The Caterer

Chapter 18

H ALF A DOZEN FOOD TRUCKS lined The Community Center’s parking lot. Picnic tables and pop-up tents selling cotton candy and drinks filled the massive lawn. People filled the bleachers around the basketball courts. This was Delany’s favorite day: the finals of a bracketed tournament with youth teams from all over the D.C. area. They held qualifying events at local high school gyms for the last few weeks, the final eight making it to today where they’d play with college and professional recruiters in the stands. For some of these boys, this was their chance.

Eddie found him and said hello. Eddie Hart ran Delany’s nonprofit that worked to get food on the ground after a natural disaster. Comida worked in any kitchen available to start bringing meals (or comida) to people who lost everything. Delany got the idea while watching a hurricane devastate the Virgin Islands. His mother sat immobile as she watched the TV and wept. Delany used his connections to go help. While there, he talked to people who all complained about the inadequate food they received .

He met Eddie in 2000 at an NSO event. At the time Eddie did logistics for the Army. He told Delany what he wanted to do might be possible if they could get the supplies in before the storm. Then 9/11 happened, and Eddie got sent to Iraq. He lost his left leg in a bomb blast in 2005. Delany saw Eddie again and asked if he wanted to go on the next Comida trip with him. They ended up in Florida after a hurricane, Eddie in his element. Delany asked him to join Comida full-time. Eddie led their efforts all over the world, bringing good meals to people after the worst moments of their lives.

Delany walked with him toward Alice’s food truck. The slight Caribbean vibe gone, the truck now reflecting her heart and how much she loved D.C., Hasty Pudding across the top. She was starting to take herself seriously. Today she served the street food that was slowly building her reputation. Carver sold his famous cakes and tarts in his van next to her.

But a younger woman was working Alice’s window, and she wasn’t at Carver’s van either. He let Eddie order first and then went to the back doors of the truck where Alice worked at the grill in a red short jumpsuit, long orange apron, a wide blue wrap over her hair. Ne-Yo played on the radio, Alice singing along and bopping as she cooked. He laughed to himself, something simple and honest in the moment.

“You look good,” Delany said. Alice jumped. She smiled at him, wiping her hands on her apron and handing two boxes of food to the woman working the front.

“How was the trip?”

“My daughter does not like nature that much after all.” He crossed his arms loosely and looked at Eddie. “I took Helene to the Galápagos. She loved the water and some of the animals, but the bugs got to her. By the third day, she refused to go anywhere without my sun shirt. I tried to tell her to get one before, but she told me she wanted to get sun kissed. Now I’m burned. ”

Alice handed another box to the woman. “Is this your order of tacos?” She slipped some pork onto the grill.

“Why do you think that?” He smiled.

Alice shook her head. “The Valencia special. I can’t guarantee it will be as good now.”

“I trust your judgment.” He talked to Eddie until Alice handed him their meals.

“So does this mean you need me to start dropping off meals again?” As part of their arrangement, Alice cooked meals for him over the week. He had someone who coordinated with the nutritionist on the team before he retired, so it wasn’t anything new. Delany realized his daughter needed to be getting well-balanced meals somewhere.

“If you don’t mind.”

He found a place to sit with Eddie, who stopped talking and closed his eyes.

“That’s heavenly,” he said with the bite still in his mouth. “It just melts.” He groaned. “Damn, that’s good.”

“Don’t let Morse hear you say that.” Delany took a bite, unsure how she did it. It was cumin and garlic, onion and citrus—maybe. Yet when she put it together the flavor came in waves. The meat melted on his tongue; the tortilla freshly made. Maybe she could make some of the food he liked in Ecuador.

“Might get him to step up his game.” Eddie took another bite. “We need to pray for a slow rest of the season. Morse asked for some time, his wife got diagnosed with breast cancer. His attention was really divided.”

Morse was the lead chef they took on the trips to coordinate the meals, a truly vital piece to what Comida strived to accomplish.

“Maybe the hurricanes are done for the year.” Delany took another bite. Not what Valencia made, but close.

