Keigo turned his back towards her moving over to the aquarium on a stand beside the window. Lifting the little shaker of fish food from beside the tank he sprinkled in some flakes to the koi fish.

A reflective smile came to his lips.

Why did he feel anxious? A light frown creased his brow. Another few minutes passed in silence with him watching the fish rudely crowding each other to pluck the food flakes from the surface of the water. Why was she being so quiet?

He was amazed by her change of behavior. Since meeting her, he hadn't heard her be quiet for such a long period, and it made him suspicious. Was she hoping he would let this matter go altogether? If so, she was not going to be happy about his plans for her. After thinking over the discussion he had with Marco, he realized having a chef at his disposal was the answer to his current problems.

Turning to stare at her Keigo got a nice view of her bottom. She was running her fingers beneath the leather straps of her sandals. A tender smile came to his lips. She really does hate wearing shoes. He shook his head and savored her upturned backside. Nice.

Stupidly he wondered if she had an aversion to underwear, along with her dislike of wearing shoes. From the outline of dark nipples, he saw a few moments ago, he was sure she seemed to have and dislike of bras. Keigo started fantasizing her walking about the house completely void of all clothing. Damn. Why was he accessing her this way? What she wore or did not wear had no bearings on what he was about to propose. His interest was strictly in a professional capacity. She wasn't his type. His type was serious minded big breasts red heads, like his wife.

Keigo had to silently admit, there was no denying Etta Jones had a nice ass. His thoughts turned once more to the woman bent before him. He followed the outline of her skirt dipping between two full butt cheeks wondering did she avoid underwear too or was she wearing one of those lacy thongs nestled between like dental floss? How could she be blessed so perfectly in the booty department, yet was nearly void in the breast department?

"Are you finished?" Etta voiced, craning her next to catch him checking her out. Her lips twisted in a wry smile.

Keigo turned scratching a non-existing itch on the side of his nose. "I…I…" His face flushed red. What the hell were they talking about anyway?

She crossed her arms in front of her. Lifting arched eyebrows at him in question, "So what’s it going to be? Have you changed you mind about my cooking for you? Do you plan on making me serve my thirty days in jail?"

Keigo continued to stare into her face without answering until she shrugged her shoulders, looked away and continued.

"I’m asking because I don’t want to rot in a jail cell that some pain in the ass judge threw me in for exerting my rights "

He chuckled. This was the mouthy Miss Jones he had grown accustom too. He noticed how she shifted from foot to foot. Seeing her long toes tense and release, he could imagine her pondering over the idea of shedding her shoes once again.

"Won’t you have a seat, Miss Jones?" His eyes return to her face and held.

Etta eyeing him suspiciously asked, "Why do you keep staring at me like that?" She asked him moving a slender hand to her face wiping at something that wasn’t there. "Is there something on my face or something nasty on your mind?"

"What? Nasty? No there isn’t anything nasty on your face. Why would it be?" Confused he supplied, "I wasn’t staring, I was thinking about what I’m about to ask you. I was wondering if what I’m about to suggest to you was a suitable penalty."

"Well, if you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking, then I would say, don’t even think about it. No sir! I’m not that type of woman and it isn’t happening!"

His eyes widened in surprise at her outburst. Etta’s face had become flushed and her nostrils flared with anger. He replayed their conversation in his mind to figure out what he said to upset her.

It took Keigo another moment to realize the dense woman thought he was talking about, sex. Did she actually think he was the type that would use his power to bargain for sexual favors? She must have a terribly low opinion of his character.

Keigo cleared his throat loudly. He contemplated bringing this meeting to a close and calling security to hall her back downstairs to lockup. That was all his reputation needed was a sexual harassment suit.

"Don't flatter yourself." He voiced his irritation. "Why would I want to sleep with you?" Keigo scolded himself silently for sounding too harsh. He didn't mean it, but he didn't want her to feel she had needs for concern. His intentions were honorable.

"Oh please, Man. who wouldn’t want to sleep with this?" She cocked her head to the side in question and swept her arms wide. "Look at me. I’m sexy and pleasant. I can make you a dessert so delicious it would make you want to slap your momma, and I let’s not forget this to die for smile." She gave him a dazzling deep dimple smile as if to prove her point. "See."

