A Kiss To Build a Dream On (That Voodoo That You Do Book 3)

by Jolie St. Amant

  She pulled the drapes aside and opened the French doors to the balcony. The warm air was welcome on her now chilled skin.

  Stupid cow. Should you be eating that? You know you need to be watching your carbs. Those pants are kind of tight on you. Chandler’s voice rang through her mind, loud over the sounds of New Orleans at night, the music, the car horns, the people laughing.

  A knock sounded at her door. Somehow, she knew who it was. When she opened the door, she saw was right: it was Jared.

  “Can I come in?” he asked.

  She pulled the door open wide and gestured him into the room.

  He stood in the middle of the room, looking around at everything but her. She took another sip of wine while she waited.

  “Are you okay?” he finally asked.

  She laughed. “Okay? Okay? I was just humiliated in front of my new boss and co-workers, and you. I left him to come here to find my place and he’s already destroyed it!”

  He approached her then, reaching out to cup her cheek in his hand. “Baby, that’s where you’re wrong. The only person he really humiliated was himself. What I saw was people standing up for you, supporting you, and being friends. Including me. I may not be as imposing as Alcide or as outrageous as Ivy, but I’m here. For you.”

  Chloe felt the tears prick the back of her eyelids and she looked away.

  “Hey, none of that,” he said, his finger caressing her cheek.

  Chloe looked up and into his eyes, saw the desire there, the passion he was keeping in check.

  How easy it would be to lose herself in those arms, that touch, and she couldn’t help herself. She leaned in close to him and pressed her lips to his, wrapping her arms around him. His arms enveloped her and she sighed and deepened the kiss, and he immediately responded.

  She moaned as his hands roamed her back and through her hair. Her hands pressed against his chest, hating the barrier between them. Feeling bolder than she ever had in her life, she started to walk toward the bed, gently pushing him in that direction.

  He stopped, threading his hands into hers.

  “Not tonight,” he said.

  “What?”

  “Not like this. I want you. I have for so long that it’s crazy I’m even saying this, but not like this. You deserve more.”

  Chloe looked away, half-embarrassed, half-uncertain, “So, you’re rejecting me?”

  He smiled and reached out to pull her chin up with a finger. “It’s not a rejection. When we do this, not if,” he caressed her cheek again, then placed a soft kiss on her forehead, “it’s going to be about us. Not about anything, or anyone, else.”

  “I want to be mad at you so badly right now. I’ve never thrown myself at anyone before.”

  He winked at her. “Well, next time you throw yourself at me, you can be assured you’ll get a different response. And on that note, I think I’ll say good night.”

  He pulled her close and she relished the feel of him against her. He placed a soft kiss on her lips. “Good night, Chloe.”

  She rested her head on his chest for a moment. “Good night, Jared.”

  He inhaled a deep breath, exhaled, then turned and walked out.

  Alcide lit a cigarette and exhaled, watching the sun as it began its ascent into the sky. Watching the sunrise was a routine for him. A moment of peace and tranquility. Something he needed. Archer Grayson had returned again, and it was uncertain as to what his fate would be this time around. Josie’s heartbreak would be Alcide’s as well if Archer died again.

  He looked out at the city he’d called home for two centuries. How it had changed, he thought. He turned away from the wrought iron fence that lined one side of the rooftop pool area, remembering when this part of the hotel had been the place to be. He, Josey, and Ivy had often closed the bar downstairs and invited special guests to the rooftop, where a whole other party awaited.

  The roaring ’20s, when New Orleans, already known for its joie de vivre, had been thriving with excitement. Flappers sat at the bar and drank their bootlegged liquor or danced the Charleston around the pool.

  He pulled the locket out of his pocket and opened it, staring again at the face that looked so much like Chloe. Isabella Devereaux, Chloe’s great-great-great-grandmother, and former employee of the Chateau Rouge.

