Trinidad Tryst: Menu of Passion, #2

By Robert Morrow and Toni Carrera

London Cartwright got back to the basics in Scotland but the warm sun and bronzed figures in the Caribbean sparked yet another passion; that of collaboration. Despite a revengeful beginning, London discovers that some of her competitors have more than just great food on their minds.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Robert Morrow
• Release date: Apr 20, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224289226

Robert Morrow

Robert was a member of the of the early four-person marketing team behind the Tim Horton's chain in Canada, and was instrumental in launching the "Roll up the Rim to Win" campaign in the early 1980s. He has also been a Taekwondo and Pilates instructor and has hosted the Canadian National TKD team. He is now a full-time author and his #1 bestselling real estate books have helped thousands of people profit from the largest investment they'll ever make. Robert's true passion is fiction, however, and his debut thriller, "New York Fried", introducing former CIA trainer turned chef, Artichoke Hart, was an instant hit. He created Sunao International Publishing in 2018 in order to assist other authors self-publish and, in that capacity, has collaborated in the creation of two romance series, as well as launching a handful of other independent authors, all of whom have reached #1 or #2 on bestseller lists, due to his unique marketing techniques. Robert currently lives in Southern Ontario where he continues to write fiction, assist other authors, and aid investors to realize their dreams in real estate. To join the mailing list and receive FREE titles, write [e-mail] with "I love FREE books!" as the subject.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

London

It was hard to tear my eyes off the turquoise water, but I wasn't ready to face the ocean again.  The flight from Scotland to Trinidad had been a tangled knot of connecting flights and long lay-overs.  All I wanted to do was stretch my legs and find something to eat.

Anything but fish.

Just the thought of fresh fish brought Ian's delectable little shop to mind, along with mouth-watering images of his fish and chips all wrapped up neatly in a square of newspaper.  Not to mention the views from his cottage on the wild coast of Scotland. 

Or that handsome, gruff Scotsman himself.

Ian was the real reason I wasn't ready to dive into my tropical vacation in Trinidad and Tobago.  I had gone so far as to invite him along but he'd just caught my face in his hands and kissed me lightly.

I'm already where I'm meant to be.  Besides the sun doesn't agree with a Scotsman, Ian had said.  You go have your fun in the sun.

He really meant it, and he had made our goodbye easy.  I was still reeling from the fact that I had finally had my first fling.  There was a hint of bittersweet, but mainly the satisfaction I had found in Scotland.

My stomach grumbled as I checked in to the Newtown Hotel.  Any suggestions for fine dining? I asked the concierge.

St. George's Dragon, he answered without hesitation. 

The valet hoisting my bags to his shoulder snorted.  He then swallowed hard and tried to wipe his opinion away.  The concierge gave him a sharp look.

Is there something I'm missing? I asked.

The concierge started to shrug but stopped himself and adjusted his tie.  The chef's a bit volatile but the food is amazing.  Has a Michelin star and everything.

Sounds perfect, I said.

I let the concierge schedule a taxi for me and went to my room to shower.  I was back downstairs in a little black dress within a half an hour and the taxi was waiting to whisk me through the lively city.  After the revelations I'd had in Scotland, I was ready to get back to something familiar.

St. George's Dragon was a combination of old-fashioned colonial decor and sleek dinner service.  The wait staff wore long linen aprons over black pants, crisp white shirts, and narrow white bow ties.  After a suitable long wait, I was shown to my table near the banging kitchen door. 

My phone rang and I picked it up to hear Madison, the owner of my NYC restaurant, ask, How's the food?

What do you mean? I asked, looking around.

The GPS is enabled on your phone, Madison said.

So, you're spying on me?  I followed a judgmental waiter to the back terrace and joined the smokers and cell phone users.

Madison laughed.  A little bit.  I just wanted to make sure you left Scotland.  The last time we talked you were starting to sound pretty cozy there.

A pang of loss hit me but I shook it off.  I actually just walked into St. George's Dragon.  Happy?  I plan to check out all of Trinidad's food from the top down.

Madison launched into a long list of restaurant suggestions she had been waiting to share.  I muttered agreeable sounds while I tried to peek around the neighboring buildings.  I had no idea where I was, except about ten feet from the door that connected the kitchen to the alley.

A tall man stepped out and even Madison heard my sharp intake of breath.  He had short-cropped black hair and a clean-shaven jaw even though it was nearly nine o'clock at night.  When his dark eyes flashed in my direction, I suddenly realized how hot and