Keigo felt a strange flip-flop sensation in his stomach and he didn’t think it was the ulcer. Yes, he could see every delicious detail of Etta. There was no denying she had a heart-melting smile. He would even agree she was sexy in her own way. Pleasant? That remained to be seen, and as for her cooking a dessert that would make him slap his mother? Not in this lifetime. The one thing she didn’t mention was her uncanny ability to drive a sane man crazy.

"Miss Jones," He rubbed his hand over his stomach. "As enlightening as this is--"

"No reason to go into one of your long speeches," she interrupted holding up her hands and dropping them to her sides. "I’m just joking, so get your judicial robes out of your crack," she winked.

"Get my…what?"

She rolled her eyes heavenward and shook her head at him. "Are you always so damned serious about everything?"

"I don’t believe I use to be until…" He halted his confession. Catching himself Keigo suggested, "Maybe we should get down to business. It’s been a long day."

"Yeah, we might as well get it over with," she mumbled dropping into the seat in front of the desk. "Okay, I'm sitting, so let's hear the verdict."

"Miss Jones, so as there are no more misunderstandings between us, let me say that I can assure you on my oath as an upholder of the law, I am not making you any indecent proposals--"

"Damn, that’s too bad." She met his grimness with a bemused smile on her lips.

Keigo decided to ignore the wittiness and continued, "What I am offering you is the opportunity to spend your thirty days doing community service. You are welcome to refuse of course."

"What happens if I refuse?"

"You will go back down to lockup to serve the duration of your time."

"Don’t sound like I have much of a choice but to take what’s behind door number one," Etta muttered, her chin set in a stubborn line. "So Scotty, tell me, what have I won?"

"Who’s Scotty?" He asked. Etta gave him a scathing look. "Oh, I see. Another joke."

"If whatever you have in mind means I’m going to be spending more time in your company maybe I should go ahead and accept time in a jail cell. You’re lack of humor is killing me, Judge Handsome," she snorted on a laugh.

"I told Marco, this wouldn’t work," Keigo, grumbled reaching for his desk phone, he lifted it off the cradle. "Let’s say we forget the it and you go back to lockup."

"Hold up!" She leaned forward at the waist to place one of her hands on top of his.

Keigo found her touch soft and warm. He grew still. His breath felt as if it blocked the back of his throat, making his breathing labored. It had been a long time since he had felt the gentle soothing touch of a woman.

He released the phone and looked at her hand resting on top of his. There was a marked contrast between their skin tones, along with texture and size. Keigo found her hand beautiful. Her fingers were long with short clean clipped nails. Her hand appeared small, delicate, and yielding in comparison to his large one with its standing veins and blunt tips.

Keigo leaned forward drawn to her scent. Etta smelled of coconuts and coco butter. It reminded him of tanning oil and the tropics. He liked it. To be honest with himself, he liked her, from the brown sugar darkness of her skin to the sweet playful teasing and impetuous bluntness of her voice. Everything about her made him want to know more about whom she was, what was her desires? Being this close to her made him realized how lonely he'd become.

His jaw clenched, causing the muscle to quiver in his jaw. He didn't want to consider Etta as he would a potential lover. It only complicated matters. In this situation he needed to keep in mind that she was, Miss Jones, the barefoot loudmouth woman that interrupted his courtroom repeatedly. She was only here because she had to be, not because she wanted to be.

Keigo withdrew his hand and his eyes closed involuntarily as he remembered the last time he felt this way about someone. Look where that got him, a lifetime of sadness.

"Don’t call security," her voice was resigned. "I promise to listen to what you have to say and take it in serious consideration. I can see you genuinely are trying to work with me here."

When she withdrew her touch, Keigo missed it.

Etta nervously scratched at her head she dropped her eyes. Was that embarrassment he saw on her face?

"First let me tell you a little about my credentials. If possible I would like my community services to be something in my chosen field. I know how sometimes you choose cleaning the highways and stuff. I tell you this because, I want you to know that I’m not just some psychic who can cook."

"You can read minds too?" His tone was unapologetic.

