Page 3 of Jaasiel

“Oh, so you don’t know him?”

“Well, he’s been my brother for most of my life, so maybe I have,” he says with more than a little amusement.

“Oh wow, okay, the article said he had seven brothers. Are all of you this big?”

“Yes,” he answers short and sweet. I open my mouth to say more when I see the reason why I came here in the first place.

“Well, Jaasiel, I enjoyed meeting with you, but I have a bit of business to handle before I slip out, so if you’d excuse me,” he nods as I take a few steps away before pausing to turn back to him. “Do you have a phone?” I ask him, and he pulls his phone out in answer. I open the app on my phone and tap it on his, “that’s my virtual business card, just in case. Noelani, as soon as I am done handling this business, I am going to head out. It was a pleasure,” I say as I walk away.

Jaasiel

She is even more extraordinary up close, and I instantly know I am in trouble. I can remember hearing all my brothers say they were goners from the start, especially Josh. He had a ninety-second interaction with Savvy and fell in love…hard. My eyes track her until she goes out of my line of vision. I lift my phone to see the virtual business card she shared with me, and I know without any doubt that I will be reaching out to Parker Amani King.

“Shall we,” Noelani asks me, and she once again loops her arm through mine, and I fight the irritation that rises up in me from her touching me and the urge to shake her hand off of me. I plaster on a smile before I look at her, “Sure.” We make our final rounds, but I never got the chance to see Parker again. Heading to my SUV, I bid goodnight to Noelani and head home.

I think Carla has a camera set up somewhere in my house because she always seems to find her way to my kitchen when I cook. I am just plating the last of the bacon on the plate when she strides into the kitchen.

“How was the dinner party last night?” Carla asks as she once again steals my food.

“I cooked breakfast downstairs in the main kitchen, you know,” I tell her as she chews on the bacon she stole.

“Yeah, I know, but for some reason, the food you cook up here tastes better. And don’t try to avoid the question, Jaasiel. How did things go last night?”

“They went fine but further solidified my not wanting to cook for a living. I love the cooking portion and the peace it brings me, but it’s the other shit I can live without. I felt like I was on display once I came out to mingle. Like a prize she wanted to flaunt, and it made my ass itch,” I say, then grab some napkins to wipe up the orange juice Carla spit out.

“I’m sorry,” she says, dabbing at her mouth, “but I wasn’t expecting that. You have to warn people before you say stuff like that. The food you cook is amazing, and then you have the nerve to look like you do while you are cooking, so I can see why people would want to treat you like a prize.” She tells me.

“Dove, don’t get my brother fucked up talking about how he looks,” Asher declares as he walks into my kitchen, holding their youngest son in his arms.

“You’re delusional, and eww, Carla is my sister; that’s disgusting. But you can come get her so I can eat my breakfast in peace,”

“You don’t mean that. You love sharing your breakfast with me, and that’s why you make so much,” she uses another piece of my bacon to point to the rest of the food warming on the stove.

“I make that food because I am six feet six inches tall and weigh three hundred and fifteen-ish pounds…I need a lot of food to keep this body in peak working condition.

“Please,” Asher spits out. “Come on, Dove. We have to get the babies ready to go; your father is on his way to pick them up for his biweekly visitation.”

“Fine,” she says, plucking her son from Asher’s arms. “But we are not done with this conversation!” she shoots my way as she is pushed out of the room by her husband. Once they are done, all I can do is shake my head at Carla. I have to learn to say no to my sisters; they constantly keep me in trouble.

“Kaitoa (Kai toe ah),” I say, waiting for the chime that lets me know it’s ready for my command. “What is my schedule?” I listen as it rattles off what I have to prepare for, for the upcoming week. We have pretty much retired from the construction business and have branched off to do other things we have wanted to do finally. Personally, I think it is due to my brothers’ finding wives, but whatever the reason, it was time for new things. I have enjoyed helping Asher with his industrial park, at least the restaurant and school portion of it. It feeds my need to cook without it being a chore. With that being said, my schedule is full for this week.

The week is almost over, and I have one more class to cook for tonight, and it is completely sold out. That is not an unusual occurrence, it is more often than not sold-out months in advance, but the strange this about this time is that this class was not a part of the usual lineup. I was able to get my hands on some Kobe beef A5 Wagyu Tomahawk which is also the highest quality of beef. Only a specific type of cattle from a certain region of Japan produces this cut of beef, and I wanted to use a portion of it in a class. The spots were limited, and the cost of the class was almost triple the normal class seeing that the beef costs more than a thousand dollars for thirty ounces, and it was sold out in mere minutes. I had enough for twelve spots making the beef alone four thousand dollars, not including the sides, drinks, and dessert. All in all, I look to clear close to ten thousand dollars for one class.

Everything is set, including the video equipment I am using to record tonight’s class. I will use tonight to teach future courses. I have the top three students in this year’s class with me tonight to help me cook and to assess their skills as their final exam. However, they do not know that. I do not want to scare them, and I want them to cook in their own comfort zone. Praise, Quin, and Adrian continue to set up their stations. “Are you guys all set?”

“Yes, Chef!” they respond in unison, immediately standing at attention.

“Good, our guests should be arriving shortly; remember, if you make a mistake, let me know immediately. These steaks are $300.00 each, so there is no room for mistakes. Understood?”

“Yes Chef!”

“Good,” I nod in approval.

We only start cooking or even preparing until the guests have arrived to cut down on wasting food in case someone doesn’t show for whatever reason; also, it shows the guests how to cook the meal from beginning to end. I hear the chime on the door, and shortly after that, I hear Monika talking to a new arrival; when the unknown guest rounds the corner, I am taken aback by who walks into the studio. Parker.

“Jaasiel Gideon,” she practically purs.

“Parker,” I reply. “I am surprised to see you here.”

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