  Isabella had come to the Chateau Rouge in the early 1900s, during the first Great War. Her husband was killed in battle and Isabella had seen this as a time to escape her horrible in-laws. They had never found her in New Orleans, though they would have surely looked harder had they known she was with child when she fled.

  She chopped off her hair, wore pants for the first time ever, and embraced her freedom. Much as Chloe was doing now. After her husband had shown up the night before, Alcide could see why she had left, and he still longed to throttle the man. But Ivy would take care of that.

  He glanced down at the picture of Isabella again. She had left New Orleans and the Chateau Rouge when her daughter had gotten older, preferring to raise her in a smaller, less wordly town. She had taken a piece of his heart when she left, as he’d grown to think of Analise as the daughter he’d never had. If Alcide closed his eyes, he could still hear the sound of a child’s laughter on the fourth floor.

  When Chloe had applied for the position at the Chateau, it was like the wheel of fortune had turned again and was bringing its daughter, his daughter, home.

  Chloe rolled over in bed and glanced at the clock again. She had woken up every hour on the hour since she’d finally crawled under the covers after the disaster that was last night. She didn’t know which had been more humiliating—Chandler insulting her in front of everyone, or Jared’s sweet rejection. She would not be texting Jared or even trying to run into him. She wouldn’t even take her coffee out on the balcony to watch the sunrise, just in case he decided to do the same.

  Instead, she’d take her coffee up to the rooftop. If the rising sun was spectacular from her balcony, she could only imagine what it would be like from the roof. Deciding that was a grand idea, she kicked the blankets off to get some coffee going and get dressed.

  A half hour later, she was turning her key into the ornate gate that allowed entrance into the pool area. During their hotel tour, Alcide had said the place was off limits from dusk to dawn, but surely the sun had risen enough by now.

  The gate swung open and Chloe closed her eyes as the sweet scents of night-blooming flowers drifted on the early morning breeze. Mingling with the blooms was the sharp smell of cloves.

  Alcide. She hesitated before taking any further steps. What if it was too early? What if she wasn’t supposed to be up here?

  “Miss Chloe, I presume?” came his dark voice from across the rooftop.

  She considered turning and returning to her room, but instead answered, “It’s me.”

  “Come on, ma cher. I have told you before that I do not bite.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, come enjoy your coffee. It is getting cold, I am sure.”

  Chloe walked across the concrete to join Alcide by the railing. She looked out at the city, at the high-rise hotels sparkling orange and yellow with the sun’s reflection. It seemed like the very town was on fire.

  “It’s too gorgeous for words,” she whispered. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  Alcide smiled, then lit another cigarette. “Yes, I agree. It is part of my morning ritual.”

  “Is that why you said the pool is off limits from sunset to sunrise?”

  He nodded. “That and other reasons. But you may feel free to come here around this time in the morning to enjoy the view and your coffee. I find your company refreshing.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Ma cher, I would not say so if it were not true. Of that, you can be assured.”

  Relieved, Chloe turned to look around the rooftop, at the empty barstools and lounge chairs. There was room to entertain a crowd of people.

  “It seems a shame that not many people get to see
this area.”

  “It wasn’t always this way,” Alcide said.

  “No?”

  “At one time, there were grand parties here. Ladies dressed in the high fashion of the day, as well as the men. Guests would dance and party until the sun rose as it is now.”

  Chloe could almost see it. He described it so well, almost like he’d been there. She could imagine him dressed as a dapper gentleman, lighting cigarettes for the ladies, and sipping on expensive whiskey.

  “What happened? Why did everything stop?”

  “The owner’s lover was shot smuggling liquor. After that, the party ended here at the Chateau Rouge.”

  “That’s so sad,” Chloe said.

  “Indeed,” Alcide said. “But perhaps you are the one who can bring some joy back into this old hotel. Enough of this talk of the past. It’s Halloween, mon cher, what do you have planned?”

  Chloe blew out a breath. “I don’t know now. After everything that happened with Chandler, and with Jared…” Her voice trailed off, and Alcide raised an eyebrow.

  Chloe blushed and shook her head. “It’s nothing, really.”