"You want to hear this or not?" Etta smacked her lips together.

"You may proceed," he uttered with a smile.

"As I was saying." She clucked her tongue at him. "My ability to know what a person wants to eat before he or she does is a bonus, yet it doesn’t look practical on paper. In spite of what you may think of me, I do have an impressive resume, Judge Tall, Asian, and Cynical."

He captured her eyes with his in silent warning. His patients had become thin hours ago now she was testing his endurance.

"I have certifications from some of the top culinary school in and out of America," she boasted proudly. "I’ve spent two years as an apprentice for one of Paris’s best pastry chefs. You can add it to my psychic ability to make a meal a satisfying emotional experience for the consumer. When it comes to foods I’m very good at what I do."

Keigo couldn’t hide the skepticism on his face. She probably was use to people not believing in her psychic abilities. Her case today in court was the first time he’d ever heard of a Psychic Chef. He didn’t believe in all the others that claimed they had these abilities, so he wasn’t about to buy into one that spoke with food?

Wait, that was being a bit harsh, Etta never claimed she spoke to foods. She said she knew what people needed or wanted before they ordered. Keigo released and inward chuckle. He couldn’t believe people actually paid for her services. How crazy was that? What idiot went out to eat and not know what they had a taste for? How would they even know what restaurant to go to if they didn’t know what the wanted? Baka! Idiots.

"Do you have any other look besides that one?" Etta asked pulling him from his private thoughts.

"Excuse me? What look is that?"

"The one that’s says, "Lady, you’re full of shit"." She shook her had and clucked her tongue at him. "Yeah, that’s the one."

His mouth curved into smile.

"Yeah, that’s much better. You really should smile more," Etta crooned. "I see I’m not the only one with a great smile. You have one too when you choose to show it."

Keigo felt wrapped in invisible warmth every time she smiled at him. It could be come addictive, he decided. Her easy open manner was melting his resolve.

"I…I thought we were going to speak seriously," he stuttered, tugging at his starched collar.

"I am speaking serious," she teased. "You do have a beautiful smile."

"Miss Jones," Keigo warned. "I assume you were going in a particular direction other then my smile. Tell me, for instant, what do all this psychic stuff have to do with being a good chef?"

"I don’t know if I can explain it," she sighed loudly.

"Try," he urged.

She placed a finger under her chin, her forehead crinkled in deep thought. "The only way I know to help you understand is by asking you a question? Do you mind?"

"Go ahead."

"Let’s say you call your mother and tell her after not seeing her for awhile that you were coming to visit. On the first night home, what one dish will she make sure to cook for you?"

"That’s easy," Keigo beamed. "Fried chicken katsu curry."

"Would you had to tell her that, or did she just know that fixing this would make you very happy?"

An expression of comfortable memories softened his eyes. "My mother would just know. When I was sad she knew it, when I was sick she knew it. When I fell in love, she was the first to know it, before I did."

"Those are feelings we never forget, Keigo," Etta voiced softly. "Nor the foods that we eat during those emotional times."

He looked up and his heart lurched and his body vibrated as she said his name. At the base of her throat a pulse beat, and it matched his.

"I think I understand," he managed to say. His voice seemed very deep and emotional to his own ears.

She continued, "Usually, a mother has natural instincts to sense what her child want. It starts while in the wound. A mother suddenly has weird cravings, so instinctively she knows what would stop the cravings--"

"I disagree." Keigo interrupted. "Try, try and try again has been my experience," He shrugged his shoulders with a smug grin on his lips.

"Experience?" She paused. "I didn’t realize you had children. How many do you and your wife have?"

She was fishing and it was obvious but Keigo didn’t have the energy to go that deep into his personal life with this virtual stranger. Instead he said, "My going into intimate details of my private life has no relevance to our current conversation."

"You’re right," Etta mumbled. He watched the tip of her pink tongue as she licked her lips, her soft brown eyes flickering down at her hands in her lap. "I was just trying to the mental bond between mother and child as a means of proving that we all have psychic abilities. You just have to know how to build upon it."

"I’m sure if one was a believer it would help," he stated adding, "I think, when it comes to my mother knowing what to fix for me, it’s because I always asked for the same thing ever time I visited home from college. Trust me, there is nothing supernatural about it."

