Your Wish Is My Command (7 page)

Destiny. Jamie breathed a low sigh. She'd been putting off bringing up the subject of Sebastien all morning. But she had decided after his Napoleon speech that she had to tell Ree what was up. “Speaking of destiny, I need to talk to you about Sebastien.”

Ree's bright blue eyes twinkled. “Oh, goody. I knew you wouldn't be able to keep all the delicious details to yourself.”

“You're the one mooning all over him.”

“Sugar, he's moon material if God ever created it.” When Jamie rolled her eyes, Ree prodded. “Come on, come on. You have to kiss and tell. He's too good not to dish a little over.”

“How soon we forget our pledge. No happily ever afters for us. We've learned that the hard way, remember?”

Ree cast her an outraged look. “Oh, sugar, I may be perfectly happy to grow old and stay single with you two to keep me company, but none of us said a word about bein'celibate during that time. I mean, maybe when we're seventy—or eighty—we'll start taking in stray cats and be the crazy, bookselling cat ladies of
the Quarter.” She leaned forward. “But right now we're young and vital. We have needs. And if I know men, and you know I do, Sebastien looks like a man with a few needs of his own.”

Jamie smiled wryly at that. “The funny thing is, I thought he'd sought me out yesterday to ask for more details about
your
needs.”

“Me?” Ree seemed honestly surprised. “Honey, anyone with two eyes can see the man is clearly interested in you. You two have some sort of, I don't know, almost cosmic connection or something.”

Jamie froze for a second. “What makes you say that?” Had Sebastien told her about his … mission during their walk along the river? He couldn't have. No way Ree would have held that secret.

Ree scooted forward and leaned her elbows on the table, clearly in her element. “I don't know. He just looks at you with this air of … connection. I can't place it. I just see it. You can't tell me you don't feel it too. It's downright palpable.”

“A danger sign right there, don't you think? Given my track record?”

Ree simply shrugged. “Honey, you can't run away every time your hormones get in a twist. And I didn't say you were his soulmate or anything. I know you're over that.” She paused and stared at Jamie. “What? What did I say?” She reached over and covered Jamie's hand with her own. “Oh, sugar. It's not too late, is it? You didn't do something reckless. I mean, you just met the man, you certainly haven't fallen that quickly, much less agreed—”

“No, no, of course not!” Jamie said quickly. “I mean, yes, he's immensely attractive and very charming, but—”

“You can say that again. That accent, sugar. Whew. The way his T's sound like Z's. And those soft J's.” Ree fanned her neck

Jamie knew all about the effect of those soft J's. “Yes, well, under other circumstances I'd be interested in him. I mean, any woman with a pulse would be interested in him. But we're not involved. We can't be.”

“Because you thought he was interested in me? Well, rest your mind there. I know interest when I see it, and as much as I enjoyed his company on our little stroll the other day, he didn't come callin'for me.”

“You don't understand. His interest in me isn't romantic. Well, not him-and-me romantic. But meand- someone-else romantic. And I don't want someone else.” She pulled her braid over her shoulder and picked at the elastic binding the ends together. “Not that it matters. He has this rule about not bedding his mistresses.”

Ree gasped. “For heaven's sake. Mistress? He wants you to be his mistress?” Then she frowned. “But not in bed? What the hell kind of deal is that?”

Jamie shot her a warning look and dropped her braid. “Honestly, Ree.”

Ree's eyes rounded. “Wait a minute, you said he wants to watch you with someone else? My God, who'd have thought he was kinky?”

This was definitely not going the way she'd planned. Not that Jamie had a concrete plan to begin with. She'd hoped to somehow just warn Ree about Sebastien without revealing all the weird details. But now that she'd started, she realized just how badly she needed to confide in someone. And who better than her best friend?

She looked Ree straight in the eye. “I have something to tell you, and you're not going to believe it. You're going to think I'm nuts. I think I'm nuts for even telling you. But I have to. And you have to promise to listen and not laugh at me, okay?”

Looking both concerned and confused, Ree
squeezed Jamie's hand. “Sugar, you have my undivided attention.”

