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Authors: Jacklyn Brady

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BOOK: Rebel Without a Cake
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“I haven't spoken with Ox either. Please. Take it. It will help you.”

I didn't want to insult Mambo Odessa, but I didn't want to take the beads either. “It's kind of you, but I don't think the bracelet will help unless I believe it will. I'm sorry, but I don't.”

Mambo Odessa looked cool and unruffled in her white dress. “It won't hurt you, child. It's simply a Brazilian wish bracelet.”

I was growing warmer by the minute standing out there in the sun. “It's not that—” I began.

“You don't trust me. I know that. I understand. But I sense many obstacles in your path. I know they will present a challenge so I made this for you. You must wear it until it falls off.”

I still didn't believe the beads held any special power, but maybe her intentions were good. I hoped that counted for something. I took the bracelet and smiled. Besides, I didn't want her putting some kind of spell on me for being rude. “Then thank you.”

“I know that you are important to many people.”

I laughed before I could stop myself. I knew people cared about me, but I'd never considered myself
important
to anyone except, at first, Philippe. I didn't think anyone's world would spin out of orbit if I disappeared tomorrow.

“Isabeau speaks very highly of you,” Mambo Odessa said earnestly.

“That's nice to know. She speaks well of you, too.” I noticed that she didn't say Ox was a fan of mine, but in light of the way he'd been acting, I wasn't surprised. I was raised to keep my nose out of other people's business, but I also struggle with a healthy, active curiosity. Curiosity won over manners. “Isabeau mentioned that Ox isn't a believer in what you do. She said she has to sneak around to see you.”

Mambo Odessa smiled. “Ox is a stubborn boy, but he has a good heart.”

“And a little trouble with the truth,” I mumbled. She looked at me oddly and I realized that I'd spoken aloud. I should never let my frustrations get the best of me. “Maybe it's none of my business, but they both work for me so I'm concerned that you're encouraging Isabeau to go behind Ox's back.”

“You worry that he'll be angry with her.”

“Yes. And if he's angry with her, she'll get all wigged out. If he's angry and she's wigged out, that will affect their work. And then the rest of the staff will think they have to take sides and everybody will get involved, and before you know it, nobody will be getting anything done. It would be better for everyone if you encouraged Isabeau to tell Ox the truth.”

Mambo Odessa smiled softly. “They are going to be just fine. Their relationship won't make the others stop working.”

Her certainty annoyed me. “I hope you're right. Maybe I'm the only one who has a problem with trusting someone who keeps secrets.” I didn't have anything else to say so I dangled the bracelet from a finger and said, “Thanks for this. I really should get going.”

“You'll wear it?”

“Um . . . sure.” I slipped it on my wrist and fumbled to secure it with one hand.

Mambo Odessa leaned in to help. The strong scent of incense rose up from her hair and clothes, and my eyes watered. “Don't remove the bracelet,” she said softly. “Let it fall off when its work is done. And don't be too hasty to judge. We don't always know what another person is thinking.” She squeezed my hand tightly and looked me in the eye. I think. It was hard to tell with those sunglasses. “Look for the blue shutters.”

I blinked. “What?”

“When you come to the shop. Look for the blue shutters. That's how you'll find me.”

“Oh. Yeah. Sure. I'll remember that.”

She walked away, as if we'd just had a perfectly normal encounter. At least I wasn't worried about how she'd known where I'd be. All that stuff about Ox and Isabeau could mean only one thing: Ox had known what I'd learn during my meeting with Simone O'Neil and he'd sent his aunt to do damage control.

After Mambo Odessa disappeared (through a doorway, not in a puff of smoke or anything), I got into my car and pulled out onto the street. I had no idea why Ox had kept his friendship with Simone a secret, or why he thought it was so important to keep it from me, but I was getting tired of all the secrets. I thought it was time for a little honesty.

Eighteen

By the time I left the French Quarter, it was nearly six. Knowing that Zydeco would be closing soon and Ox would be leaving the bakery any minute, I decided to head him off at the Dizzy Duke. The good angel on my shoulder warned me to wait until I'd cooled down. I told her to shut up and mind her own damn business.

Traffic was so thick it took nearly an hour to get back to the Garden District, which did nothing to improve my mood. To make matters worse, I had to park around the corner and two blocks down from the bar in a seedy part of the neighborhood that always made me nervous after dark. After I locked my doors, I threaded the keys through my fingers and vowed that if anything happened to me, I'd make sure Ox knew it was his fault.

Muted music and laughter drifted out of the bar as I got closer. I wished I could just go inside and relax. Why couldn't Ox just man up and be honest? Part of me knew I should let my irritation with him go, but I'd had an hour in traffic to get worked up over that poorly disguised visit from Mambo Odessa. The whole way across town I'd tried to pull off that cheap bracelet but jute—or whatever it was—is surprisingly strong.

Inside the Duke, I immediately looked behind the bar. Seeing Gabriel Broussard working cheered me up a little. Gabriel and I have gone out from time to time. He's one reason Sullivan and I aren't more serious. That and the fact that I'm still gun-shy after my almost-divorce. Plus, I honestly care for both men. Besides, Sullivan is solid and dependable and hot, while Gabriel is charming and mysterious and . . . well, hot. How's a girl to choose?