They finished their meals, Eddie walking back to his car. The announcer came on the speakers—the tournament would start in ten minutes. Things would be quieter then; he could ask Alice about the last few weeks. Only, he loved watching the guys play. It reminded him of when the game was fun, and he could just play with his friends after school. He sat with some of the recruiters as the first game started, Delany forgetting everything but what was happening on the court.

He congratulated the winners. The next teams coming out to play. Delany threw the ball for the tipoff and then went to stand beside the bleachers.

“So when do the girls get to play?” Alice asked behind him. Delany turned. Her hand rested on the railing, her apron gone, the blue wrap still in her hair. He reached to get a fleck of cilantro off her cheek. She thanked him and reached for it. Delany ran his fingers across her palm and between her fingers, hooking them together.

She pulled her hand back and cleared her throat before repeating her question.

“What do you mean?” He faced her. Even after working for hours in a hot truck, she was gorgeous. He’d thought about her a lot on the trip, wondered how things were going or what she was doing. It would have been inappropriate to call her. Alice made it clear from the start this was a business arrangement. Still, her pale green eyes drew him in. The muted pink lipstick he hadn’t noticed before showed off her full lips.

“Well, you’re doing all this work for the boys to get noticed, when do the girls get their shot?” she asked.

Delany looked over his shoulder. “Oh!”

“You own the Mystics, right? I’m sure some of them would appreciate the representation.”

“I never thought…”

“Hard to know the score if you don’t watch the game.” Bobbie’s hands were on his shoulders as he shook him, Alice taking a noticeable step back .

“Why are you here?” Delany shrugged him off and glanced at Alice as she walked back to her truck.

“You know how I love these charity events.”

“You avoid them at all costs.”

“It’s our neighborhood, Bulldog.” Bobbie hit him in the chest. “I realized maybe it’s time I took more of an interest in our philanthropic endeavors. Make sure you’re not giving away the store.”

“Keep your head on acquisitions. I don’t need you checking up on me.”

Delany glanced toward Alice’s truck, Bobbie following his gaze.

“Bulldog, don’t trust the caterer. She’s just after your money.”

“Alice Gibson is not after my money.” His heart sped up, his skin tingling.

“I’d be on my best behavior too if that much dough was making eyes at me. You can’t trust outsiders.” He crossed his arms.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Delany turned to go back to the game.

“She’s dating Harry Clarks.”

“From TabiKat?” That didn’t seem possible given her level of hesitation working with him. He could not see Alice dating the man who sold out her sister, plus she never mentioned Harry. Not that he’d guess that was her type.

“They were both at Carrie’s birthday on Friday, basically making out in the cookout area. She’s not who you think.”

“Go home, Bobbie. We all know you hate where you came from.” He turned to leave.

“This is why I told you to let me handle things.” Bobbie’s tone changed from playful to incensed.

“What?” He faced Bobbie again .

“I don’t get why you hired me to run Macon if you were going to come in and step on my toes. Why don’t you trust me anymore?”

Delany took a deep breath, Bobbie was having a harder time adjusting than Delany thought he would.

“I didn’t hire you to run Macon. I hired you to identify acquisitions.”

“I’ve run that company for the last two years.”

“While I was still playing.” He got closer, not needing there to be a scene. He relied on Bobbie more before he retired, and maybe a few lines got blurred. Bobbie lacked the people skills to lead a team, so Delany put him where he could flourish—finding companies and helping Macon grow. For some reason, that wasn’t enough. It couldn’t be the money, Bobbie made mid-six figures.

“Why are you shutting me out?” Bobbie asked.

“How am I—?”

“You’re never in the office and yet took my power to run things. I never know where you are. You’re taking meetings without me.” Bobbie huffed. “I didn’t need you to babysit me at the TabiKat acquisition.”

“How did I babysit you?” Delany crossed his arms.

Bobbie stood taller. “Coming in at the eleventh hour to close the sale. I find companies and bring them on board and you…”

“I—what, Bobbie? Tell me what I am allowed to do at my own damn company.”

“You haven’t been there until now.” His body was tense.

“You’re right. I’ve been the silent head of Macon since we started. But I’m here now, so get used to my being at the acquisition meetings and reading over contracts and being more present because Macon is my company. You work for me, remember?”