"You really are making this harder then it has to be," Etta rolled her eyes. She twisted her head from side to side before rolling her shoulders as if she was trying to ease the kinks out.

"Are you getting ready to put a hex on me?" Keigo teasingly asked.

"Oh please, now you’re getting ridiculous," she clucked her tongue at him. "I’m not a freakin’ witch! And you better be thankful because if I were, I’d turned you, the frog, into a prince!" she countered.

"Ouch!" He flinched. " Please, tell me how you really feel."

"Come on and get serious for a moment. I won’t you to tell me about this curry dish your mother makes for you."

"I have no idea what all my mother puts in it excepts for the basics, such as, potatoes, carrots, onion, fried chicken cutlet with a curry sauce on top of sticky rice. All I know is I can’t get enough of it." Keigo laughed softly.

"Personally, I'm more familiar with making Indian curry dishes, but I’ve heard of Japanese curry, but there are many versions."

"True, there are many ways of making the curry roux in my family, and if you agree to my offer, I will arrange a meeting between you and my mother so you can try it and I’m sure if you smile at her she will share the family recipe."

Etta’s eyes twinkled mischievously. "Is this your way of saying you would like to introduce me to your mother?"

"What?" He harrumphed. " I wasn’t saying that at all, I just thought...

"Thought what, that one I meet her, I would want to be a part of the family?" Her grin widened.

"Hey, why do you always have to put words into my mouth? I was just trying--"

"Oh, put a sock in it," Etta interrupted with a wave. "No reason to get fidgety. It’s not like I’m foolish enough to believe we would date, much less meet each other’s family. I can’t even imagine being introduced to your mother as your girlfriend."

"You can’t?" He scowled suddenly feeling agitated. He crossed his arms over his chest and asked, "Why not?"

Her eyes widened. "I…I don’t know. I just don’t think we fit that way."

"Really?" His black eyebrows lifted a fraction. It was her turn to fidget in her chair. "Why not? What’s wrong with me?"

"Nothing is wrong with you! Man, I'm not saying anything is wrong with you. It's just everything seems to be a business transaction with you, and I'm not down like that," Etta explained. "I'm more carefree, and when it comes to my personal life, I don't plan anything. Not anymore. I think if you plan for the future, you’re jinxing the outcome. If whatever happens, it happens, you know what I mean?"

"That’s absurd," Keigo scoffed. "Why leave things to chance when you can make preparations. Has it occurred to you that the jinx occurs because things weren’t planned appropriately? It’s hard to secure a future with such haphazard thinking."

"See, this is exactly what I’m talking about!" Etta let him have it back with both barrels of volume. "We can’t even agree to disagree! Which proves my point we wouldn’t fit."

"There is nothing wrong with a couple arguing at times and there is nothing wrong with and imperfect fit when it comes to relationships," he continued to argue.

"Please! Relationships are hard in general, so it stands to reason that a common ground would make things go more smoothly, like a well oiled machine," she countered with a slight smile of defiance.

They both froze in a stunned picture.

What was wrong with this picture? Keigo went over the argument in his mind. Satisfaction pursed his lips. He threw back his head and laughed.

She sat there, blank, amazed and tongue-tied.

"I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s come over me," he blew out a deep breath. It felt good to laugh like this again. "Do you realize what just happened?"

Etta voice rose in surprise. "God help me, I finally pushed you too far and you’ve completely flipped over the edge. I’m definitely going to be put under the jail for sure."

"No, maddening woman," Keigo commented. He wondered why she only understood what she wanted to understand? "You claim that we don’t fit, but we just change sides in mid argument."

"I don’t get it," she huffed. "What’ your point?"

"Etta, I became the idealist and you became the realist."

"No way," she waved her hand as if swatting at flies. "There isn’t an idealist bone in your fine body."

Keigo’s grin grew wider.

"Oh way," she released a girlish giggle reached out and hit his hand before placing her fingers over her mouth. Her expressive eyes grew wider and he realized she finally got what he was trying to say. "Oh, my God. You are so right. How did that happen?"

"I was a lawyer before I became a Judge," he stated as if it excused everything.