Gabriel gave me one of his sexy Cajun smiles—the ones that always turn my blood to warm honey.

I made a beeline for him and thrust out my wrist. “Scissors, please.”

A lazy lock of dark brown hair fell across his forehead, and his eyes roamed over me with stark appreciation. “Why do you need scissors?”

I shook my wrist in front of him. “Just cut this off, okay? Scissors, a butcher knife, a chainsaw, whatever. I don't care what you use.”

He didn't move. “You know what that is?”

“Yeah. A cheap bracelet.”

He cocked an eyebrow.

“Okay. It's a Brazilian something or other. Wish beads, I think.”

“Exactly. You've been shopping?”

“If I'd paid for it, I wouldn't be asking you to cut it off,” I pointed out reasonably. “It was a gift, but I don't want it. So just cut it off already, okay?”

Gabriel found a knife by the sink and came back. “You're sure that's what you want?”

His reluctant reaction stunned me. “What is wrong with you? Are you afraid of it or something?”

“Afraid? No. Do you know what it's for?”

“Something about obstacles, blah, blah, blah.”

“Overcoming obstacles,” Gabriel said. He looked completely serious.

So serious, that all I could do was laugh. “Don't tell me you believe in this voodoo stuff.”

Gabriel gave me half a smile. “I respect it. I've seen what it can do. Who gave it to you?”

“A woman named Mambo Odessa. She's some kind of voodoo priestess.”

“And she felt that you needed this?”

I jerked my hand away. “Oh, for Pete's sake. I'll ask somebody else.”

Gabriel laughed. “Virgin margarita?”

“A regular one,” I said. “With salt.”

Gabriel tossed a coaster onto the counter in front of me and gave me another long, slow look. “You look great,
chérie.
What's the occasion
?”

I'd almost forgotten that I'd dressed up for my meeting with Simone O'Neil. I glanced down at my outfit and back up into Gabriel's dark brown eyes. “I just came from a business meeting. A very important business meeting.” Which, of course, made me remember why I'd stopped by in the first place. “Has Ox been in yet?”

“I haven't seen him. You seem upset. What's going on?”

“Secrets,” I snarled. “More secrets. I'm getting really,
really
tired of them.” I followed this up with a pointed look, which Gabriel understood immediately. We'd pretty much worked through our issues over his own failures to be honest with me, but I was pissed at Ox and he wasn't here, so unfortunately for him, that left Gabriel as target practice.

“Who got on your bad side today?” Gabriel said, grinning as if he found my righteous anger amusing. “I know it wasn't me this time.”

I took a sip of my margarita and moaned a little when heaven hit my tongue. Among his many other talents, Gabriel is a master of his craft behind the bar. His margaritas are a perfect blend of tart and sweet. “Pick one of the following,” I said when I'd recovered. “Uncle Nestor. Bernice. Ox. Isabeau. Cousin Eskil. I'm sure there are more but those are the top five.”

Gabriel leaned on the bar and gave me a sympathetic look, which might have made me feel better if his eyes hadn't been dancing with mirth. “What has your uncle done this time?”

I explained briefly about Miss Frankie and her family party, the bid for the Belle Lune Ball contract, about Uncle Nestor and the airline ticket and the bribe he'd used to make sure I kept my word. “If I'm like a daughter to him, why doesn't he trust me? I
said
I'd be there for Christmas.”

Gabriel shrugged. “He probably knows you well enough to pick up on
your
secrets.”

I almost choked on my drink.
“What secrets?”

“You just said that you haven't told Miss Frankie about your plans. That counts, right? And you haven't told your uncle that you may not be able to get back to Albuquerque for Christmas. That makes two.”

“Those aren't the same thing at all. They're not secrets, I've just been waiting for the right time to tell them.” I rested my chin in my hand and sighed. “And if I'm working the Belle Lune Ball for the Vintage Clothing Society, I still won't have time to handle a week with Miss Frankie's family. So they'll both be upset with me anyway. On the other hand, Miss Frankie may not be a problem if Cousin Eskil doesn't start talking to the police.”

Gabriel's brows furrowed. “I almost hate to ask, but who is Cousin Eskil, and what does he need to talk to the police about?”

“He's Miss Frankie's neighbor Bernice's cousin, and it's a long story.” I told him about finding Silas Laroche in the ditch and my two trips in as many days to Baie Rebelle. Out of respect for the promises I'd made, I left out the part about Eskil's visit to New Orleans on Friday night and Isabeau's unannounced visit with Mambo Odessa. Out of respect for Gabriel, I didn't mention my ruined date with Sullivan. The omissions robbed Gabriel of the full impact of my week, but what else could I do?

His smile faded quickly as I talked. No big surprise there. It was quite a story, but it wasn't sympathy that put the frown on his face. “I suppose you've convinced yourself that you just have to get involved,” he said when I finished.

