Your Wish Is My Command (10 page)

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Authors: Donna Kauffman

BOOK: Your Wish Is My Command
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“Beaux? Plural? She's only seeing Bennett, as far as I know.”

“Let's not forget Monsieur Baxter. Never underestimate the allure of the animal kingdom.”

“She does seem happier than I've seen her in years.” Jack sobered a bit. “So many of my friends have gone through the agony of watching their loved ones pass on…. It's brutal. Extending an invitation
of the heart after something like that is very difficult. Some never get over it.” He sighed. “I suppose once you've found your soulmate, there is no sense in looking again.”

“You mentioned last time we spoke that Marta and her late husband were such a pair.”

“Oh, definitely. Such a tragedy.”

“Oui
. But I do not believe that she is destined to be alone. Or that anyone who has known great love and lost it should be relegated to a life of pain and loneli-ness.

Jack tilted his head in consideration. “Go on.”

“A soul who has known such sadness is irrevocably altered. That altered soul is destined to have another soulmate, one who would have, at any other time, not been the perfect match. Do you understand my meaning?”

Jack nodded thoughtfully, then toasted him with his glass of wine. “You, my new friend, are quite the philosopher of life and love.”

Sebastien smiled and shook his head. “I am merely one who pays close attention to the travails of the human heart and spirit.” He sipped his wine. “I believe Monsieur Graham might be just that new soul for your friend.”

“I think you may be right.” Jack lifted his glass again. “To old souls finding new mates.”

Sebastien grinned and tapped his glass. “I will have to remember that one.
Santé
.”

They were lingering over coffee when Sebastien finally worked his way to the matter at hand. “I understand from Jamie that each of them has somehow suffered at the hands of love.” He shook his head. “A shame, really. They are such young, vital women.”

Jack waved a hand. “Don't I know. I've tried to fix them up, but, hey, even
I'm
not a miracle worker.”

“I find them each intriguing. Certainly I am not the first to be drawn by their unique charms.”


Their
charms aren't usually the problem, if you know what I mean.”

Sebastien smiled and nodded. “I also marvel that they are so different and yet such close friends.”

Jack sat back and crossed his legs. “They've been friends since college. Each of them was an outcast, in her own way. I think that's what drew them to one another. That and their love of reading. They met when Jamie started a book club on campus.”

“And now they run a store together. Destiny, perhaps?”

“It's actually more surprising that they managed to hold on to their friendship this long, all things con-sidered.”

“Things?”

“Well, you know Marta's story. Thank God, Ree and Jamie finally talked her into joining the store venture. Ree even found her a place over on Esplanade and got a few people in the Quarter who needed a part-time bookkeeper to sign her on.”

“A good friend, Mademoiselle Broussard.”

“Amazing is what she is. And what a life she's led.”

“I can imagine her leading a life as vibrantly rich as the color of her incredibly bountiful hair.”

Jack eyed him with a knowing smile. “Ah, so you're just feeding my addiction to fine cuisine as a means to get closer to Miss Ree.” He reached over and patted Sebastien's hand. “Well, you wouldn't be the first to try, old chap.”

Sebastien decided it was best to let Jack think what he would. If Ree Ann hadn't been selected as one of his soul-matching missions, he might have very well pursued her. She was absolutely his type. Lush, sensual, and provocatively intelligent. He would merely
concede defeat after matching her, and Jack would be none the wiser.

Her coworker, on the other hand, would take a bit more creativity on his part. She was not at all what normally drew him. Strong and sleek with no curves for a man to sink into, not to mention her quick wit and defensive air. All of which did little to explain why she was constantly on his mind. Naturally she would be, given that she was his mistress, but still … Maybe it was that glimmer of vulnerability he'd seen just after he kissed her that first night. And again in the bookstore the other day, after Graham had made his first appearance.

He forced his attention back to the conversation. “You were saying, about Ree's background?” Sebastien grinned, making sure it was just a bit wolfish. “You have me very intrigued.”

Jack settled into his chair, and into his story. “Not many know this, and I suppose she'd be unhappy with me for sharing it with you. I have no idea why I am, actually.”

