“You’re right about that,” Jasmine admitted. “Whenever I tell them I’m coming out with someone it’s usually my former coworkers, Tonya and Nydia.”
His eyebrows lifted slightly. “So, you never come here with a man?”
Jasmine’s expression was impassive. “The last man they saw me with was my ex-husband, and that was more than three years ago.” She closed her eyes for several seconds. “I’ll tell you later about my ex.”
Cameron felt as if he’d won a small victory when Jasmine offered to tell him about her failed marriage without him prying.
He followed Jasmine out of the bathroom, through a formal living and dining room and down a narrow hallway to the kitchen. Cameron was temporarily stunned by the space with French doors spanning two walls, a huge wood-burning fireplace taking up half of another wall, and the last with a massive commercial Viking stovetop and grill. Shiny copper pots were suspended from a rack over the stove. Mouthwatering aromas wafted from warming dishes on a side table hewed from a tree trunk.
“We’re eating buffet-style today,” Danita announced. “So grab a plate and dig in.”
Cameron wanted to tell Danita she didn’t have to tell him more than once because he’d only had two cups of coffee earlier that morning. Keith uncovered the dishes to reveal steamed dumplings, soft-shell crabs, crab cakes, lobster tails, grilled prosciutto-wrapped asparagus, grilled shrimp, and bite-size spareribs. There were also bowls of Caesar and potato salads, and couscous.
“Don’t be shy, son,” Keith urged, when Cameron filled his plate. “I made just enough for the four of us, which means I don’t intend to have leftovers for tomorrow. Whatever we don’t eat, I’ll box up for you and Jasmine to take back with you.”
“Do you cook like this every day?” Cameron asked.
Keith shook his head. “Not for Nita and myself. We have another two weeks before we’ll open for business, and she always makes breakfast for her guests, while I do most of the cooking, along with my assistants, for the restaurant.” He uncorked a bottle of rosé. “I support our local wineries, so if you haven’t sampled Long Island wines, then here’s your chance.”
“Do you shop locally?” Cameron asked after he seated Jasmine, and then sat beside her.
“Yes,” Danita answered as she set down her plate. “There was a time when we bought our vegetables from farmers in the area, but after Keith suggested we grow our own we were able to save a lot of money.”
Cameron savored each delicious morsel he put into his mouth as he listened to Keith explain how he had decided to open the restaurant after some of their guests extended their stay for more than one or two nights, and occasionally complained about having to leave the premises to eat dinner.
Keith took a sip of wine. “I didn’t want to wait for approval from the town for the variances to build a new structure, so I found the abandoned barn and arranged to have it moved here. It took a couple of months to renovate it, and the following spring we were open for business.”
Cameron touched the napkin to the corners of his mouth. “What made you decide, other than saving money, to grow your own produce?”
Keith smiled. “My grandfather had a watermelon and peach farm in Georgia. And when I was a boy he taught me everything I needed to know about farming. I suspect he wanted me to take over the farm once he retired, but I’d decided early on that I did not want to become a farmer. I’d excelled in high-school football and got a full athletic scholarship to the University of Georgia.”
“So you were a Georgia bulldog.”
“Woof, woof!” Keith said, grinning from ear to ear. “Where did you go to school?” he asked Cameron.
“Columbia.”
Keith whistled. “I’m impressed. So, my niece has an Ivy Leaguer for a boyfriend.”
Cameron nodded. “I’m the lucky one, because I never thought I’d meet someone like her who has brains, beauty, and talent.”
“How long have you known each other?” Danita questioned.
Cameron shared a glance with Jasmine. The set of her delicate jaw indicated she wasn’t too pleased being the topic of conversation. “Jasmine and I met last fall at friend’s wedding.”
“Is that the friend who’s been after you to move to New Orleans and help run her business?” Keith asked.
A moment of silence ensued before Jasmine said, “Yes.”
“I’ve been after my niece to come and manage this place, because Keith and I are going to give ourselves another seven or eight years before we retire completely,” Danita said.
Jasmine flashed a brittle smile. “You both have other nieces and nephews that would be willing to pick up the slack once you retire. What about your brother’s son, Uncle Keith? Brent has been complaining for years that he’s tired of working in the criminal justice system and is looking to get out. If he can supervise correction officers, then it should be a cakewalk for him to manage this place.”
Keith appeared deep in thought. “I keep forgetting about Brent. Jazz may be right, Nita. Brent can also cook his ass off, so it would be easy for him to learn to prepare some of our more popular dishes.”
Danita’s expression mirrored indecision. “We’ll talk about it later.”
Cameron felt like a voyeur where he had been drawn into the lives of Jasmine’s family members. He held up his wineglass. “This wine is excellent.”