“Ha! I thought you'd say that, but you suppose wrong.” I'd finished my margarita while I talked, so I nudged my glass toward him, a signal that I needed another. “I have no intention of getting involved in that murder. It's Miss Frankie and Bernice you should be worried about.”

“Those sweet old ladies? Why? What are they doing?”

“Miss Frankie thinks she's some kind of amateur sleuth now. We managed to rein them in a bit, but I have no idea what they've been doing since I came back. They could be in jail by now. Or worse.”

“And Ox? Whatever it is, you should just fire the man. He's more trouble than he's worth.”

I knew he didn't mean it. He and Ox got along well. But I liked being able to blow off steam so I went with it. “You have no idea. I have a chance for this great contract—an amazing opportunity for Zydeco. Actually Miss Frankie's the one who made the contact, but that's not the point. The point is, it's going to be great for us. I told everybody about it the other night when we were in here for Dwight's birthday. Did they get excited? No! In fact, Ox got all bent out of shape and said I was making a big mistake but he wouldn't tell me why. Like I'm supposed to do whatever he tells me just because he says to. And then he sent me off to a meeting today with Simone O'Neil without bothering to tell me that she's a friend of his. Oh!
And
she's Evangeline Delahunt's daughter. I don't think I said anything to Simone I shouldn't have, but Ox should have told me.”

Gabriel listened to the whole spiel without interrupting. “Ah. I see. He didn't give you the whole history, eh? Well. He probably should have. Fire him. Be done with it.”

I gave him a look. “You know I don't want to fire him. I just want him to stop doing stuff like this.”

“Stuff like what?”

“Like I just told you. Were you even listening?”

Gabriel brushed my cheek with the backs of his fingers, and a slow burn started deep inside me. “Yes. I was listening.”

Sexy Cajun and tequila are a lethal combination. I might have forgotten all about being angry if Ox and Isabeau hadn't walked through the door right then. Such rotten timing!

Ox acted as if he didn't see me—which only inflamed me more. Especially since Isabeau gave me a little wave as they headed toward our usual table. Anger and Sexy Cajun had a little tug-of-war but anger won out.

I hopped off my stool and grabbed my drink. “Don't you dare serve him until I get a few answers,” I warned Gabriel and set off across the bar.

Ox looked annoyed when I dropped into the seat beside his. I didn't care. Right then I could have taught him a few things about annoyed. The music on the PA system blared, making it almost impossible to carry on a conversation. I didn't care about that either. “Why didn't you tell me that Simone O'Neil is Evangeline Delahunt's daughter?”

Ox stared at me for a long moment. “You didn't ask.”

“Are you kidding me? I had to ask? That's nuts! You also didn't tell me that you know Simone well. She said to tell you hello and she's looking forward to working with you again. So what's the deal? How do you know her, and why did Philippe refuse to work for her mother?”

“This isn't the place,” Ox said.

“That's a lame excuse. Just where is the place, Ox? This place was good enough when you decided to tell me how I was signing Zydeco's death warrant. What's so special about your story that you can't tell it here?”

Slowly, he turned his head until our eyes met. “You don't know what you're asking.”

I was
so
tired of the power struggle between us. “That's kind of the point, isn't it? Why don't you put yourself in my place for five minutes? Think about how you'd feel if I knew something important about a job but didn't tell you. Or how you'd feel if every time you made a decision, I challenged you.”

Isabeau said something conciliatory. I tuned her out. This was between Ox and me.

Ox's nostrils flared and his eyes flashed. “What do you want me to say, Rita? That you're right? Okay. You're right. You feel better now?”

“No! I don't feel better at all. I thought we were friends. I thought we were working together. I thought we'd put all of this”—I waved my hands around as if I could pluck the right word out of the air—“this stupid . . .
this
behind us. What do you want from me? What will it take to get you on my side for once?”

“You think I'm not your friend, Rita? Really? Has it ever occurred to you that maybe I don't tell you things because I
am
your friend? There are some things it's best not to know.”

I was vaguely aware of Isabeau wandering away. Maybe that should have warned me that something big was coming, but it didn't.

“How could not knowing that Evangeline Delahunt is Simone O'Neil's mother be best for me? You let me walk into that meeting without all the facts. I could have said something completely inappropriate. I could have ruined everything for all of us because you withheld information from me. So who's signing Zydeco's death warrant now?”

Ox's breathing had become labored, and his eyes had narrowed to tiny slits. “You want the truth? Fine. I didn't tell you about Simone and Evangeline because I thought if you knew, you might find out the rest of the story.”

“The rest of what story? Why would I care?”

“You really want to know?” he said. “Okay, here it is. Before Philippe left here for pastry school, Evangeline set her sights on him. She thought he'd make a perfect husband for Simone and the perfect son-in-law for her. He had the right credentials, the right breeding, and the right social standing. She did everything she could to push them together.”

I blinked a couple of times. It explained why Philippe had resisted working with them, but I wasn't sure why Ox thought it would upset me. Learning about an old girlfriend from before he even met me wasn't going to send me into a tailspin. “So?”

BOOK: Rebel Without a Cake
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