  A cool breeze blew Chloe’s dark hair around her face. “This place and its random cool spots are so weird,” she said. She turned on her ghost app.

  Alcide smiled. “Are you expecting to see something?”

  “I hope!”

  “Careful, Chloe. Here at the Chateau Rouge, you may get exactly what you wished for.”

  Alcide looked down at his watch. “Now, if you will excuse me, I need to get started with my day. It’s been a pleasure. Feel free to enjoy the view as long as you like. I can have more coffee sent up to you. With some beignets?”

  “That would be incredible.” Breakfast, coffee, and hiding from Jared. It was a perfect plan for now. At least until she could get her thoughts together. “Are you sure it’s not a bother?”

  “It’s no bother for me. I simply have to make a call.”

  Chloe laughed. “Yeah, I guess you're right.”

  “Until next time, Ms. Chloe.” With that, he turned around and left, leaving Chloe alone.

  “Damnit,” Jared cursed, rolling over in the bed for what seemed like the thousandth time. He couldn’t get the image of Chloe reaching for him out of his mind. It was like his dream from high school, only twisted. She wanted him, and he turned her down. What kind of idiot was he?

  A cool breeze blew through the room and Jared relished the feel on his warm skin. He grabbed his phone from the nightstand. Five a.m. His normal running time. Should he throw on his shorts and shoes and jog out his frustrations or try to get some sleep?

  He thought of Chloe in the next room, only a wall separating them.

  He crawled out of bed and got dressed. He was going for a run.

  As his feet pounded the sidewalk that cradled the side of the river, his thoughts raced. Had Chandler always been that way with Chloe? Even in high school? They always appeared so happy. Even when he had occasionally seen them together on the society page in the newspaper, they were all smiles. Looks definitely could be deceiving. Had he known then what he knew now, would he have made that pass at her?

  It had taken every bit of willpower he’d had to turn her down. He wanted her, but not like that. Not while she was mad at Chandler. When he took Chloe to bed, he wanted nothing on her mind but him.

  Restless, Chloe moved about the room, needlessly tidying the bed that had already been made by housekeeping earlier, despite her protests that she could do it. Now she was bored and hungry. Jared had sent her a text earlier, to which she hadn’t responded. Not knowing what to say only added fuel to her anxiety.

  She was in New Orleans, in the town of her dreams, and she was pacing her hotel room. On Halloween of all days! She shook her head and pulled on her shoes. She was going out.

  She wandered aimlessly around the French Quarter, taking in all the sights. It was reasonably quiet. Maybe everyone was busy getting ready for Halloween. The calliope sounded from the steamboat, and Chloe thought of Jared.

  She sighed. She was going to have to text him back. But what should she say?

  As if drawn to the sound of the steamboat’s whistle, she ended up at Jax Brewery, right on the Mississippi River. She found a small eatery with an outdoor sitting area in a delightful courtyard with a small fountain and surrounded lush green plants.

  She placed an order for a Bloody Mary and surveyed the menu. Everything sounded so exotic here. There was jambalaya, crawfish étouffée, crabmeat stuffed redfish, and oysters all kinds of ways. So different from the ribeyes and baked potatoes that were frequently on the menus in her hometown. Occasionally, there was shrimp, but it was often frozen and not fresh, and she’d never cared for it. She wanted to try it all, and, luckily, now she had the time.

  While she waited, she turned on her ghost app and let it sit, watching to see if it picked up anything. Except for that one time when it had flashed the words about past lovers and heartbreak, she hadn’t gotten anything she could make any sense out of.

  The bartender placed the Bloody Mary in front of her. It was almost a meal in itself, filled as it was with celery, green beans, and other vegetables. She took a sip and resisted the urge to squint. She was going to have to get used to the degree of spice used in this town.

  Her phone vibrated and she looked down. “Enchant.”

  Enchant? Enchanted? Enchantée? Wasn’t that the place Alcide told her to go to? The place for a good tarot card reading?