Sebastien kept his gaze—and his smile—squarely on Jack. Perhaps his charms with women would stand him in good stead here as well. No harm in trying, anyway.

Jack's cheeks warmed a bit, then he went on. “Her mother was an … exotic dancer. On Bourbon, back in its heyday in the fifties. La Bamba was her stage name.”

It took all of Sebastien's acting abilities to maintain an innocently interested demeanor. La Bamba? Mademoiselle Broussard's
maman?
He fondly remembered his nights spent carousing Bourbon Street with Edgar those many years ago. Some of their best nights had been spent observing and enjoying La Bamba's considerable … talents. He silently thanked God he'd never pursued the woman, though he'd
certainly considered it. Edgar had also done his level best to catch the dancer's eye. However, once Se-bastien had paraded the virginal Lucy in front of Edgar's once-roving eye, La Bamba had ceased to exist for him.

Another thought struck him. Despite the advanced difference in their ages, Ree Ann and Edgar had become an item of sorts, or so it appeared. Could Edgar have known? Had he purposely sought her out? Or was it coincidence?

“In the fifties?” Sebastien noted. “And yet, Mademoiselle Broussard is so young.”

“Her mama made not only a name but a modest fortune back in those days. It was rumored that a friend of hers—a … client, perhaps—invested her income wisely, and she retired when she was in her thirties. She became quite a character—something the Quarter has a particular fondness for—and was well known for her Friday night salons.”

“Salon?”

“Literary salons. Believe it or not. Somewhat more bawdy than highbrow, but all of society drooled over being on the invite list.”

“So this is where Ree got her love of the written word?”

“Absolutely. Her mother had been hostessing most of New Orleans society for almost a decade when Miss Ree made her grand appearance. La Bamba was well into her forties by then. No one ever knew—including Ree, as far as I know—who her father was. Her mother had quite a reputation from the sixties through the early eighties for taking young lovers then casting them aside when she grew tired or bored.” Jack lowered his voice. “And she had a very short attention span.”

Sebastien nodded and considered everything he'd learned. It went a long way toward explaining Ree's
personality. Flamboyant and willfully sexual, yet he'd bet a good portion of his gold cache that in reality she'd never let a man close enough to discover the real woman.

“So her daughter will never know true love for all her prejudices.”

Jack laughed. “Exactly what I've told her for years. But I always thought that when the right man came along, she'd fall and fall hard.” He looked at Sebastien speculatively.

Sebastien ignored the knowing assessment. “So, tell me about Edgar Santini. There was an interesting pair.”

“You know about Edgar?” Wariness edged back into Jack's voice.

Not certain what Ree might have said after their first little stroll, Sebastien had to play it aboveboard. “Actually, I knew Edgar quite some time ago, but we … lost contact. Ree mistakenly assumed I knew the younger Santini—a son or grandson, I presume— and spoke of Edgar as well.”

Jack snorted in disgust. “Angelo. Or Angel, as he's called. Though he's anything but. Grandson and major prick, if you'll pardon me for saying.”

Intrigued, Sebastien pressed for more. “She seemed to have quite a different opinion of him than she did of his grandfather.”

“Angel is miffed that Granddaddy didn't leave him every last penny. He was none too happy to discover Edgar had left some prime real estate to our Miss Ree.”

“I take it Edgar died a wealthy man?”

“It was a rocky ride over the years, but, yes, he was quite well off when he passed on. Just how young were you when you knew him?”

“Very,” Sebastien fibbed. He had no other choice. “He was in banking then.”

Jack was too entertained by his own storytelling to stop now. “Yes, well, he did very well, which was an obvious progression after he married Lucy, since her family were all bankers. But he ditched it all after she died, went rather bohemian, or so his family thought. He shocked everyone when he opened up a restaurant. Something that apparently had been a dream of his before he married Lucy.”

Sebastien had been aware of this but knew Edgar was too young and wild to make a serious go of such an enterprise. Lucy had been devoted to Edgar and was a stabilizing force in his life. And he had brought his touch of wildness into hers. One of Sebastien's finest matches.

“How did he do in business?”