Jamie took a breath, then blurted it all out in one nonstop rush. “I found a sword in the attic when I went to get the extension cord that night. When I pulled it out of the scabbard, Sebastien appeared, dressed like this amazing pirate, which he is, or was, a couple hundred years ago. Only now he's a genie … in a cupid kind of way. I'm not sure how it happened. He said that, as his new mistress, I had to choose three souls for him to match with their soulmates, and naturally, I thought he was nuts, so just to placate him I … I sort of named you and Marta.”

Ree's mouth, having already dropped open, opened even wider, prompting Jamie to rush on even faster. “It was a challenge kind of thing, and really, next to me, you two are the last people who want or even believe in soulmates, so it wasn't really an issue. Only it turns out he really believes this whole deal and he's bent on finding your eternal love matches. As proof, sort of, that he is who he says he is. And if he succeeds, then he plans to find mine for me. I tried to talk him out of the whole thing yesterday, only he's not budging. He says it's his destiny. Our destiny.” She ran out of steam then, and in the face of Ree's open-mouthed silence, lamely added, “Help?”

Ree sat back, finally closing her mouth. “Dear Lord in heaven. What did you just say?”

Jamie rested her head on her hands, looking down at her cooling coffee. “I can't say it again. It sounded too weird saying it out loud the first time.” Thunder rocked the building again, as if Mother Nature was putting in her two cents. Jamie peered up between her hands. “What am I going to do, Ree?”

“You really mean this, don't you?” When Jamie
nodded miserably, Ree went into mother-hen mode again. She took hold of both of Jamie's hands and tightened her hold on them. “What is it with our luck with men, huh? But this one beats all, doesn't he?” She laughed.

“I'm not finding the humor here,” Jamie said woodenly.

“Oh, honey, he seems harmless enough. Well, in a nonserial-killer kind of way, I mean. He certainly is one sexy wacko, you have to give him that. Do you think we should call someone? Maybe call around to the local hospital psych wards and see if they're missing a man who thinks he's a genie?” She shook her head, laughing again. “It's going to take me a while to get used to that one.” Then suddenly she stilled and dropped Jamie's hand. Her face went a little pale.

“What?” Jamie demanded. “What is it?”

“I just remembered something he said, something we talked about that day along the river.” She looked at Jamie. “He claims he knew Edgar.”

Jamie's eyes widened. “Your Edgar? When? How?”

“He said it was a long time ago. He knew all about Lucy too.”

They both sat there, staring at each other as their minds worked separately. Jamie spoke first. “He told me it had been a long time since he'd been summoned. And the sword was in this building, which belonged to—”

“Edgar,” Ree breathed, eyes wide. “He went on and on about how much in love Edgar and Lucy were.” She covered her mouth with her hand. Lowering it, she said, “You don't really think that maybe … you know … he matched them?”

Thunder rumbled again, the rain pounding harder against the windows. The gray light cast eerie shadows across the room, setting a tone where it was possible
to believe that maybe, just maybe, things like ghosts, witches—and pirate genies—existed.

But Jamie was already shaking her head firmly back and forth. “Not even for a millisecond.”

Ree settled her direct gaze on Jamie. “Liar. You have thought about this.” Then she smacked Jamie's hand.

“Hey!”

“And didn't tell me! What kind of friend are you?”

“One who didn't want her best friends to think she'd gone off the deep end. I mean, really, Ree Ann, what was I going to say? ‘;Hey, I just met this cute guy in the attic who says he's a genie. He's going to match us all up with our soulmates. Isn't that neat?'” Her fake smile vanished. “Get real.”

“You're telling me now, though.”

“Well, I didn't think he'd come back. And when he did, I thought I could handle it, find out what was really going on. But after yesterday I figured I had to clue you guys in, because I don't know what he's really capable of.” She leaned forward. “He also claims to have worked for Napoleon and Jean Laffite.”

Ree goggled. “Whoa.”

“Exactly.”

“Maybe we should call someone.”

“I don't know. We'll have to tell Marta too. I mean, he's out there somewhere, dreaming up God knows what kind of scheme.”

“You're right. But damn, what a disappointment.”

Jamie actually found a thin smile. “Hey, never a dull moment in my life.”

Ree laughed. “Yeah, and you've added a new category. All the good ones are either married, gay—or genies.”

Just then the door blew open and banged loudly against the wall, making them both yelp and jump up at the same time.

