Consume Me (16 page)

“Why didn’t he come?  For once in my life I relied on him and...”

“Don’t let this upset you, honey.  This is your big day.”

Tar stepped out of the antique car and looked up at the imposing cathedral.  It was spectacular.  Never in her wildest dreams would she have thought she’d find herself at the steps of something so monumental; not only the cathedral, but the ceremony to come.  The many guests in attendance, including Matt, Henri and several professors, took pictures of her before turning to enter the church.

“Ready?” Sam said.

In her father’s absence, Sam had agreed to walk her down the aisle.

As the crowd dissipated and disappeared inside, one man, freshly shaven and wearing a cheap, but clean suit, stood beside Bobby nervously holding a small bouquet of flowers.  Though life had clearly been hard on him, the resemblance between father and son was unmistakable.

“Dad?” Taryn said in a disbelieving hush.

“Sorry I didn’t meet you at the apartment like we said.  I lost the address, but I remembered the church.”

“The important thing is that you're here now.”  She climbed the few steps that brought her face to face with the man who’d been such a horrible father.

He glanced at her beautiful bouquet then down at his simple one.  “I guess you won’t be needing these.”

He was about to toss them aside when Tar reached out to him. “They’re beautiful.”  She handed her bouquet to her mother and took her father’s flowers. “They’re perfect.”

“You sure turned into a smart and beautiful young lady.”

“Thanks.”

“No thanks to me.”

“I guess in your own way you had a hand in who I’ve become.”

He shifted and chuckled uncomfortably.  “I’m so sorry for all I did to you.  You deserved better.”

“I don’t want to live in the past.  Today’s a new day, the start of a whole new life for me, and I’m happy you’re here to share it with me.”  She hooked her arm into his and turned toward the doors of the cathedral.  “I think everyone is waiting for us.”

Sam and Bobby entered first which cued the bridal march.

Tar steadied her father’s trembling hand.  “I can’t wait for you to meet my husband,” she said with a smile.

Epilogue

T
he sun was high and hot as Tar and Errol strolled hand in hand through the lush fields of Nana’s vineyards.  While they could have honeymooned anywhere in the world, Hawaii, New Zealand, Thailand, Greece, they’d both longed for the peace and serenity of the land Errol held so dear.  He’d come full circle, finding and losing love until he’d found Tar.

“So when are we going to start bottling our own wine?” Tar said as she reached out for a plump, juicy  grape.  “I’ve always wanted my own wine.”

“You’d have to find a name for it.”

“How ‘bout,
Le Petit Fils
,” she said with a smile as she popped the grape in her mouth.

“Nana would have loved that... The Grandson... sounds nicer in French.”

“It does have a nice ring to it.  Leaning into him, she shot him a teasing glance as she rubbed her belly with her free hand.  “And maybe it’s not only wine that we’ll make.”

He stopped suddenly and looked at her, his eyes narrow in confusion and restrained joy.  “Are you saying...?”

She playfully slapped his arm and laughed, pulling him onward through the vineyard.  “Not yet, no, but I’m optimistic.  By next year I hope to have a little Tarie or Erroline running around here.”

Again he stopped and looked solemnly at her.  “Are you sure you’re okay with living out here?  In France?  Are you sure you’re ready to leave New York behind... the restaurant, your family?”

“You’re my family now, Errol, and I want to go wherever you go, wherever you’re happy.  Of course I’ll miss my family, but we can always fly to New York a few times a year, and it’d be great to have them here every once in a while.  Maybe for the holidays.  It’ll sure be a change of pace from the usual Christmas parties we have back home.”

“I already know the feast I will prepare for them.  It will be like nothing they’ve ever seen.  And the midnight mass at the town chapel is small, but so moving.  I’m sure even Bobby would love it.”

“Bobby,” Tar said as she threw back her head to laugh.  “Can you imagine him here, in France, in Paris?  All the beautiful women.  He wouldn't know which way to look.”  At the thought of her little Casanova brother, her eyes misted.  Despite the joy she found with Errol, she did miss him and her mother.

