Read Love & Curses (Cursed Ink) for Free Online Page B

anyway. They always do.
    Closing her eyes, she committed to memory the intimate feel of the man next to her. The hardness of his body against hers. The alluring scent of his aftershave. The way his mouth had felt on hers.
    She dreamed of what it might be like to sleep in his arms every night. The lifetime of memories they could create. The happiness they would share, and his promise to never leave her.
    Rolling onto her side, she reached for him. But cool sheets met her hand.
    “Andy?” She opened her eyes to somber morning light streaming across the bed, and her chest tightened.
    Gone.
    Aunt Nadya had been right about one thing. She was cursed. At love.
    Grabbing her robe from the floor, she swathed her body in the thick terry and dragged herself to the bathroom. She splashed cold water on her face, taking perverse satisfaction at the icy sting to her skin. Straightening, she glimpsed her reflection in the mirror.
    “You were an idiot to believe. To hope.” She shook her head, hardening her heart in resolution. “Well, no more. You’re done.”
    She spun on her heel and headed to the kitchen. God, she needed some coffee—with a decent splash of brandy. Flipping on the light, she set about filling the maker with a filter and fresh dark roast ground coffee. She turned to get a mug from the cabinet and spotted the folded paper on the counter next to the phone.
    Hope sprang to life in her chest, but Calista gritted her teeth and squashed the giddy sensation. Squaring her shoulders, she eyed the simple, white note. It’s a Dear Jane letter. Not a declaration of undying love.
    She reached for it, held it in her fingers while longing and doubt grappled for control of her emotions. How many times had she stood in a similar situation, waiting for some type of confirmation of her worth as a person, that she did indeed deserve to be loved? Steeling her nerves, she opened the note.
     
    Calista-
    Restaurant called. Had to go in. We’ll talk later.
    Andy
     
    She sucked in a deep breath. His message had been short and to the point—like ripping off an adhesive bandage strip. Just as she’d expected. Dropping the paper on the counter, she turned to get a mug from the cabinet.
    Whatever.
     
    ***
     
    Andy strode from the walk-in cooler, his arms laden with catfish, shrimp, and lobster, which had been steamed an hour earlier. With all the chaos, he hadn’t realized the dinner crowd would be arriving in less than an hour until Rosella had alerted him. Why his head chef had decided to go all diva on everyone, Andy had no clue—and neither did anyone else at the restaurant.
    When he’d arrived at six that morning, his Sous Chef met him at the door. “It was like the dude just snapped,” Rosella told him. She’d waved her hand toward the kitchen. “Set the place on fire and just hauled ass. Jimmy helped me put the flames out, and then I called you.”
    Andy had walked into a smoky kitchen, the exhaust fans doing little to diminish the haze. The grill had been charred. Dishes had towered head high in the sink. Bits of burned food had lain strewn along the prep counter. Everything had been covered in soot and muck.
    His gut had roiled at all the damage. He’d just hired Antoine two weeks earlier, his resume and references impeccable. But holy shit, it had looked as though the guy had doused everything with cooking oil and lit a match. It’d taken the entire staff two hours of serious scrubbing to get the kitchen in working order again, and they barely finished before the breakfast crowd had arrived.
    Andy glanced at his watch again. The day had passed in a blur of cleaning, cooking, and serving. Damn, he was exhausted, but without a head chef, they were shorthanded. He had no choice but to stay and ensure the rest of the evening ran smoothly.
    “What’s on the menu, boss?” Rosella grabbed several bowls from the shelf and joined him at the counter.
    “The specials are Lobster Creole, Blackened Catfish, and Shrimp with