The Satyr's Curse (The Satyr's Curse Series Book 1) (4 page)

Jazzmyn suddenly felt guilty for attacking him, but she knew she could not tolerate his outbursts anymore, especially when it came to her private life. She had been treading a fine line with Kyle for a while. He had become a close friend and a shoulder to rely on, but he was also an employee and could not receive special treatment anymore.

Kyle slowly nodded his head. “Yeah, I got it, Jazz.”

Jazzmyn’s heart tugged for him, but she squelched her desire to comfort him. When Jazzmyn glanced over at the desk where Ms. Helen was sitting, she gave the older woman a stern rebuke with her eyes.

“Feel better ‘bout yourself?” Ms. Helen said across the kitchen. “‘Cause all the boy was tryin’ to do was show you what we all was thinkin’ since that dark spirit walked through our door.”

“Please, Ms. Helen,” Kyle protested. “Don’t try and help me. It seems Jazzmyn has already made up her mind about which one of us she wants.” He quickly headed back to the prep table.

Jazzmyn faced the entrance to the dining area and placed a stray brown lock of hair back behind her ear. When she walked through the door, she noticed that a few more tables were empty and only a handful of diners were left. But as she turned to the bar, she saw Julian refilling his wine glass. Jazzmyn walked up to the bar and took the stool next to him.

“Sorry about that.” She nodded to Scott behind the bar and pointed to the wine glasses stacked in back of him.

Scott grabbed a wine glass and placed it on the bar before her. Julian took the bottle of merlot in his hand and lifted it over her glass.

“Your chef seems very passionate,” Julian commented as he filled her glass with the deep burgundy liquid.

“Passionate?” Jazzmyn lightly chuckled. “That’s one way of putting it.”
“Passionate about you, I mean,” Julian clarified. “Would I be correct in assuming that I might be treading on another man’s toes as far as you and your chef are concerned?” He put the bottle down on the bar and looked over to Jazzmyn.

She picked up her glass. “No, there’s nothing between Kyle and me.”

Julian skeptically arched one dark eyebrow. “Are you sure? I get the feeling you two are close.”

“We’re close, but not that close,” Jazzmyn affirmed as she inspected the wine. “He’s my employee and a tad bit possessive, sort of like a big brother, but that’s it.”

Julian grinned as he picked up his glass from the bar. “I’m so glad to hear that.”

Jazzmyn glanced up at him. “Really? Why are you glad?”

Julian tipped his glass against hers. “Because now I know there are no other challengers vying to win your affection. I have you all to myself.”

Jazzmyn’s heart did a quick summersault as she took a sip from her wine. But then she had to remind herself that Julian Devereau was nothing more than a very good customer; to hope for anything else with the attractive gentleman was simply unrealistic.

Chapter 4

At eleven o’clock Jazzmyn escorted the last of the diners out of the restaurant and secured the lock on the entrance door behind them. As she flipped the switch that turned out The Sweet Note Bistro neon sign outside, she smiled. When she had been a little girl, turning off the restaurant sign that hung above the front door had been a special ritual she had shared with her father.

“This is something only the owner of the establishment must see to, Jazzmyn. It’s bad luck for anyone other than the owner to turn out the lights,” her father had told her on a hot August night not long after opening the doors to his lifelong dream.

“Good night, Daddy,” she whispered into the darkened dining room. 

The sound of clanking pots from beyond the kitchen doorway snapped her back from the past. She sighed and reached behind her back to rub the kink that had settled there. As she walked past the bar, she spied the red leather stool where Julian had been seated earlier that evening. He had left about an hour before closing, promising to return, but never did. Jazzmyn shrugged off her disappointment, knowing there would be other nights and more encounters with the interesting man. Besides, she was in no rush to get involved with anyone right now. Her restaurant left her little time for a social life, and the idea of beginning a relationship while trying to juggle a seven-day a week eatery seemed a bit daunting. Perhaps down the road she would begin to want something deeper, but at least for now, flirting with the attractive Julian Devereau was enough…or so she hoped.

The ache in Jazzmyn’s back began to nag at her, and she longed for a respite from her toil. She was tired of the late nights of adding up receipts, checking inventory, and tallying the totals for the day; tired of placating obnoxious customers, demanding suppliers, uppity health inspectors, and Kyle. Tonight’s outburst had pushed her further than ever before…sooner or later she was afraid he would push her too far. 

“Jazz,” Scott called from the kitchen doorway. “You want me to lock up?”

“The servers already split up their tips?” she asked.

“Lydia saw to it. She left about five minutes ago. Kyle closed down the kitchen and headed out the back door behind her.”

A jolt of surprise ran through Jazzmyn. “Kyle left?”

Scott nodded. “You want me to wait for you to do the receipts and give you a ride home? My bike is parked out front.”

