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ring. “Given any more thought to my suggestion?”
    “What suggestion?” Toussaint asked.
    “My moving to your department and us working together. And about taking me with you when you move to LA.”
    Toussaint laughed. “Girl, the plans aren’t even off the paper yet and you’ve already got us living in Malibu.”
    “Oh, please. You know your plans, at least phase one, are going to happen. You always get what you want, Toussaint.”
    Not always
, Toussaint thought, remembering his interior designer’s polite but firm rebuff the week before. And then, as if he’d conjured her up, Alexis St. Clair came walking toward him, followed by a handsome, nicely dressed older man.
    “Alexis!” Toussaint said, rising and extending his hand. “I see that designing isn’t the only place you have good taste.”
    “Hello, Toussaint,” Alexis replied as she shook his hand. “This is one of my favorite places to dine, and that was so even
before
I met you.” Alexis felt eyes on her and looked beyond Toussaint. From the look that was returned, she assumed the woman to be Toussaint’s love interest. “I’m Alexis, Toussaint’s interior designer,” she said, wanting to nip any misconceptions in the bud. Alexis prided herself on living a drama-free lifestyle and intended to keep it that way. That’s one of the reasons why, as fine as Toussaint was, and as much as she’d wanted todo otherwise, she’d refused his advances. “I never mix business with pleasure,” she’d told him.
    After introductions were made, Toussaint spoke again. “Would you two care to join us?”
    “We’d love to, but we have business to discuss,” Alexis answered. “Shyla, it was a pleasure meeting you. Toussaint, I’ll see you next week.” The gentleman with Alexis shook Toussaint’s hand and nodded at Shyla before following Alexis around the corner to the restaurant’s second dining room.
    “Wow, Toussaint, keeping secrets from me. You didn’t tell me you were redesigning your penthouse. And you’ve found quite the attractive designer to assist you.”
    “I don’t tell you everything, woman.”
For instance, I won’t tell you that there’s something about that sistah that turns me all the way on!
    While Chardonnay returned, sans barbeque stain, with their salads and placed them on the table, Toussaint pondered his latest prey. Alexis was a short, dark brick house who reminded him of Lauryn Hill. Her features were exotic, which in the conversation the week before, Alexis had attributed to her Caribbean grandparents. She wore her hair dreadlocked, the thick, long dreads falling almost to her waist. But it wasn’t just her looks that drew Toussaint to her. Alexis was a study in contradictions: at once bold and shy, confrontational yet compassionate. She’d nailed Toussaint’s personality and taste with one walk-through of his condo. And she had a subtle sense of humor that she unleashed at the most unexpected times. And there was something else, an alluring, mystical quality that he couldn’t define. She was a puzzle, one that Toussaint planned on solving.
You always get what you want, Toussaint
. Toussaint planned on putting Shyla’s words to the test. In the meantime, he steered their conversation back to a safe topic—business. “What are your thoughts for our holiday campaign?”
    Back in the kitchen, Chardonnay waited impatiently for her order. “This is for Toussaint,” she told the head chef, yet again. The two worked well together and were always teasing around. “Act like you know.”
    “Look, I put quality on the plate no matter who it is. Everything I do is quality, believe that.” The chef’s eyes roamed Chardonnay’s body before he gave her a wink. “Yeah, whatever, man. Just try not to burn the catfish.” A minute later, the chef put a perfectly prepared plate on the pickup counter. “Order up!”
    Chardonnay immediately walked over and reached for Shyla’s order. “Move!” she said to Jermaine, who