"What does that have to do with what we were discussing?"

"It’s a habit for me to argue the opposing views. To many years of going from debates to courtrooms, I suppose." He shook his head. "I don’t know what your excuse was."

"Me?" Etta winked at him. "I have no excuse I just like being right."

They laughed in unison, the earlier disagreeable tension evaporating out of the room and replaced with a more intimate tension that comes with the joy of being in the company of someone you find attractive.

"Keigo, " she said his name once again and he realized he had called her Etta earlier and wondered when that had happened.

When did she stop being Miss Jones, and simply became Etta to him? It probably was when she said she, "if she was a witch she would turn him from a frog into a prince." How endearing could one woman be? It was refreshing to meet someone so easy to say what’s she thinking. He didn’t feel the need to be anything other then himself with her. His old self, before his world turned upside down.

"Yes? Did you want to ask me something?" He decided to get another bottle of water. "Would you like something to drink?"

"You have alcohol in here?"

"No."

"Too bad," she muttered. "I’ll have what ever you’re having."

"Bottled water, it is."

She turned in her chair as he walked to the mini fridge. He could feel her eyes on his back.

"What I wanted to ask was. You said you were a lawyer, before you became a Judge. Was being a District Court Judge always something you wanted to become?"

"District Court Judge, no." Keigo offered her the bottle water and she accepted. Standing in front of her he half stood half sat on the edge of the desktop. He twisted off the cap and took a sip before continuing. "I had loftier dreams. I was going all the way to the Supreme Court. I was striving for my goal, doing everything necessary to continue an impressive resume. Until, a few years ago I was a member of the Superior Court and for personal reasons, I thought it was best to change over to District Court, and from there to being televised. Now, I’m just another one of the television Judges that they do comedy skits about on late night television." He held up his bottled water and cheered, "Kampai! Cheers!" He tapped his bottle against hers. "Look how far the mighty have fallen!"

Keigo tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice, but from the sympathetic look on Etta’s face, he wasn’t being successful."

"It sounds like you miss overseeing the more major crime cases. I suspect listening to petty squabble cases are boring in comparison," she said matter-of- factly.

"Yes, but it’s for the best," his voice broke with huskiness. He cleared his throat of the lump that had lodged there during his reflection of dreams lost. He had quite a few of them.

"Best for whom?" She asked softly. "I mean, when you chose your profession, I'm sure you chose Superior Court Judge because it the thought of it thrilled you. What changed?"

"I suppose…I changed," Keigo said blandly.

"How so?"

He shrugged his shoulders. Keigo didn’t know why he suddenly felt chatty with Etta, but it felt good to speak about his lost dreams to someone who didn’t have a vested interest in the outcome of his life. With that in mind, he forged ahead.

"When I started out, I really only had myself to consider. Of course my parent’s opinions were important to me and I was so fortunate that they weren’t so tied to the old Japanese ways that they didn’t leave room for me to have my own dreams. My father was an accountant and he was disappointed that I wasn’t going to follow in his footsteps."

"Did he get past it?"

"Yes," he nodded and took another drink from the water bottle. "He told me the only reason he didn’t object to my choice is because I chose a profession that could make positive changes in the world and he was proud to have a son that upheld the laws in a country he had come to call his home."

"You accomplishments are his accomplishments," Etta replied. Her voice was tender, almost a murmur. "I would be proud of you too. I’m certain he still is proud of you, regardless of the turn your path has taken."

He stared, complete surprise on his face. She understood. New and unexpected warmth surged through him.

"It wasn’t a decision I made likely but I had risk all for the dream. I was so selfish, that I never considered the potential dangers that came with these dreams, until it was too late…" his voice trailed off into silence. Guilt pressed hard in his chest.

"Late how?" Her lips puckered with annoyance. "You’re still a young man. It’s never too late to pursue a dream. In your case, it would be a continuation, you’re just taking a break because you’re still in the same field."

"Aren’t you the same woman that told me I didn’t have the stomach for this business?"

"Yeah, I was talking about he television business," she said. "It’s obvious, you don’t care that much for it, because you don’t know how to play your best side up to the cameras. A day like this would be a Reality TV whore’s dream. Instead of thinking how great your ratings would be you were thinking what a pain in the ass I was being."

