Chapter 50 Jasper’s Bluff
Jasper’s Bluff
Jasper stared down into the pot he stirred. Then he called out an order for table twelve and listened with only half an ear as the voices came back, “Yes, chef.”
He flipped pancakes fluffed to perfection. He chopped fruit into paper-thin slices, fresh and sweet and only the best. He made deals with local growers for vegetables.
He’d made other deals along the way, too.
It had been so long, he almost convinced himself the call wouldn’t come.
Sometimes he asked himself what he had done, and sometimes he looked around the restaurant that he owned, serving the menu that he dictated, and felt deep pride that his training and skill made this place what it was.
The framed certificate that hung on the wall behind the cash register, saying he graduated from one of the most acclaimed pastry schools in Paris, made this place a hit.
Or was it maybe some other reason? Because he hadn’t gotten into the famous school the first time.
He’d applied with his local culinary degree firmly in his fist and his talent under his belt, and it hadn’t been enough. Though his parents tried to comfort him, to suggest other options, even suggest he try something else entirely, Jasper had been inconsolable.
He didn’t know what the hell he’d been doing that day, driving around aimlessly. He’d been two towns over when the little house beckoned him with the name Velasco over the mailbox and the pentacle subtly planted in the black-eyed susans. It seemed like fate.
He’d ridiculously pulled up the drive and knocked on the door. Introducing himself as a Velasco and wondering if they were related. Two hours later, he’d struck a deal with the old woman. She had to be family, didn’t she?
Suddenly, a waitlist position opened, and he was going to Paris. When he came back, the certificate opened doors—for loans, for the restaurant, for the people who wanted to work under him. Or had it? Was it still part of the spell she’d cast?
He’d spent his life building the dream he wanted and hiding how he built it.
When he met someone, if he actually really liked them, he wound up keeping them at bay.
Because the old woman told him there would be a cost, and he wasn’t sure he could afford it.
One day a favor would be called in, and he’d have to pay it.
She’d waved it away as if it would be nothing.
But he’d learned, all magic came at a cost. He’d not let anyone close, and he worried about his family.
He didn’t really date and didn’t let anyone get to know him well enough to develop anything strong, or lasting, or real.
Even when Delanie Goodman made it clear she had feelings for him, he’d simply ignored her.
No matter how much he liked her, no matter how much she’d grown into a woman who haunted his dreams sometimes, he couldn’t bring her into this.
He lived a life that made his family say, “Oh, Jasper’s just focused on growing his business.”
And he’d found a magic all his own. The Velascos weren’t supposed to have any. He wondered if it was a slip of history, or if he’d actually broken something somewhere along the way, letting the old woman cast for him. Had he let the rumored dark family magic back in?
Rowan getting back together with Annelise had struck fear in his heart. Annelise saw all kinds of things she wasn’t supposed to, and he wondered if she’d already looked right through him and seen what he’d done. But she hadn’t said anything to him. Yet.
He’d been breathing more shallowly since the last flood had come, afraid something would show what he really was. But he did what he could. Fed everybody, been a good citizen, glad he had the place and the support to do that kind of work like he truly wanted to.
Then Rowan and Annelise got back together, and Jasper waited. But he was still okay. The town was cleared up after the flood, though it would take a while still for the damage to truly be fixed. Rowan had waved whatever legal magic wand he had, and the families had gotten their payouts a week ago.
The houses would be fixed. The families wouldn’t be left in ruins.
And Jasper hadn’t been called out. He’d always known there would be a cost, but he told himself every time the fear rolled through him that maybe it wouldn’t come.
Now Jasper looked down into the pot and he stirred it, wondering what else he had stirred up. Because last night the message had come through loud and clear that what he owed was due.