Errol reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.

“What is that for?” she said, confused by his actions.

“Well,” he said, affecting the tone of a patient teacher to a slow student.  “This is a phone, and when you press the proper numbers here, it rings at the other end and you can talk to whomever you like.”

She shot him a silly grin.  “I know what it’s for.  What are you showing it to me for?”

“Ah, the importance of asking the right question at the right time.”

Giving him a shove with her hips, she almost sent him toppling over.  After he regained his balance, he held the phone up to her again.  “Call him.  Call your mother.  Call them and invite them over.”

“But, Errol, this is our honeymoon.  Surely you don’t want them...”

“We’ve been on a honeymoon for over a month.  It’s time you reconnect more with your family.  Call them.  I’m sure they’d love to see how you’re settling into the married life.”

She took the phone from him, and it instantly rang in her hand.  Startled, she looked at the display and gasped.  “It’s Bobby,” she mouthed as she took the call.  “Bobby, hi!  We were just talking about you.”

“All bad, I hope.”

“Of course, little brother.  What’re you up to?”

“Well, right now I’m strolling in front of L’Institute Culinaire de...”

“Paris?” she excitedly finished for him.

“How d’you guess?”

“Bobby, you're in Paris?”

“With Mom right here by my side.  She is cramping my style, but she’s fun to have around all the same.”

“But...how... what are..?”  Again her eyes misted over at the thought of her family so close by. She looked over at Errol, who gave her a knowing smile.

“I’ve decided to enroll.  I start in three weeks.”

“Bobby, that’s great.  You’re just a few hours away from us.  You have to come by to see us.”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

After giving him the directions, Tar hung up and looked into Errol’s loving gaze. 

“Did you have something to do with this?”

Errol shrugged. “What?”

“Why would Bobby and Mom be here on our honeymoon?”

“He shows tremendous promise, Taryn, and it appears there is a need for my class to balance out a bit…too many girls in there.  Need some testosterone.”

“So Bobby’s in your class now?” Taryn asked.

“One and another in pastry, and then…”

“Madame X?” Taryn’s mouth flew open. She wondered how Bobby would handle her.

“Perhaps…perhaps not…I heard she decided to go to Switzerland for a semester.  We’ll see.” Errol’s eyes twinkled with mischief.  “So, are you homesick now?”

Taryn reached up to kiss him. “Everyone I love is here. Why would I be homesick? As I said, dear husband, home is wherever you will be.”

“As home is where my heart lies, and where it lies is with you. Always. Forever, my beautiful wife,” Errol gazed lovingly into her eyes.

Looking at Errol’s handsome face, Taryn couldn’t imagine being anywhere else. Everything she’d ever wanted in the world was coming together.  Silently, she took Errol by the hand, guided him inside where she showed him once again, before their guests arrived, just how much she loved him.

Consume Me (Volume 3, Master Chefs Series)

Concludes Taryn and Errol’s Story.

Burn into Me (Volume 1, Burn into Me Series)

Bobby Cumming’s Story is just Beginning

2014

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A Sneak Peak at:

The Innocent

The Protege #2

Kailin Gow

Prologue

S
erena ran through the school as fast as her four inch heels and pencil skirt permitted.  It was impossible to be discreet as her heels clicked loudly on the tiled floor of the deserted hall and she felt certain every student in every class could hear her pass by.  Everyone was already in their classes where they belonged; everyone except Serena who was thirty minutes late for her very first class.

She pulled open the door to the grand lecture hall and quietly found a seat at the back of the room.  Breathless and eager to catch up on what she’d missed, she pulled out her laptop and took notes.

Her quick and quiet entrance, however, didn’t go unnoticed by the devastatingly handsome man speaking to the class.  He stopped speaking for the slightest second, a pause barely perceptible, but Serena noticed.  She also noticed the longing gaze he briefly directed at her.

“Inspiration comes in many forms,” he said.  “Tragedy and heartache have inspired countless melancholy melodies, whereas joy and romance have brought about beautiful music; music that lifts the spirit; music that brings on the desire to love.”

