Page 37 of Minions and Magic
“Shelby!” The diminutive werewolf sprang forward to grab the lone wolf in a hug. “Damn, I’ve missed you girl! Is Alberta treating you right?” Tink waved a finger at the troll and smiled. “You know I’ve got your back if she’s not being a proper mate to you, Shelby.”
Linking her arms with the other werewolf and the troll, Tink paused just a moment for Clinton to greet the two, then proceeded to drag them both over to the buffet. The entire time she loudly exclaimed about how adorable both their outfits were and demanded to know what nail polish Alberta had on.
“Don’t got nail polish on,” the troll replied, looking rather stunned at the entire turn of events. Her aura had faded into a pleasant lavender and peach hue, so I rolled my neck once more and turned to check the smoker, confident that Tink had everything well in hand.
The new batch of grilled salmon to replace the nearly empty chafing dishes was coming along nicely, and the fifth round of pork loin was ready to coat with my special vinegar-based sauce. The brisket, my pièce de résistance, was nearly done. I’d marinated. I’d dry rubbed. I’d smoked. This baby was gonna be amazing, and it was going to beat the pants of Xavier’s or I wasn’t a witch with an incredible talent in the kitchen.
Mmmm. Xavier without pants. The very idea made my legs weak. Would we jump right back into bed tonight, picking up where we’d left off after I’d had my freak-out, or would we take it slow and actually court and woo each other for a while? I hoped for the former, because I was a witch with very little patience, and now that I’d decided to trust him, my heart was racing forward at the speed of sound.
I filled a metal chafing dish with the grilled salmon and headed to refill the buffet line just as Tink, Alberta, and Shelby started to fill their plates.
“Hi Glenda!” Shelby’s voice was high and nervous, the whites of her eyes showing clear around the dark brown irises. “How did those spices and herbs work out? It was good to see you last week. You need to come over more often for tea, or whisky, or a rare steak.”
Her aura flared with anxiety, and I wanted to give her a hug. Shelby was a bad-ass werewolf who could take on just about anyone in her former pack and come out on top, but she was clearly uneasy about her place now that she was a lone wolf who’d left the pack to mate with a troll.
“I’d love to come by for tea and a rare steak sometime,” I told her. “The gnome party didn’t work out all that well, but I’m sure the herbs and spices you both supplied were amazing as always. A new assistant of mine accidently put some coriander into the slug marinade and gnomes don’t do well with coriander.”
Alberta recoiled, her eyes wide. “Coriander?”
I nodded and gave her an apologetic smile. “I know. I must have had a jar on the counter next to your herbs and spices, and my assistant didn’t know not to include it. I’ll just need to be more careful in the future and make sure my instructions are very detailed.”
“Shit. Shit!” Alberta turned to Shelby and said something rapidly in fae. Shelby replied and I found myself wondering when the werewolf had learned the troll’s language.
Shelby paled. “Oh no! Glenda, I am so sorry! This is all my fault. What can I do to make things right? It’s all my fault.”
I shook my head. “What are you talking about?”
“She gave you the wrong bag of herbs and spices,” Alberta said. “You were supposed to get the other bag, and the centaurs were supposed to get the one you received. I would never have included coriander in an herbal mixture that was intended for gnome food. I know better than that.”
“It was all my fault.” Tears sparkled in Shelby’s eyes. “I didn’t know anything of herbs or spices before I moved in with Alberta. Werewolves aren’t sensitive to anything beyond wolf’s bane and a few other herbs, so I didn’t even notice. I’ve got no idea what makes gnomes sick or makes merfolk sick or makes fae sick beyond what Alberta gets green over. I’m so sorry.”
I reached over the buffet trays to grab her hands. “It’s not your fault. You didn’t know. Honestly it’s my fault for not checking the herbs and spices before I used them. I got distracted by…something. And I was hurrying, and using an assistant who wouldn’t know the difference. It’s completely my fault, not yours.”
“I need to label my deliveries better,” Alberta said. “And I need to spend more time showing Shelby what’s what. I’ll talk to the gnomes and explain what happened. I don’t want you to take the blame for this one, Glenda.”
I’d blamed Xavier for this when the packet of herbs and spices he’d used had been the wrong one. It was completely my fault for not checking it. I’d been busy, distracted by what had happened to Stanley, really distracted by my attraction to Xavier, and I’d not taken proper care to check what I was adding to the slug sauce.
“No, I’m the one who prepared the dish. I’m the one that didn’t check the spice mixture. It’s my fault, not yours.” I smiled at the troll, then at the werewolf. “It’s okay. I can see how such a mistake would happen. Coriander is a common spice, and I can’t imagine that Shelby would know such a thing would be harmful to gnomes.”
“I’ll learn more,” the werewolf vowed. “And I’ll make sure I pay more attention to Alberta’s instructions in the future.”
“And I’ll make sure I label the bags,” Alberta added. “If I can do anything in the future to make this up to you, please let me know. I’m so embarrassed that you got the wrong delivery, and I swear this won’t ever happen again.”
“No worries, Alberta. Mistakes happen, and I’m not going to hold you responsible for this. I know how much pride you take in your gardening.” I heaped a huge helping of grilled salmon onto Shelby’s plate, knowing how much the werewolf loved fish, then left the buffet line to return to my smoker.
It hadn’t been Xavier’s fault at all. Not only had I blamed him for intentionally tampering with the food, but even after our conversation today I’d assumed his unintentional mistake had led to the coriander in the slugs. Come to find out the problem had been in the spice bag I’d gotten from Alberta.
I was such a fool. I’d thrown away a potentially amazing relationship because I’d jumped to conclusions, because I’d let my past baggage weigh heavy on my mind. I owed Xavier an additional apology, and I needed to stop my knee-jerk reactions and actually trust my emotions for once in my freaking life.
I added more pork to the chafing dish, then checked again on the brisket, tearing off a sliver to taste. It was the best I’d ever made. The flavors made my eyes roll back in my head and brought me to the edge of a food orgasm. If Xavier’s was better than this, then he was truly my master.
That thought led me down all sorts of naughty pathways. What if he won? What sort of thing would he ask of me? I wasn’t worried any more about him demanding my soul, instead I was titillated thinking of kinky stuff he might ask as his reward.
But he’d never win. My brisket was damned good, and although pride might be my sin, I knew good food when I tasted it.
“Stanley’s here.” Adrienne appeared beside me and snuck a quick grab of brisket. The vulture behind her protested, and she grabbed another piece to toss to him. “Drake likes his meat raw and about two days fermenting in the sun, but he says yours is a close second.”
Great. My cooking was a close second to roadkill in the opinion of a vulture. “I don’t see Stanley,” I said, looking over toward the entrance.