A cheer erupted from the stands, Delany looking over his shoulder. This wasn’t the place for this conversation. Bobbie said something under his breath and stalked away. Delany went to watch the game. He could get why being relegated down the hall, as Bobbie said, felt like a shift. But his best friend needed to realize he was another VP and get back in his lane. He was not the face, decision-maker, or brains behind Macon.

Most of the food trucks were gone when Delany checked before the championship game. He watched from beside the bleachers as Alice took a series of pans from her truck and put them in Carver’s van, wanting to know what changed when Bobby came up. He’d seen Alice interact with dozens of people at the events and she’d never been so skittish. Katy told him Bobbie started sniffing around for a contract, asking if Macon planned to acquire Hasty Pudding. That man would not understand an altruistic action if his life depended on it. Delany had no desire to acquire Alice’s company. This was trying to help someone get their dream off the ground. Besides, he did love her food.

His phone went off, Nadia inviting him to a movie night.

‘Little Boo is asking for you.’ Not wanting to go back to his empty apartment, he made the drive to Baltimore. Nadia let him in, her T-shirt loose and low-cut, running shorts tight to her frame.

“Where’s Helene?”

“She crashed. I thought we could hang out; you could tell me about your trip. I got some Hennessy.” His favorite. She hated it. “You trusted me once, remember? I haven’t always been the enemy.”

He sighed and went to sit on the sofa in the backroom. She came back a minute later with two drinks, setting the bottle on the table. She asked about their time, seemed interested in what happened. Most times she found his forays around the world, as she called them, boring. She didn’t get why he chose to go to smaller hotels and off-the-grid locations when luxury hotels waited with people ready to take care of his every whim. Sitting on the beach drinking mai tais sounded like a form of torture to him. She kept offering to book a family vacation, convinced she could help him appreciate the perks of being rich.

She refilled his drink before turning her body into his, her arm resting on the back of the couch.

“When’s the last time you got any stress out?” She held his gaze, her fingers reaching for the buttons of his shirt.

“I thought you wanted to hear about the trip.” He smirked. “Nod.” It’s what he called her since high school. Her hand lingered after she got his shirt undone.

“Come on, Bulldog. We had fun once. Kept each other company.”

“In high school.”

“First love.” She moved to sit on his lap, her knees beside his hips. “All those other women leave, but I’m still here and don’t ask anything from you. You think some bimbo Bobbie finds will get where you came from?”

She did have a point. But this was playing with fire. He was exhausted from the trip, wanting to sleep. There was a mountain of things he needed to do before work in the morning. His first day back was always chaotic.

“I should go.”

“Three glasses of Hennessy, you’re not fit to drive.”

Her hand slid over him as she kissed his neck. It did feel good. He sat up more and looked at her. She waited for him to lean in and kiss her before she wrapped her arms around his neck, grinding against him.

They had sex every place they could in high school. His mother told him to be careful, unwanted kids could derail everything. He took the lesson to heart, had always been careful. Nadia knew how to turn heads. He asked why no one in her life seemed to stay. She bemoaned how men refused to step up. Who besides him was worthy of her little girl ?

She laid back on the couch. Delany moved over her, his hand sliding under her shirt. At their age, it was a nice release sometimes. It didn’t mean anything; they both knew it. Someday, one of them would meet someone.

“Mommy!” Helene called down from the stairs. “I can’t sleep.”

“I told you to go to bed!” Nadia shouted back.

“I’m not tired.”

“I thought she crashed,” Delany whispered.

“This girl’s sleep cycle is all off thanks to your little trip. Helene Goin, go to sleep!” She watched the entryway, both of them waiting. Delany looked at what was happening, pulling back. They’d only slept together a handful of times since Helene was born. Nadia always seemed to call right after a breakup, a solid reminder of why he shouldn’t trust outsiders. Women all pretended to be okay with Helene and Nadia’s place in his life, but something always came up and they left.

“I’m going to go.” He stood, Nadia shifting to the couch.

“Come back, Boo.” She waved her fingers in his direction. “I can do what you love.”

“I’m good.” He crept to the front door, casting one last look toward Helene’s room, unsure why he ever agreed to come up that late.