Keigo shook himself. "Speaking of, that brings us full circle to why you’re here in my chambers."

Etta moaned and took a drink of water. She pulled the bottle away from her lips. "You would think by now I would learn to leave well enough alone."

"No, don’t think of it that way," Keigo declared. "I’m hoping now that we’ve had the chance to get to know each other a little better you will consider my offer."

"You never told me what the offer was," she reminded.

"I’ve been trying for the past hour."

"I suppose we should get on with it." Etta moaned placing a hand over her stomach. "Hey, are you hungry? I’m so hungry I can feel this cold water making its way down. How about I cook for you tonight and you can tell me what you have in mind."

"How about we discuss this, come to some sort of agreement and if you’re still speaking to me or not locked up down stares we can discuss dinner."

"Always the party pooper," she pouted. "If it will speed up this process, then, Okay I agree to whatever."

"How can you agree to something you haven’t heard yet?" He stared.

"Easy." Joy bubbled in her laugh and brightened up her eyes. "Over here I have the alternative and over here I have thirty days in jail. Well, I thought I made it clear from the beginning I have no intentions of going to jail, so yes to the alternative."

Keigo suppressed a grin watching her kick off her shoes. She drew her knees up towards her breast the voluminous skirt completely covered her bare feet. Folded in the chair she nursed the nearly empty bottle in one hand swinging it back and forth.

"The alternative is a month at Bent Arrow Camp. You will be in charge of handling the kitchen. We get three squares a day with desserts, anything else you decide to kick in will be up to you throughout the day."

"Won’t your regular chef mind?"

"Not this year," Keigo stated. "His wife is overdue and they plan on inducing labor the week he was set to come up."

"I get to do all the shopping and I don’t do can goods."

"To late for you to create a garden and I the nearest market is about an hours drive," Keigo supplied. "Can good’s will keep better, fresh goods spoil and that’s wasted food."

"Not in my kitchen," she pursed her full lips in deep thought. "Since we have to get what we need before we leave anyway, then let me do the shopping. I have connections to organic vegetables at a steal. We get what we need from here and I will can my own goods, the old fashion way with natural preservatives. Do you have a freezers?"

"Huge walk in sub-zero."

"Perfect. I can do some vegetable mixes and soup stocks that will keep in the freezer. I also have homemade preserves and apple butter in my pantry. We can get a leg of smoked ham and hang it, that way it will last all month and because it’s cured, it will keep well. Any vegetarians, allergies, special diets I need to know about?"

"Slow down," Keigo smiled. "I can see your wheels turning. I will make sure Nan get all that information ready for you and an open expense credit card so that you can get what you need. Once, you have it all together, just let us know we have refrigerator truck that will take everything up."

"Wow, I can’t wait." Etta’s face glowed with excitement. "It will be like the old days traveling with the carnival. Being in the outdoors. Definitely, have to throw barbecues. Oh…oh! Maybe every Saturday we can have a bonfire and do smores. It’s okay to build a fire isn’t it?"

"Private property and I have a bricked in place for the fire to help keep it contained." He frowned shoving his hands in his front pocket. "I don’t think you will be able to do it every Saturday. It’s rainy season, the showers can be quick, hard, and unexpected and in certain areas flooding and mud slides. We find it’s safer if we don’t allow anyone to go outside certain parameters if there is a weather report of potential flash showers."

"No worries, I will make sure I always have a backup plan."

Keigo enjoyed watching this side of her. For someone who went with the flow of things, when it came to her kitchen, she seemed to do a lot of planning. Seeing Etta like this was like meeting a new person. Even her expression changed taking on a serious engrossed appearance. He silently admitted he found her thought process extremely sexy.

"I’m glad you’re on board," he voiced. "I can’t think of anyone better suited."

"Aw, that’s so sweet," she crooned. "You need me, don’t you?"

"Huh?" He blinked once. Twice. He noted her smug smile and decided to knock her down a peg or two. How easy it was for her to forget why she was going. "I suppose I should have said, I couldn’t think of anyone better suited at such short notice, and free of charge," he revised his statement.

