Jazzmyn’s heart broke as she listened to his words. Never before had she realized the depth of what this curse had done to him. It was more than the physical changes that had made him suffer; it was the emotional upheaval that had tortured him through the years. For the first time she felt his pain, sensed the absolute despair he must have carried with him from that first day he had been transformed.
She walked to the breakfast table and took the seat across from him. “I promise to do whatever I can to help you, Julian.”
An invisible weight appeared to lift from his wide shoulders as the edges of his mouth curled into a heartfelt smile. “Thank you, Jazzmyn.”
She put her coffee down on the table and sat back in her chair. “What is going to happen at this voodoo ceremony you spoke of?”
Julian reached for his fork and stabbed at the stack of pancakes. “We must stand together before Odette’s tomb and pledge our love to each other. Once we are married by a voodoo priestess, I should be as I was.” He placed a pile of pancakes on his plate.
Jazzmyn picked up her fork. “Do you know a voodoo priestess who will marry us?”
He nodded. “I’ve got a few names; people who have come highly recommended.” He picked up his knife and started slicing into his pancakes.
Jazzmyn retrieved two of the pancakes from the stack in the middle of the table. “What will be the first thing you do when you become mortal?” she asked, placing the pancakes on her plate and reaching for the bottle of syrup next to her.
“What do you mean?” Julian forked a wedge of pancakes into his mouth.
She drizzled the syrup over her pancakes. “Well, after people do something big, like win the Super Bowl, they go to Disney World to celebrate. What do you want to do to celebrate being human?”
Julian looked down at his plain pancakes and sighed. “Eat a steak. I still dream of steak,” he replied with a touch of longing in his voice.
“All right.” Jazzmyn picked up her knife. “After you become mortal, we’ll go to the restaurant and I’ll have Carl cook you the best steak in town.”
Julian chewed on his pancakes. ”Do you have any preference for an engagement ring? I thought I would go out today and get you one to make it official.”
Jazzmyn frowned at him. “Is it official when a voodoo priestess marries you?”
He shook his head, but never looked up from his pancakes. “Official enough for our purposes, but not legal. We can have a big ceremony when we make it legal, if you wish. Anything you want.”
Jazzmyn was taken off guard by his statement. “You really want to marry me? Not just because of some curse requirement?”
Julian glanced up at her. “I really want to marry you. I’ve been around a long time, Jazzmyn; long enough to know you are the woman for me. I want to marry you not because of some curse or your family history, but because you are you.” He eagerly sliced into his stack of pancakes.
As Jazzmyn watched Julian eat his breakfast, her nagging sense of reason returned. She was more than willing to help the man with his dilemma, but marriage? Marriage was difficult enough without throwing voodoo, murder, and curses into the mix. Jazzmyn knew she would do whatever was needed to put an end to the killings; but was she willing to marry someone with such a disturbing past? After everything he had done and all that he had been through, how would he adjust to turning back into an ordinary man? She could not help but wonder if the man Julian Devereau was about to become would be the kind of individual she was willing to spend a lifetime loving.
***
Julian dropped her off at the restaurant an hour later, kissing her good-bye and vowing to go in search of the perfect engagement ring. When Jazzmyn walked through the rear entrance of her business, a surreal feeling descended over her. Her world had changed overnight. All the impossibilities of life had become probabilities when a mythological creature could walk around her house and make pancakes in her kitchen.
“Goodness, child,” Ms. Helen cried out as she came around from the kitchen and spotted Jazzmyn in the hallway. “What have you been up to? You look like hell.”
Jazzmyn shook off her comment. “Just a long night.”
“Somethin’s different ‘bout you.” Ms. Helen inspected Jazzmyn from head to toe. “Your aura’s changed. You got his black on you now.” She paused and scrutinized Jazzmyn’s eyes. “You gave yourself to him, didn’t you? You’ve danced with that demon.”
“Really, Ms. Helen. I’m a grown woman and who I ‘dance’ with is my business.”
“You need to think ‘bout what you’re doin’. You can’t give yourself to him without payin’ a price.”
Jazzmyn felt her apprehension return. She could never tell anyone about Julian, not even Ms. Helen.
“He’s a wonderful man who cares for me, and I…I care deeply for him,” Jazzmyn proclaimed.
“You’re fibbin’, Jazzmyn. I could always tell. You’re in love with that crazy chef of yours, and not with the demon.”
“Ms. Helen, I’m not in love with Kyle, and would you please stop calling Julian a demon?” Jazzmyn turned from her and rummaged through her purse for the keys to her office.
“They’re in your front pocket,” Ms. Helen stated. “You put them in your pocket before you left the house.”
“How could you know that?” Jazzmyn felt the bulge of the keys in the right front pocket of her black pants. She pulled the keys out and raised her eyes to Ms. Helen.
“That’s how I know you’re lyin’, and that’s how I know you slept with him. I can see it. Just like I can see that he’ll put you in danger.”
Jazzmyn spied the keys in her hands. Attached to the key chain was a silver charm shaped like a musical note with the words “The Sweet Note” carved into it. She thought back to the day Kyle had given her the token to thank her for having faith in him as a chef. Wanting to blot out the memory, she closed her fist over the keepsake.