Serena typed out every word, all while keeping her eyes steadily on him.  When his gaze swept across the room and stopped to connect with hers for the briefest moment, she didn’t see the masterful composer who spoke so eloquently about his passion for music, but a man who loved and needed love.  Even with a room full of students between them, she felt his love.

“Some dare say,” he went on, “if you’ve not lived, if you’ve not lost, you cannot compose great music.  True, a life rich with experience, pain and pleasure, gain and loss, love and hate, can beget profound melodies that evoke strong emotions even from the coldest and disinterested listener.  However, this doesn’t preclude you, young and virginal, green and pure, to compose beautiful music.  Everyone has a past, be it filled with sorrow or joy, pride or regret.  Don’t be afraid to dig deep, to go behind doors you may have closed, to re-open old wounds you’d rather forget.  Pour them out onto that blank sheet of paper staring back at you.”

He turned his back on the room and walked to the piano set behind him.  Sitting down, he looked at the room of eager students.  “If you would humor me, please close your eyes, listen, and allow your emotions to take over.”

With one finger, he tapped on a solitary low note for two measures before adding a slow and dramatic melody.

Serena closed her eyes and listened to every note.  She could almost hear his voice calling out to her as his fingers played along the lower register of the piano.  She could almost hear his heart break.

The melody ached, broke and fell apart with devastating heartache.  As the song went on, brooding and dark, she heard a few sniffles, a few whimpers and finally a soft sob.

When Sebastian rested his fingers over the stilled keys of the piano, the room was silent save for the quiet sobs.  Serena opened her eyes and caught Sebastian’s poignant gaze, a gaze filled with the very emotions his composition evoked.  His blue eyes held her, mesmerized as the emotions filled her. 

“Now,” Sebastian said with a clap of his hands.  He cleared his throat and stood before the class.  “Looking at you, I can see there’s plenty of emotion in the room.  What did you feel?”

“Sad,” many students said at once.

“Yes,” Sebastian said.  “I guess there is something rather sad about it.  Anything else?”

“The rhythm was almost plaintive, as if the piano was crying.”

“Some of the combinations of low base notes with the high, sharp ones added something mysterious and enigmatic to the melody.”

“I felt sad, almost morose throughout the song, but in the end, it seemed to hold a faint note of hope.”

Sebastian cocked his brow.  “Interesting.  So we have a sad mystery with a grain of hope.”

“Where did you get the inspiration for such a composition?” a young woman in the front row said.

Wringing his hands together, Sebastian shot a wicked grin around the large room.  He inhaled deeply as he hesitated.  “All I’ll say is, when you find love, true love, hold onto it, because once you let go, it can easily become your greatest regret in life.”

“Are you in love with someone you can’t have?” another girl asked.

He grinned and clucked his tongue.  “I’m happy to see my music touched you all as intended.  Think about what you can bring to your own compositions and I’ll see you all tomorrow.”

Having dismissed the question and the class, Sebastian picked up his notes and jacket as students cleared the room.  With the room almost empty, he walked to the back of the class to Serena.

“You came in late.”

“There was more traffic than I anticipated.” She slipped her laptop into her bag and pulled the strap over her shoulder.  “I’ll make sure I leave home earlier tomorrow.”

“You look lovely today – surprisingly prim and proper.  I’ll admit you're just as alluring buttoned up to the collar as you are in the nude.  There’s something naughty behind that crisp blue shirt that makes me want to tear it off.”

“That wasn’t my intention.  I wanted to show you I’m serious about my music.”

He grinned.  “Speaking of which… I need to see you in my office.  I want to discuss my expectations.  As your advisor, I won’t tolerate tardiness, or laziness.”

“Yes, Sir.”  Serena followed him out of the lecture hall.

His strides were long and forceful as he walked out of the building and into the neighboring one where his office was housed.  On entering the building, she remembered her first encounter with him.  How quickly they’d grown close.  How quickly she’d developed such intense affection for him.

Now, as he pushed the door open to let her into his office, she knew she wouldn’t have the strength to resist him should he touch her.