Chapter 2
Her body ached from standing for twelve hours. It was overheating from the constant steam and Dutch oven-feel of the sweltering confines she was in. Her muscles kept clinching with the onset of a cramp, and she was just downright tired. Yet none of this could stop the constant thoughts of what needed to get done. She had a flux of customers flowing into her establishment, demanding her signature workâno, her art, as she preferred to think of it. And people yelled all around her as they busied themselves with the many orders going out.
Sanna's lips slightly tilted up into a soft smile as she let her gift flow through her. She painted her vision on the plate in front of her and sprinkled the seasonings of her love over the roasted beef loin braised in a Creole wine and onion reduction sauce. The roasted loin nestled on a pillow of grits, asparagus spears, and sautéed collard greens.
Yes, Sanna was a culinary artist, and her restaurant, Aset, was a five-star hit in St. Louis. She was proud of her baby. She paired the culinary art with her passion for soul food, while showcasing other artists in the St. Louis and East St. Louis area. She loved it. Her restaurant was creating such a buzz, people from Chicago, Atlanta, and Washington, D.C. had been blowing up her phone with catering requests and offers to open up another restaurant. She was blessed, and she knew it. And she was always grateful for her blessings.
But if she didn't close her kitchen down soon, she was going to pass out. She had forgotten that she had promised her godsister that she would stop working overtime in the restaurant. She had hired a trusted crew of people, her friends from culinary school. They would shut the restaurant down by one in the morning and get everything done before having to get up again and arrive at the restaurant again at eight in the morning to start all over again. It was grueling, and she was always tired. But she had learned to balance running the restaurant and having a life.
She was twenty-seven, a curvaceous and healthy size fourteen, with thick curly black hair, and long, caramelized crème brulé legs on a five eight frame. It took a long time for her to come to a place where she was happy with her ample bosom, slightly plump rear, and overall plus-size glory. She had overcome the teases and harassment of her youth and didn't give a bit about how men or women judged her looks.
She knew she was pretty. Had many tell her they loved her milk chocolate-colored eyes that exquisitely formed into an almond shape that framed her delicately curved face and pouty lips. She also had many tell her how they loved the feel of her skin, and marveled at how soft yet firm she was. Her godnieces loved to lay on her and just sleep while feeling secure against her.
She smiled as she put the final touches on her chocolate truffle soufflé cake with caramel mousse and lavender powdered sugar.
Yet, even though she had learned to love herself, she was insecure. She couldn't help it, not with the ghosts of her teen years still peering from locked and closed doors in her mind. She had dealt with those demons, but it didn't mean that they didn't try to scratch at her from time to time. She often felt those demons were the reason why she had become so afraid of relationships, and why she hadn't had a serious one in years, but she was fine with it as best as she could be. This is who she was now. The young girl in her past wasn't the mature successful woman she had become. She had plenty who had tried to date her now because of her elevating status, but she was blessed with a mother who'd taught her all about the games men play and what the loss of true love could do.
Closing her eyes as the final plate went out, her chocolate-covered hands rested splayed out against her workstation as a sharp pain suddenly tore through her temples. Her brows furrowed as she tried to deal with the sensation.
“Damn!” escaped her lips. She rode the pain as flashes slashed across her vision. This was the tenth migraine she'd had this month, each one getting worse, with more flashes of light.
She couldn't understand it, and she prayed every night that they would stop. Sometimes she would wake up in the middle of the night drenched in sweat, as the headaches and flashes interrupted her sleep. She thought one day she was going to pass out from it at work, but it never happened.
Sanna had decided then to go get a complete physical, which turned out to be of no use. Her doctor couldn't figure it out, nor could the other five doctors she had gone to. Her mother was worried for her but kept saying that she'd get used to it. All she could do was look at her mom, mouth slightly dropped, staring at her as if she had been drinking.
Get used to it?
The hell, she would get used to these attacks on her brain, she was very close to saying, but before she could, another stab to her mind caused her to blank out, experiencing flashes of many different people, some she didn't know, places and situations she never could understand juggling around in her mind.
These flashes were like her own mini-movies. Sometimes she liked what she saw, but many times they scared her to her core. She could never remember the full tales or details, but she'd learned to begin to write down whatever she could remember, especially the constant erotic dreams she kept having about her and a mystery man. She could never see his face or anything. The only thing she could do was sense him, his body, his scent, his heat, and feel the slickness of his skin as he lay near her side, tracing her body with his large hands. She could also feel his weight as he sat at the foot of her bed. Yeah, he kept her comfortable at night, safe, so she couldn't complain.
Tears fell down her cheeks as she stumbled out of the kitchen to head to her private office. With the hallway wall as her anchor, she fell into a black abyss and sobbed as another memory raked her brain.
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A year ago, Kyo had taken Sanna to BJC Hospital downtown. They had been looking at an empty historic building with a representative from Protection Corps, an architecture and restoration firm, wondering if this was the spot for a nice upgrade to their restaurant. The art deco feel of the granite and marble walls called to her. She couldn't believe she had found this treasure, especially with a lot of old buildings in St. Louis being torn down. She felt this was what they needed, this old building that filled her with a sense of hope.
Walking away from Kyo and the flirting representative, Sanna took in the huge, comfortable space with a beautiful street view and great access, especially for parking. She was happy she went with a new firm that had a taste for rehabing old buildings throughout St. Louis, East St. Louis, and Alton, IL. She loved the respect they gave to the buildings and land. The firm made sure that the buildings they worked on were eco-friendly, which was especially important to Kyo. The building's statues of standing guards from Japan and Egypt as well as Native American guards had drawn Kyo as soon as Sanna showed them to her. They couldn't believe they had both driven by this prime piece of property and never noticed it. Six months later, they were its sole owners.