“No, go on home, Scott.” She walked toward him. “I’m just going to lock up the office and come by early in the morning to do the deposits. I’m too tired for any paperwork tonight.” She stopped in front of him.

Scott focused his small hazel eyes on her as he knitted his brow. “You all right, Jazz? You’ve been tired a lot lately.”

Jazzmyn patted his forearm. “I’m fine, Scott.”

He moved back from the kitchen doorway to allow her to pass. “That’s what your old man said. Six months later he was gone.”

“I’m not like Dad, Scott.” 

“Yes, you are.” Scott peered into the darkened dining room. “I watched Jack pour his soul into this place from the first day he opened it. Ever since you quit graduate school to take over for him, I haven’t seen you have any kind of life.” He looked back to her. “You’re here every morning and close every night, just like Jack did. You can’t spend all your days trying to please people like Judge Serpas and Ms. Mae. You need to start pleasing yourself before life passes you by.”

“Are you being my bartender now or my friend?” Jazzmyn questioned with a smile.

“Both. Your father would want me to tell you to have a life away from the restaurant, Jazz. I love you too much to watch you kill yourself like your old man did.”

“Thanks, Uncle Scott.”

“Uncle Scott?” A dubious grin stretched across his lips. “You haven’t called me Uncle Scott since you were fifteen and thought you were grown-up enough to start calling me just Scott.”

“I was fifteen and had a crush on you. I was trying to be sophisticated so you would be interested in me.”

Scott let out a heartwarming chuckle, and Jazzmyn watched as the sides of his eyes crinkled up. When she had been a young girl, that little feature had driven her mad.

“Interested in you?” Scott shook his head. “Somehow I don’t think your father or the New Orleans Police Department would have approved.”

Jazzmyn moved into the kitchen. “Well, you can’t blame a girl for trying.”

Scott followed behind her. “And what are you trying to do with the wino?”

Jazzmyn turned around to face him. “Not you, too.”

He placed his hands in his black trouser pockets. “You spend a lot of time with him at the bar, Jazz. I know you, and you’re not sitting there and listening to all of his BS to be polite.” He studied her for a moment. “You like him, don’t you?” he finally inquired.

Jazzmyn shrugged slightly. “I like talking to him; he’s interesting, has traveled all over the world, and is very smart. He looks at my eyes and not my bustline when he talks to me. Anything more than that, I don’t know.”

“If you ask me, the man definitely has plans for you.”

She frowned at him, a little concerned by his comment. “What makes you say that?”

Scott walked past her and into the narrow hallway. “I’ve seen how he looks at you. It’s almost the way an addict looks at a drug…like you’re something he needs, not someone he wants.”

“Well, don’t worry, Scott. I think all he comes here to do is flirt with me. I doubt it will go any further than that.”

Scott moved toward the entrance to the office. “Don’t be so sure about that.” He waited as Jazzmyn came toward him. “Are you positive I can’t offer you a ride home?”

She shook her head as she stopped before him. “No, go on. Lynda and Scott Jr. will be waiting up for you.”

“Correction, Lynda will be waiting up. Scottie will be, hopefully, passed out in his crib until his 2 a.m. feeding.”

“Ah, the joys of a new baby.”

Scott pointed his finger at her. “Something you need to get working on having soon, Jazz.”

“Takes two to make one of those, Scott. I still haven’t found my other half.”

“He’s out there, kiddo. Just start looking.” He kissed her on the cheek. “Have you got your gun?”

Jazzmyn nodded. “In my purse. I never leave home without it.”

“Good girl.” Scott made his way to the back door with its red “exit” sign above it. “I’ll wait outside for you to lock up and set the alarm.” He then pushed the heavy steel door open and walked outside.

Jazzmyn went to her desk and unlocked the drawer containing her purse. She pulled out the brown leather handbag and withdrew a .32 hammerless Smith and Wesson revolver from it. She checked the safety on the gun and then replaced it in her purse.

After she locked the office door, Jazzmyn walked over to the small keypad by the rear entrance. She typed in her security code and then pressed the silver handle on the heavy metal door and pushed it open.

When she stepped into the cool night air, she saw Scott standing beneath a nearby streetlight, talking to a tall man in a suit. When both men turned to see her exiting the building, Jazzmyn smiled when she saw Julian’s handsome face staring back at her.

“Julian, what are you doing here?”

“I told you I would return, but unfortunately you had already closed for the night. I decided to wait at the rear entrance to catch you on your way out.” Julian nodded to Scott. “I was just informed that you are in need of an escort home,” he added with a dazzling smile.

Jazzmyn scowled at Scott.

Scott held up his hands, attempting to allay her furor. “Hey, don’t get mad at me, he offered. I would feel better knowing someone walked you home…even him.”