“Do you and Carl have lunch figured out?” Jazzmyn asked, turning to her office door.
“We got it figured out, but you’re gonna bring Kyle back, aren’t you?”
Jazzmyn put her key in the lock. “No, Ms. Helen. Kyle took a swing at a customer, and I can’t allow that kind of behavior in my establishment.”
“He took a swing at a demon. He wasn’t no customer,” Ms. Helen argued behind her.
Jazzmyn opened her office door and faced Ms. Helen. “He was a customer, a paying customer. It doesn’t matter if it was Julian or not. I can’t afford to have my chef attacking my customers. He’s a liability.”
“He’s your friend, and he needs your help,” Ms. Helen asserted.
Jazzmyn leaned against the doorframe to her office. “I can’t help him. I can’t hold his hand anymore and pretend to turn a blind eye to his drinking.”
Ms. Helen uttered a heaving sigh. “Well, if you don’t bring him back, then you best start lookin’ for his replacement.”
“Carl is his replacement for the time being.”
“Carl is all talk and no spice, Jazzmyn. You’ll see. Kyle could cook circles ‘round that boy.” Ms. Helen turned away, shaking her head. “I hope you got a backup plan,” she expressed over her shoulder.
Jazzmyn watched the older woman slowly shuffle away, then went into her office and closed the door. When she sat down at her desk, Jazzmyn rested her head in her hands.
“If I have to go back and kiss that man’s sorry ass, I will never hear the end of it,” she whispered.
The sound of pots falling to the floor in the kitchen jolted Jazzmyn out of her chair. When she ran into the kitchen to see what was going on, she found Carl crawling around on the floor picking up pots that had fallen from the rack above the stove.
“See what I mean?” Ms. Helen said, coming alongside her.
Jazzmyn nodded to Carl. “All you have to do is make sure he fills the orders and keeps the kitchen running smoothly.”
“I ain’t his momma, Jazzmyn. That boy needs to go back to cookin’ school for a few
more years before he’s ready for this.” Ms. Helen kept her eyes on Carl as he struggled to replace the pots on the shelf. “This is gonna be a long day,” she murmured.
“Just get lunch started,” Jazzmyn snapped and headed back down the hall to her office.
***
That evening all the dining room tables were full and the kitchen was packed with every free hand in the place. Jazzmyn was working behind the prep table helping Carl get the dishes out, while Leon was cooking most of the orders that Carl could not keep up with. Even Scott was running in and out from the dining room with tickets from the overwhelmed wait staff.
“Julian’s here,” Scott informed Jazzmyn as she finished putting the final touches on a bowl of chicken andouille gumbo.
“I can’t come out right now.” She passed the bowl of gumbo off to him. “Take that out to table four, please.”
Scott picked up the gumbo and put it on a serving tray. He leaned in closer to the prep table and whispered, “We’re getting some grumblings about the food.”
Jazzmyn wiped her hands on her dirty white apron. “The same complaints as we got with lunch?”
Scott nodded. “Too much pepper, and the regulars are asking if Kyle is out tonight.”
Jazzmyn ran her hand over her sweaty brow, trying to think of something to say. “Tell them Kyle had to take off for a few days. Family emergency.” That should appease some of them.”
“After a few days, then what?” Scott pestered.
Jazzmyn frowned at him and pointed to the bowl of gumbo in his hands. “Just take that out to table five and let me worry about what to do.”
Scott knitted his brow. “I thought you said table four?”
“I meant table four. Just go, Scott.” Jazzmyn waved him away.
Scott headed out the kitchen door, carrying the bowl of gumbo on a tray.
Jazzmyn turned around to see Carl adding pepper to scallops he was searing in a frying pan. She took the pepper out of his hand, and pulled a large bottle marked “spice mix” from the rack next to the stove.
“Use the mix Kyle prepared for the food, not pepper,” she directed, handing the bottle to Carl.
Carl frowned at the bottle. “I think the pepper gives it a better flavor.”
“You’re killing the customers with it; now use the damn spice mix like I told you.”
“Jazzmyn?” a man’s deep voice called from behind her.
“What?” she shouted as she spun around.
When she saw Julian standing in front of the prep table before her, she gave him an apologetic smile.
His deep brown eyes flashed with concern as they took in her sweaty face.
“I’m sorry, Julian, but things are a little crazy tonight.”
“Can I lend a hand?”
Jazzmyn was about to tell him to go and open a nice bottle of wine when she was reminded of the meal he had prepared for the two of them. She stared at him for a moment as an idea percolated in her head.
“Do you think you could put some salads together for me?” she finally asked.
Julian gave her his wonderful smile. “Absolutely.”
She walked around the prep table and grabbed a clean apron hanging on the side of the kitchen door. After handing him the apron, she looked down at his black slacks and expensive, black leather loafers. “You’re gonna ruin your pants and shoes in the kitchen.”
He rolled up the sleeves on his gray shirt. “It’s for a worthy cause.”