“Sorry, it got away from me in the wind.” Marta struggled through the door with her umbrella, which hadn't done too good a job of keeping her dry. Her hair was plastered to one side of her head, and her trim pants and shop shirt were damp and clinging to her thin frame. She grabbed at the door and turned back to look outside. “Oh, no, you're not following me in here too. Now get on home. You must have one somewhere. Go on, get!”

Their other worries momentarily forgotten, both Jamie and Ree went to the door. “Marta, what on earth—” Ree began, but stopped short when a small, wet, bedraggled dog came trotting into the store, stopping right in the middle of the trio and giving a good, healthy shake.

“Oh!” Ree jumped back as dirt and wet and grit splattered her crisply creased khakis.

Marta swore. “I'm sorry, guys.”

Jamie laughed. “You find a friend at the market this morning, Mar?”

She snapped her umbrella shut and set her bags on the floor. “Hardly. He found me. He followed me all the way back here, no matter what I did to discourage him.”

“No owner in the market?”

“I asked around, but no one knew him or remembered seeing him there before.” She looked down at the now-shivering mutt and narrowed her eyes. “I guess we have to call the pound.”

Jamie looked at Marta in disbelief. “We can't do that to this poor little guy.” She leaned down to check for a collar, but the dog immediately shuffled closer to Marta, sitting on her feet. “It's okay, I just want to check your collar, fella.”

He shivered harder and tried to climb up Marta's leg.

“Oh, for heaven's sake,” Marta said with exasperation, trying to dislodge the clinging creature with her umbrella.

Ree had dashed over to the café counter and came back now, kneeling down with her hand outstretched. She had a broken piece of biscotti in her palm. “Here you go, sugar. Come on, now, that's a good boy.” But the dog remained stubbornly attached to Marta's now wet and muddy pants legs.

“Since he's your buddy, why don't you check his collar for a tag?” Jamie said to Marta.

“I don't want a buddy,” Marta replied through clenched teeth.

Ree laughed. “Oh, come on, now, he's sort of cute, or will be once he's cleaned up a bit.” He was small, maybe twenty pounds or so, tops, with a mix of black, brown, and tan shaggy fur. Sort of a Benji-type mutt. “Maybe we could make him our mascot here.” Marta's eyes widened in horror.

Jamie frowned. “What do you have against dogs?” She'd known Marta for ten years, but she couldn't remember them ever discussing pets before. Jamie had never had one—living on boats most of her life made that kind of hard. But Marta had had a typical middle-class upbringing. “Didn't you have one growing up?”

“Yes,” she said tightly. “We had a spaniel. From the time I was born until I was fourteen.” She looked to Jamie, then to Ree, her fierce look crumbling. “I don't want to ever lose another living thing, okay?”

“Oh, sugar.” Ree immediately went to Marta and would have hugged her except for the sudden weak snarls coming from the dog. Ree kept her distance but aimed a warm, comforting smile toward her. “Honey, I'm sorry. I should have guessed that you wouldn't want to get attached.”

Marta's momentary hollow-eyed look hardened a bit. “Besides, he probably belongs to someone.”

“Well, check the tag on his collar and we can start looking for the owner,” Jamie said. Her heart had dipped, too, at Marta's stark expression. She was a quieter person than either Jamie or Ree, even more so these past few years. And she'd always had a huge heart, which was why Jamie had been surprised at her reaction to the dog. But Dan's death had left a gaping black hole in that big heart. She'd come a long way toward healing, but there were some boundaries Marta had made clear she never wanted to cross again. Falling in love was a big one, and that understandably extended to small, furry animals.

Marta reached down and patted the dog halfheartedly on the head. His wet tail immediately began slapping the floor, sending sprinkles of mud and grit all over them. The dog was oblivious, looking up at Marta with the adoring eyes of one looking upon his savior and queen. With a disgusted sigh, she untangled the fur around the collar and dislodged the metal tag. “It's his rabies tag. The number of the vet clinic that registered it is on here, though. Wait a minute.” She freed another tag. “Just a name.” She looked up at Ree and Jamie. “No number or address.” At their questioning looks, she sighed again and said, “Baxter. His name is Baxter.”

“Oh, how darling is that?” Ree asked, kneeling down again and calling to the dog. But he only had eyes for his self-appointed mistress. “Obviously there is someone out there who loves you, little guy.”

Marta looked at them almost pleadingly. “Can you please get him off me now?”

They were saved from responding when the door opened again. And Sebastien walked in.