Julian gave a bemused smirk. “I appreciate the vote of confidence.”

“Just make sure she gets home safe, that’s all I ask.” Scott nodded to Julian and then walked over to Jazzmyn. “See you tomorrow, Jazz. Be good.” Scott winked and then headed down the sidewalk toward Magazine Street. 

After Scott disappeared around the front of the building, Jazzmyn turned to Julian. She pulled the purse slung over her shoulder closer to her body. “You don’t have to see me home. It’s pretty safe around here.”

Julian walked up to her. “Don’t be an idiot, Jazzmyn. It’s New Orleans, and it is never safe. Besides, Scott already threatened to have me beaten to within an inch of my life if I laid a finger on you.” He raised one dark eyebrow. “I gave him my word that I would conduct myself as a gentleman.” 

“Your word?” She lightly snickered. “And he believed you?”

“I was very persuasive.” He held out his hand to her. “My car is around front. Shall we?”

She looked down at his outstretched hand and hesitated. What did she really know about this man? Kyle’s concerns about Julian briefly swirled about in her head. The weight of her purse on her shoulder reminded her of the gun hiding there. If Julian did turn out to be a depraved weirdo, she felt confident that she could protect herself.

Jazzmyn took his hand, and the second her flesh touched his a current of electricity zoomed throughout her body. The sensation was exhilarating and at the same time unnerving. Never before had she felt anything close to that from any man. She gazed up into his dark eyes and sensed something different in them, something she had not seen prior to that moment.

Julian squeezed her hand and began leading her down the side of the building toward Magazine Street. Jazzmyn walked beside him, looking up at him as if she were seeing him for the very first time. She was drawn to him; she could not understand it. It was as if his touch had awakened something in her. She felt feminine, attractive, and her thoughts quickly turned to sex. Jazzmyn blushed at the provocative images of Julian racing across her mind. This was not like her…she never thought of sex. She was usually too tired or too busy to dwell on what she was missing. An overwhelming sense of need to understand Julian, to learn all she could about him, swept over her. 

“I think I will rather enjoy seeing you out of that rather pungent element of yours,” Julian said as he led her beneath the bright lights of Magazine Street.

“What pungent element?” Jazzmyn asked, a little confused.

Julian nodded to the building next to them. “The restaurant, of course. I think Kyle has been a little heavy-handed with the garlic lately.”

She stared at him, feeling somewhat surprised that someone else had noticed the liberal use of garlic in the food. “How can you tell?”

“I have a very sensitive sense of smell,” he admitted with a smile. “Now that I have you away from your restaurant, I’m looking forward to seeing how you…‘meet my thoughts head on with your own’ when you are alone with me.”

Jazzmyn laughed, feeling her apprehension ease slightly. “I hope you aren’t too disappointed Julian, but I’m exhausted and not up for our usual playful banter.”

“That’s good. It will give me a chance to get to know the real you. I want to see what kind of woman you are outside of that monastery you lock yourself up in every night. There is a world beyond The Sweet Note Bistro, Jazzmyn.”

Her body sagged with relief as she felt the warmth of his hand. “I wouldn’t know too much about that world. Ever since my father died, my life has been the restaurant.”

Julian strolled along next to her, intently examining her face. “Would he have wanted you cocooned away like that? Somehow I think your father would have wished for you to have a life beyond your restaurant.”

“But my father never had a life, period. He spent every day of the last thirteen years of his life running the restaurant.”

Julian stopped walking and turned to her. “You told me once he was a musician.”

She surveyed the light traffic on the street. “He was a jazz pianist. He played for a bunch of local bands, but quit after my mother pestered him to get a real job. That was when he scraped together some money and opened the restaurant. The only problem was, once he got the restaurant, he lost my mother.”

Julian let go of her hand. “You said she ran off with an actor.”

She glanced back at him. “I don’t remember telling you that.”

He grinned. “But I remember.”

Jazzmyn chalked up her forgetfulness to fatigue. “My mother met someone while working on a movie being filmed in the city. She was always enamored with Hollywood, and would jump at any chance to work as an extra in local film productions.” She set her eyes on the cracked cement below her feet. “One day I came home from school and found all of her clothes were gone. Dad told me she had gone on a trip, but it didn’t take me long to figure out that she wasn’t coming back.”

“How old were you?”

“I was ten when she left.”

He pulled his car keys out of his front trouser pocket. “Are you still in touch with her?”

Jazzmyn shook her head. “No. When she left my father, she left me, too. I never heard from her again.”

Julian’s eyes carefully pondered her face. “I get the impression that was very hard for you.”

She shrugged. “At first, after she left, I cried into my pillow every night. But then I had my family at the restaurant and things got better.”

“Did you ever try to find her?”