She helped secure the apron around his waist. “Carl can’t keep up with the orders and we’re getting complaints about the food,” she whispered to him.
He nodded to the kitchen. “Just show me where everything is and give me a little time to get the layout, and I should be able to keep up.”
She shook her head, grinning at his confidence. “Julian, have you ever worked in a kitchen before?”
He gazed into her eyes. “I have superpowers, remember?”
She showed Julian to the salad station off to the side of the main prep area. Julian studied the containers of vegetables before him and turned to take in the main shelf where the ingredients needed during service were kept.
“Salad plates are to your right,” Jazzmyn explained as she showed him the layout of the table. “Dressings are at the top of the table and labeled by name, and the vegetable selection is in the center.” She pointed to a printed list above the station. “Each of the salads are listed in alphabetical order with the quantity of ingredients to be added printed beneath the salad name. Just look up the salad, pick up a salad bowl and throw whatever is called for into the bowl. Dressing is added last and each specialty salad has its own dressing; house salads, the customer chooses the dressing, so make sure to check each order. If you need chicken added for the Caesar salad or the meats for the chef’s special salad, just look below.” She opened the cabinet beneath the table and showed Julian the prepared plates of chicken, ham, cheddar cheese, and chopped boiled eggs waiting in a small refrigerator inside.
Jazzmyn watched as his dark eyes surveyed the table. “Any questions?”
“No, I’ve got it,” Julian declared.
“Yell if you get stuck.” Jazzmyn kissed his cheek. “Thank you for doing this. You’ll save my ass.”
“You and your ass can pay me back later tonight,” he added with a wink.
Jazzmyn left him at the salad station and returned to hover over Carl. When she stepped behind the main prep area, she saw Carl once again sprinkling pepper on some sea bass waiting to be plated.
She gritted her teeth and decided if she ever got her hands on Kyle again, she was going to kill him.
Chapter 17
The last of the customers had just walked out the door when Jazzmyn plopped her exhausted body down on a red leather stool by the bar. Julian was sitting next to her, drinking a glass of merlot.
“That was fun,” he said to her as he put his empty glass down on the bar. “I haven’t had that much fun in a kitchen in years.”
“You were pretty good at it,” Scott commented from behind the bar as he refilled Julian’s wine glass. “Every time I stepped back there you had the orders ready to go.” He put the bottle on the bar and frowned at Jazzmyn. “Which was a hell of a lot better than our new master chef did.”
“It was his first night, Scott,” Jazzmyn chided. “Give the kid a break.”
Scott selected a wine glass from the rack behind him and placed it before Jazzmyn. “Admit it, Jazz. Mr. Devereau put out better salads than any of the whiz kid’s plates.” He picked up the bottle of merlot and poured some into the glass for her.
Julian waved away Scott’s praise with his hand. “I just did salads, Scott. It’s hard to screw those up.” He lifted his glass of wine. “I thought I told you to call me Julian.”
Scott nodded and put the wine bottle back down on the bar. “Well, Julian, I disagree, but all I can say is thank heaven you came in and helped out.”
Julian let his eyes drift over to Jazzmyn. “I think it’s safe to say you will be seeing a lot of me in the future, since Jazzmyn has accepted my proposal of marriage.” He raised his glass to his lips.
Jazzmyn glared at Julian as he sipped from his wine.
Scott turned to Jazzmyn and mustered a strained smile. “That is some news. I guess congratulations are in order.”
Jazzmyn angrily clenched her fists. She had not intended to tell anyone at the restaurant about her and Julian right away. She wanted to give everyone time to adjust to him, and she wanted to give herself some time to get used to the idea of becoming his wife.
“We haven’t made any plans yet.” She fidgeted on her stool. “Julian just asked me, and there are a lot of things we have to decide on before we make a formal announcement.”
“Just make sure you don’t get bogged down in one of those monster weddings,” Scott suggested. “Our guest list was over two hundred by the time Lynda and me got married. If you want to keep your sanity, elope.” Scott reached into the front pocket
of his black trousers and pulled out his keys. “Speaking of which, if you don’t mind boss lady, I’m going to head on out so I can spend some time with my wife.”
“Go on home, Scott. We can deal with everything tomorrow,” she assured him.
“You know what you need to do, Jazz. Call him. Get him back in here before Carl puts us all on unemployment.” Scott held out his hand to Julian. “Julian, congratulations. See if you can talk some sense into her about bringing Kyle back.”
Julian put his glass down and shook Scott’s outstretched hand. “Thank you, Scott, but I make no promises.”
Jazzmyn waited until Scott had exited the dining room before she turned to Julian.
“Why did you tell him we’re getting married?’ she demanded, frowning.
He looked surprised by her reaction. “I thought you would want everyone to know. These people are like family to you. Don’t you want to share our impending marriage with them?”
“Yes, Julian, these people are like my family, and they know I don’t just jump into things like marriage. They will ask why I’m rushing into this.”
He picked up his glass from the bar. “If that is how you feel, then we will have a long engagement. After we get through the ceremony, and I’m back to my former self, we can get formally married whenever you like.”
The Satyr's Curse (The Satyr's Curse Series Book 1) Page 18