“Not so well. He was a great lover of food and people, but despite the banking background, he was a lousy businessman. Too kindhearted, apparently. Forever giving jobs to unreliable help; anyone with a sob story could talk him out of almost anything.”

“He must not have been in the loan department before.”

Jack laughed. “No. In fact, I don't think he ever actually worked in the bank. More an instant board member or some such. Lucy had her father wrapped around her finger, you know.”

Sebastien did know. Another reason he'd introduced to her to the strong-willed young Edgar. He'd be a match for her father and for her own headstrong determination.

“Well, it took him years to go through all of his assets,” Jack went on, “but he was determined and refused to abandon a sinking ship. When he met Ree, she was barely out of graduate school and, thanks to a business degree and her mother, had a keen way with money.” He smiled. “I think Edgar was a safe place
for her. A powerful yet nonthreatening man, whom she could shower with affection while knowing withds out a doubt she would be admired for who she really was. And not what she appeared to be—a bombshell like her notorious mother. It was a love match of the purest form. One of respect and dual admiration. Totally nonsexual.”

“And her mother? What did she think of all this?”

“She passed away just after Ree turned nineteen. Ree was in college then, and her mother's long illness had used up most of their personal assets as well. But I think she would have approved of Edgar. Their relationship was totally misunderstood by almost everyone.”

“By everyone except you. And Marta and Jamie?”

“Exactly. And Ree refused to enlighten the narrow-minded idiots of the world. Like her mother, she let them believe what they would.”

“So you're saying that Ree turned Edgar's fortunes around? She could have known him for only a short time.”

“No one knew how badly off Edgar was. Certainly not his only son or his only grandchild. Which is partly why he was so deep in debt. Keeping up appearances at all costs.”

“He couldn't have been too concerned with that if he took up with someone as young as Ree.”

“His son died several years before he met Ree. Angel's mother had passed on when he was a boy. So Angel was all that was left by then. Besides, where Ree was concerned, Edgar never had a chance. She doted on him and gave him a new sense of purpose. She aggressively invested his money in high-risk funds and restored a good part of his fortune in a short period of time. In return, he fed her interest—pardon the pun—in the restaurant business.”

Sebastien lifted a surprised brow.

Jack shrugged. “The woman loves to cook, and let me tell you, she's an angel of God in the kitchen. But her mother refused to let her dwell on something so domestic, even as a business. She had far more lofty goals in mind for her only daughter. When Edgar died, Ree hit a point where she had to ask herself what she really wanted for herself and not for someone else.”

“And so the bookstore and café became a reality.” Sebastien finished the last of his coffee. “A happy ending.”

Jack smiled, but somewhat sadly. “She thinks so.”

“Tell me more about this Angel. She is very angry with him still. Surely he knows he cannot change his grandfather's will.”

“He knows, but it didn't stop him from trying. He tied Ree up in court for months, to the tune of thousands and thousands of dollars. He tried to prove she seduced Edgar into changing his will when he was no longer of sound mind or body.”

“The man must be blind, then.”

“I do like you, my friend.” Jack's smile faded. “Naturally Ree did nothing to disabuse the ass from his idiotic assumptions. He has no idea that if it weren't for Ree, he'd have ended up with nothing. Including his precious little four-star restaurant. She made sure she kept her inheritance without letting him find out that she was responsible for keeping his safe. The man could use a major reality check.” He waved his hand dramatically. “But logic flees when those two get anywhere near each other. It's like combustible fuel. I swear you can see the sparks fly.”

Sebastien sat forward. “Sparks?”

Jack misunderstood his sudden attention. He waved his hand. “Oh, please. You have nothing to worry about from that direction. Ree would rather have the man shot than let him within ten feet of her.
And I don't think after the court's last ruling that Angel will give her that opportunity. The two have retreated to opposing corners, and I doubt you could pay either one to have anything to do with the other.” He fanned his face. “Thank God.”

Sebastien smiled with satisfaction. And allowed Jack to believe what he would. In fact, he was so deep into his plans, he missed the waitress's pout when he left the restaurant without so much as a glance in her direction.

Chapter 8

T
his sheet isn't attached to the clew like that. We used a hook and thimble. And we used iron parrels on the halyard.”

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