  The waiter set her food down in front of her, and Chloe picked at it, eating a plump piece of shrimp here, a crusty chunk of bread there. Her thoughts focused on Jared. Maybe a card reading was just what she needed to get her mind off things.

  She paid for her meal and looked up the store on her maps app. Soon, she was standing in front of the store. The name Enchantée scrolled in white on the door. She pushed the door open, and a bell chimed, announcing her entry.

  This store was different than the other ones she had passed walking down Royal Street. It wasn’t full of furnishings and decorations. The display area in front showed off jewelry, antique cameras, photos, and other items most people would consider personal. An ancient looking woman entered through a doorway behind the counter.

  “Welcome to Enchantée. Is there somethin’ I can help you with, ma cher’?” the woman asked, a slight French accent peppering her voice.

  “Do you read cards?”

  “That I do. Come closer.”

  Chloe obeyed, walking up to the woman.

  “I’m Madam Vivian,” the woman said. Chloe was struck by the intensity of her vibrant blue eyes. “And your name is?”

  “Chloe Deveraux.”

  Madam Vivian peered at her. “You look familiar.”

  “I don’t know how. This is my first time in New Orleans.”

  “Devereaux? Is that your family name?”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “Come see, cher.” Madam Vivian gestured to the doorway.

  Chloe chewed on her bottom lip, wondering if she should follow or leave. But, Alcide had recommended Madam Vivian, so she should be safe.

  “I don’t bite, cher. You are safe with me. I daresay if something were to happen to you, I’d have Alcide Santiago to answer to.”

  Chloe thought of Alcide and how he had come into the bar when Chandler had grabbed her.

  “How do you know that I know Alcide?”

  “That key. It’s a Chateau Rouge key, and it’s only for select people. If you’ve been around this town long enough, you know what that key is. But come, there is something I wish to show you.”

  Chloe followed the woman into a back room. Her eyes widened when she saw the shelves of candles, dolls, and glass bottles filled with who knew what.

  “Have a seat.” Vivian motioned to a small table. Chloe slowly slid into the seat, while Vivian searched through an old chest.

  “Here it is,” she said, blowing dust off an old framed portrait. She held it out to Chloe.
>
  It was a woman in a short black dress with black bobbed hair. She was smiling at the camera, her head cocked to one side.

  “This is Isabella Devereaux. She worked at the Chateau Rouge. My grandmother did as well, and she would tell me the stories that went with these pictures as I was growing up.”

  “Alcide said they used to have grand parties.”

  “They did. Isabella ended up moving away, and took her daughter, Analise, with her.”

  “Analise? That was my great-grandmother’s name! Wait, is this her?”

  “Yes, cher, I believe it is.”

  “What else do you know?”

  “I know many things,” the old woman said, smiling, “but, perhaps we should save that for another day. You are always welcome to come back and visit. I can tell you the old stories. I think you have other more pressing matters on your mind today.”

  Chloe’s thoughts returned to Jared. She still had not replied to his text message.

  Madam Vivian grabbed a worn set of cards. She shuffled them a few times then handed them to Chloe.

  “Shuffle these until you feel you’re finished.”

  Chloe did as she instructed, then handed the cards back to Madam Vivian, who fanned them out in front of Chloe.

  “Now, choose six cards.”

  After she picked the cards, she gave those to Vivian.

  Chloe’s eyes widened as the first card was turned over. It was a skeleton, and the word “Death” was prominent in white letters against a black background.

  “No, child, it doesn’t mean what you think it means,” Madam Vivian said. “It means something in your life has ended. I think it is a relationship. It also means it is time for a new beginning. A transformation.”

  She flipped over another card. “What you want most. This card is the hanged man. What you want most right now is to have it all. You want freedom, and you are afraid you will have to give it up. You don’t have to make that type of choice. Everything will eventually work itself out. The next card is your fears. You’ve been emotionally blackmailed into not leaving a situation. Sometimes we have to leave or let go to attract new and positive possibilities into our lives.”