Etta moaned and said, "The frog is back. Ribbit…ribbit."

"Then why are you the one making the frog noises," he pointed out.

"Because it takes one to know one?" Etta said snidely ending the question by sticking her tongue out at him.

Keigo laughed.

"Tell me, Etta, with exception of your Internet cooking show, what are your future plans? Don’t you think you people would take you more serious if you didn’t tell them you fancy yourself as a psychic chef?"

"You don’t have to belief in me. Lord knows before Neil died, I was determined to never read another hunger pang and to become one of the "normal" people."

"Who’s Neil?" Was he the "almost marriage" she implied about earlier?

"Neil is a another story, for another time." Biting her lip she avoided his eyes. It wasn’t enough for him to miss the moisture that pooled in them before she looked away. "I know what I do is strange to some, but I grew up in a carnie, normal is strange to me. In my world with the people that I call family along with my mother, people with the second site is a reality. There is no way you can grow up around people with gifts of their own and remain a skeptic."

Keigo admired her easy optimism. He was an admitted reserved planner. If he worked in a bank and someone with her personality came to him wanting his bank to investment based on supernatural abilities, without having scientific documented facts to back it up he’d turn her down without further consideration. Dreamers were good in a romantic affair, but not business.

The one think he couldn’t deny is the kids at his camp would love her. The more he thought about his decision the more he was coming to like the idea of having Etta underfoot at Bent Arrow. It definitely wasn’t going to be boring.

He must be dizzy from lack of food too, because he couldn’t stop looking at her, especially when she wasn’t looking at him, like she was at the moment. Her lovely eyes trailed from his face to his chest to hiss crotch? He must be mistaken. Surely she hadn’t just sized him up! He would be offended if he hadn’t already done the same to her several times.

Men sized up breast. Women secretly sized up crotch bulges thinking men weren’t aware that they were being checked out. When in actuality men always did crotch checks on themselves to assure zippers were up and penis nestled in the most flattering position.

He cleared his throat bring her attention back to his face. "So my plans for you to be the chef at Bent Arrow isn’t a problem for you."

"Does the camp have Internet access?"

"It’s a training camp for inner city kids who want to go into the field of law. Fast access is a necessity along with other necessities," Keigo assured her.

"I’m hoping for the most important necessity such as indoor plumbing. I’ve seen enough bushes and port-o-potties to last me a lifetime."

"Etta, it’s not a boot camp," he shook his head at her musings. "We try to give kids options before they decide to make the wrong choices, not after."

"Sounds, like something that I would feel honor to be a part of. So when do we leave?"

Keigo stared. She had loveliest reddish-brown eyes, he’d ever seen. They reminded him of a puppy he had once, trusting, affectionate, and needy for love and attention in return. He crossed his arms over his chest and moved to take a seat behind his desk. Putting some distance between him and those eyes.

"How about we get together and discuss everything another day. I will call you and set up a time that is good for you."

"I…I thought you were going to come for dinner."

Was that disappointment he saw on her face? "I’m afraid I’m not up to eating anything else today." He massaged his tender stomach.

"Should have left off the hotdog with double chili," she mumbled.

"How--" His words dwindled to silence at her knowing grin. An immediate chill went down his spine. For a brief moment he wondered if there were something to this psychic stuff after all and spied the small spot of dripped chili on the white shirt he wore. Keigo’s judge’s robe was no longer hiding his guilty pleasure. He still remained unconvinced.

"Well, I suppose that’s it then. We’ve reached an agreement," Etta unfolded her legs from the chair and slid her feet back into her sandals.

"I’m glad you accepted my offer, Etta. Thank you."

"No, thanks for coming up with something where I will feel as if I’m being useful." She came to her feet and stretched reaching far over her head.

Keigo’s eyes fell to her breast once again, the dark nipples brushed against the white material. His body tightened. He knew what he would be doing in the shower tonight besides, scrubbing his body.

"Will you be going home and cooking you something to eat?" He asked.

"I think I will warm up some leftover lasagna since I will be eating alone and listen to some of my favorite albums nursing a glass of red wine in the bath."

