for yourself." He steps back and swings open the door, allowing me a full view of his living room and the tall figure staring down at Tyler's laptop. The video is paused on a close-up image of my face.

I recognize the man before he turns in our direction. He owns Magari, along with seven other restaurants across the nation and another two in Italy. He's won every major culinary award there is. World leaders, celebrities and even royalty have raved about his food. He's built an empire worth millions. Legions of his fans flock to the tapings of his televisions shows and his cookbooks are instant bestsellers.

If there ever was rock star in the world of food, this man is it.

As he pivots toward me, his face brightens. There's instant recognition in his eyes.

I turn away from his gaze, my pulse stuttering, my heart aching.

This can't be happening.

Chef Sergio Firi is supposed to be a world away in Italy.

"Speak of the devil," Tyler hisses the words out. "Look who's here, Sergio. It's the love of your life."

Part Three of The HEAT Series

Coming soon

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