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Sanna smiled, looking at her marble stairway with beautiful Egyptian etchings. The work was exquisite, and one could tell it was all carved in love. Reaching out, she let her manicured fingernails softly brush its smooth surface. The heating marble melted and slid against her fingers, making her touch the etchings more as she stared in amazement, not noticing each intricate marking softly glowing with her strokes.
She inhaled sharply as she heard a sudden, soft humming song fill her mind and being, while her body fell with a hard thud, pain searing through her.
The migraine made her think of the time when she'd had it so bad that she had to be hospitalized. She was twenty-one then and in culinary school. One moment she was vying for a chance at working in France as a sous-chef for an exchange program, the next she was waking up in the hospital looking at a set of her old childhood drawings her tear-streaked mother had given her.
Her migraines had always brought forth strange images, but she had no idea that even as a child she'd drawn those very scenes. Each bright well-drawn squiggle had depicted her life in the present. She was an adult, surrounded by her family, owning Aset restaurant, and a tall man stood behind her, with his hand on her waist as darkness tried to reach for them. Her drawings took her mind off the reality that she was laying in the hospital because of her blackouts, even though the images scared her.
This time it felt worse than when she was twenty-one. She clutched the side of a nearby wall, a slight pain continuing to sucker-punch her temples. Her body felt as if it was overheating when she stumbled into her private office.
Tears of pain slid down Sanna's soft cheeks as the blackout took her over, making her twist and turn. The images were coming faster and harder every day now, as if she had to help someone or something. Each image flashed past her like she was in the middle of a live slide show, the gust of force of each picture stinging her cheeks as she reached out in pain. She felt her mind split as she fell to her knees on the floor of her office, her psyche begging for the pain to stop. She was sure she was dying.
Fighting for the pain to stop, she swung at invisible hands as she heard the distant shouting of a scared voice demanding that she wake up and get up. She felt the hands rock her and pull her as the images suddenly sharpened around her mind then broke into a piercing scream in her mind, “
Get Out!”
Breaking out of her vision, she jerked up, sweat blanketing her brow. Instinct had her push herself up into a low crouch with an urgency she had never felt in her life. Fright-flight had her suddenly running as she noticed Kyo leaping over falling debris and flaming pieces of their restaurant falling from the ceiling. She didn't understand how her baby was on fire. Yet, as she looked around, she swore she saw a lone body with glowing eyes watch her then begin to chase both her and Kyo.
She heard Kyo hiss as her body suddenly compressed and slid through a narrow opening, pulling Sanna with her.
Blinking at that smooth move, Sanna didn't even want to ask how the hell her homegirl had just pulled that off. Their baby, Aset, was on fire, and something was chasing them hard.
“I got you, sis!” Kyo yelled as she clutched Sanna's hand. Carefully pulling her up as she ground her feet and tried to keep her cool.
Sanna sputtered, her head spinning while her body tensed with adrenaline, “Aww, hell to tha naw. Kyo, you see what the hell is happening?”
Looking around, Kyo shook her head, tears filling her eyes at their restaurant in disarray. She herself couldn't believe what was going on around them.
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Kyo had been waiting for the last patron to leave. She had just happily put up the wedding cake she'd made for a customer who'd begged for her custom sugar art to be used on it while they were both in the kitchen working their asses off.
She knew Sanna was finishing the last sample dessert for the patron, and so instead of keeping staff on hand for one man, she'd decided to let the last remaining waiter clock out. As co-owner she would handle whatever else needed to be done.
They both hated working overtime and making staff stay late just for one customer, but they had decided to always treat the last customer with no less hospitality than any other customer, an approach that brought great reviews to the restaurant. So today wasn't any different with this patron.
The handsome man kept eyeing Sanna and watching both of them. Kyo wasn't offended. She had seen many quietly observe her and her “sister,” thinking of ways to flirt with them. It amused her, but this time it felt a little off.
Kyo wanted to smile and flirt back, but something kept making her skin crawl. The man commented on how beautiful she was and how her skin seemed to shimmer with starlight.
“Oh, thank you. That's just lotion,” she lightly commented. She had to chuckle and try to please the customer as she waited for him to leave.
People often commented on the soft glow of her skin and how it seemed to shine in certain light. She was used to it. Her skin had always had that glow. Her own mother had the same glow and didn't think anything of it. Kyo always put it down to her dark-complected mother, who was of Okinawa descent.
Kyo stood at a statuesque five eight with a curvy, athletic build. She loved playing with her thick black hair, getting it in spiked asymmetrical bob haircuts with a single stripe of color in her eye-covering bang.
Her mother and father had always said her personality came out in her art, and it was her art that introduced her to Sanna. They grew up together in North County and went through everything together, including defending their friendship, because in St. Louis it wasn't often that a young black girl was seen with a young Asian girl, or a young Asian girl with one jade-green eye and one ever-changing hazel eye for that matter.
From the day they'd met in kindergarten during finger painting, to them both going to college, to Kyo dropping out of med school and, later, both of them enrolling in culinary school at the same time, they'd stayed with each other like white on rice. She always felt she had to protect her best friend through everything, and it didn't bother her in the least bit. Sanna's battles were teaching her to protect herself, and it made Kyo proud to call her “sister.”