Pushing aside the visualization of picturing Etta naked in a tub he asked, "Are we talking real albums or CDs’?"

"Records, of course, Man, it’s the only way to go," she smiled. "There’s nothing like the pop and crackle of vinyl."

"Something we can agree upon" Keigo returned her smile. "I love holding the album jacket in my hands and looking at great cover shots of Charlie Parker or Billie Holiday, along with a blurb about the artist personality or career. There is something so delicate about handling an album, don’t you think?"

Etta nodded her head. "You place it on the turntable and ease the needle just a breath above the album and let it drop. There is this silent pause before that first crackle, then the music begin to play and I swear, there’s nothing like it." She paused and asked, "By the way, what do you know about blues and jazz on vinyl? Or are those backup names you throw out just to impress?"

"It’s you that are the perpetrator of jazz and blues, if anyone in this room is being accused of such a crime," Keigo replied with feigned haughtiness. "Is there anything else that sounds better on vinyl?" Their gazes locked and he tried to swallow. So much for judging without prejudice, he thought wryly, Etta was too interesting for him not to be interested.

"I’m impressed, I don’t mean to sound racist but I don’t know too many Japanese men that appreciate good jazz."

"Really? So how many Japanese men do you know?"

"Counting you? Three, but only one of them is a good friend and he’s purely techno."

"I see," Keigo rubbed his chin. "I would say out of large population of Japanese men, three is adequate enough to base your conclusions."

The laughter he received from Etta warmed his insides and he admittedly enjoyed the feeling. It had been so long, he thought he lost the ability to feel such warmness once more.

"Okay, that was a stupid thing to say," she admitted.

"If you want to make it up to me, how about I bring a few of my favorites and you bring a few of your favorites to Bent Arrow and we can compare notes?" He found himself suggesting. Keigo would wonder later what had got into him. He wasn’t usually this forward.

"Sounds good to me." Etta beamed at him. "My name sake is definitely at the top of the list."

"Let me guess," he pretended to think long and hard before blurting out, "Etta James."

"Indeed."

"She’s one of my favorites also," he admitted. "I love to hear her sing my favorite song--"

"Let me guess." Etta interrupted. "Everyone’s favorite, including the "jazz clueless". At Last."

He was shaking his head before she finished speaking. "Wrong." He said lifting an "I told you so" eyebrow at her for once again making assumptions about him. "For me, it’s My Dearest Darling."

"Damn," she slapped her hand against her thigh with excitement. "You’re impressing the hell out of me. If you don’t stop, I’ll swear you’re trying to steal my heart. You do know your stuff."

"Yes, I do," he admitted proudly. "Not only do I know what I like, I have the only known copy of a studio demo with Chet Baker and piano player, Russ Freeman, during a jam session in 1954 messing around in between sessions."

"Get Out!" Etta shrieked. "That is to wild. You have to bring it."

"No way," he shook his head. "I’m not going to risk it getting broken in the transport. You will have to come to my place some day and hear it."

A hush seemed to charge into the room like a pink elephant with a hangover. His invite was hanging out-there, yet neither was sure how to proceed. Keigo realized he had made an open door invitation. He really was tired. He was giving her the impression that they would still be communicating after the thirty days ended. Etta, graceful way of not making a big deal of his offer put him at ease.

"That is wild." She nodded her head at him. "Chet Baker was one bad ass trumpet player. He made strides in a genre few Caucasian men have succeeded in. It’s sad that he had to become another one of those musician drug cliché that we hear about too often. It’s truly a shame how many of the late great talented jazz artist took the hard path in their personal lives."

"True," he agreed.

Etta’s stomach growled and he laughed.

"Enough for today. Do you have a way home?" He asked.

"You offering?"

"I could have my driver drop you off," he suggested.

"Driver?" She snorted. "My, aren’t we special."

"It’s not like that," he said defensively.

"Hey, I’m not judging you, Judge," she teased. "I have my car in the parking garage. Thank you for offering. You have my numbers in your case file, or just key in and search my name with "psychic chef" if you want to drop me an email. Meanwhile, I will be utilizing my readings on you and making out a menu that will help your ulcer.

Keigo returned her smile. The aching in his stomach already seemed to be easing.