Your Wish Is My Command Page 5

  “Napoleon,” she repeated, still processing the rest.

  “Oui." His expression hardened somewhat. “I was never to see my family again. But he was not a man one said no to.”

  No, of course not. Especially at age eleven. Which meant, according to him, he'd been born—she did a little mental calculation—roughly two hundred ten years ago.

  Right. “So. Okay.” Jamie painted a bright smile on her face as she took a careful step backward. She'd purposely given up her high-speed, globe-trotting life for this run-of-the-mill, “normal” existence. Her biggest fear was supposed to be potential boredom burnout, not being pursued by a guy claiming to have run around with his buddies Napoleon and Jean Laffite. She took another step, edging toward the doorway.

  Sebastien didn't come after her, but the knowing smile on his face told her he was perfectly aware of what she was doing. “I will convince you, ma maîtresse. I always do.”

  She stopped, less than a yard from the door and safety. Well, she hoped safety. Lately, things never seemed to work out like she planned. “I'm convinced, okay? You are who you say you are.” Yeah, right. “But, you know, maybe it's better if we just forget this whole bet thing right now. I don't want to make you angry or anything, it's just that this isn't something I'm interested in being involved with. I shouldn't have agreed to it. It's my fault, really, so don't take offense. But maybe you should go find someone else to do your matching-up-soulmate stuff with. No hard feelings. Deal?”

  “Our deal has already been sealed, mon ami."

  That kiss again. She'd known that was going to be trouble. “Really, I—”

  “Our destiny was fated the moment you drew the Sword of Hearts, Jamie Sullivan. I am sorry that my appearance in your life has caused you concern. It is not my intention to bring distress.” He walked closer, not stopping until he was just outside the line of personal space.

  It didn't feel like he was outside the line, though. He consumed her space, even from across the room. And her air. There was a distinct tightness in her lungs. Probably that was why she couldn't move. “It's just that—”

  “Shhh.” He held up a finger.

  She froze, half-praying he'd touch her, just one more time, and half-praying he wouldn't. Just so when this was over she could claim her dignity for not having fallen at his feet in a puddle of aching hormones.

  “It will be done, ma chérie.” he said quietly. “There is nothing either of us can do.”

  His words held such sincerity that it was almost impossible for her not to believe everything he'd said. It was very clear he believed every word. But that was insane.

  “I have never once failed. Can you not be satisfied with the knowledge that you and your friends will find lifelong happiness for putting up with my presence for just a little while?”

  “How—” The word came out sounding like a frog croak, and she was forced to clear her throat. “How long is a little while?” Damn her for asking that. She should be politely yet forcefully making him understand that he could not stay and be part of her life or that of her friends. Period.

  He lifted his shoulders in that Gallic way European men had. God, he even shrugged sexy.

  “Each time I am summoned is different from the last. I cannot say. Only that if you help me, it will go as swiftly as is possible.”

  “And if I refuse?”

  He did touch her then. His fingertip traced the line of her jaw and came to rest just under her chin. He exerted the least bit of pressure but brought her chin up just enough so that her eyes directly met his.

  “I will do my job anyway. I will not go away until your destiny has been found. For that is my destiny. Neither of us can escape it.”

  Chapter 5

  Jamie sat down across from Ree with their second

  I cups of coffee and two pieces of biscotti. Thunder rumbled across the sky, causing the windows to vibrate and the deep-brown liquid in their mugs to shake. Heavy rains lashed the tall storefront windows. They'd had one customer since they'd opened.

  “This will let up soon,” Ree predicted. “Morning storms always do. But it's going to be a muggy one this afternoon. Thank goodness Fred got his refrigeration units fixed.”

  Fred Bartelone, a retired Picayune reporter and Quarter favorite, owned Get the Scoop, the ice cream shop located around the corner from Happily Ever After. “Yeah. Maybe we'll get some of his overflow traffic. Preferably after they've finished their ice cream,” Jamie added dryly.

  “Shoot,” Ree said, “I'm planning on being part of that traffic.”

  Jamie smiled, then started when a ripping bolt of lightning was followed by an explosive bang of thunder. “I'm not so sure this one is going to let up anytime soon.”

  Ree toasted her with her mug. “More time for ice cream, then.”

  “Yeah, well, when we've slurped up what infinitesimal bit of profit we made today on chocolate chip cookie dough, you get to be the one to tell Marta, deal?”

  Ree settled back in her chair. “Just be thankful she is such a good accountant. I still can't believe she went up to the market in this mess.” She shook her head. “Who would have pegged her as a thunderstorm junkie?”

  “Yeah, and I thought I was the elemental one.”

  Ree nodded, then smiled. “I think this whole thing has been good for her. I'm glad she got away from that job in Baton Rouge working for that misogynist SOB of a boss. I don't know why she put up with that company. They used her.”

  “Well, she used them, too, Ree. She needed to be needed after Dan died, and they fit the bill.”

  “You mean they took advantage of her grief and worked her like a dog.”

  Jamie shrugged but nodded. “I know. I just wish we could pay her better here so she didn't have to take in freelance work on the side. She's doing Fred's books too now, you know.”

  “Yeah, she told me. I think she likes it, though. People needing her, being in charge of her own work. She told me just the other day that this is the most independent she's ever felt. I mean, she married Dan when we were all still at Tulane, then gave her whole life to Aaron Associates after he died. So this is exciting for her. It's the first time she's taken real control of her life. She's really enjoying this, Jamie.”

  Truth be told, Jamie was enjoying it too. More than she'd expected. “It's been good for all of us.”

  Ree laughed. “Amazing what a couple of old college chums can do when they put their minds together.”

  “I know. Hard to believe one lunch conversation six months ago could make us change our whole lives.” When Jamie had turned thirty just before the end of the year, Ree and Marta had insisted she come and visit them for the holidays and a long-overdue celebration. She'd been somewhere else, racing around the globe, on their landmark birthdays. It had been a long time—too long—since she'd made the time to come back and visit. Marta had still been buried at Aaron Associates, and Ree had just buried her longtime companion, Edgar Santini, and come into possession of the piece of real estate in which they currently sat.

  “I've said it before. We were all at a crossroads, Jamie. Each of us was ready to make a drastic change. Maybe it was destiny that brought us together at that same point in each of our lives.”

  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 loo
k. “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.”
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  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.”