Incubus Chocolatier PG-13 Version Page 4

  Chapter 3: Impishly Sweet

  Michael willed himself to become invisible and summoned his wings. After that he took off into the night sky and flew after the mysterious wedding crasher girl who’d gotten the bouquet, and who had Tristan reacting differently than any girl before her had. The chocolatier’s reaction to the girl had been quite intriguing.

  Michael had never seen Tristan react that way to a girl before - as if she were special - as if the rest of the world had disappeared while in her mere presence.

  The Archangel decided that she could be Tristan’s hope for salvation. Michael needed Tristan to stop being a womanizer and philanderer, and start being with just one woman in order to save his soul. This was his new assignment from God.

  Michael already understood that the woman would have to be special. And the wedding crasher seemed to be special to Tristan. It was almost too good to be true.

  She could be Tristan’s only hope. I need to find out more about her like…just who is she? And would she be interested in going out with Tristan? Michael soared after the girl until she parked her bike outside of an apartment building and chained it to a bike rack. He waited for the young woman to enter the building, take the elevator up to her floor, and enter her apartment. Michael could sense her presence within the building and flew up to land on the balcony of her apartment.

  The Archangel was just about to enter her apartment when he noticed something a little odd. The balcony directly next to hers looked oddly familiar. In fact, Michael had watered the potted plants there before. This meant that balcony belonged to Tristan Savant. This girl had chosen to live in an apartment that was directly next to Dark Heaven and that had a balcony that was directly next to Tristan’s. Coincidence? I think not. Michael slid the glass balcony door open and stepped inside of the girl’s bedroom. It was dark inside and so he walked over to flip on a light switch, illuminating the room.

  The bedroom appeared to be that of a normal young woman. There was a cherry, Queen-sized, pineapple poster bed with a fluffy, off-white comforter that had the pattern of red roses and twisting green vines on it. The pillows that were on the bed had ruffles. There was also a cute pillow that was shaped like Hello Kitty’s head. There were two matching night tables beside the bed with lamps that had frilly lampshades. A shelf that had been mounted to the wall had an assortment of porcelain dolls on it that were dressed in frilly hats, bonnets, gloves, and lacy dresses. The dolls stared back at Michael with their glass eyes in a creepy manner. Flowered wallpaper was on the walls and a faux painted Persian rug was on the floor. The overall innocence of the room made Michael question the girl’s age.

  The bookshelf was filled with baking recipe books. Apparently, she likes to bake. Michael mused happily. She had a dressing table that was piled high with an assortment of things - lots of makeup, multiple contact lens cases that contained different colored contact lenses, and several Styrofoam wig displays that had wigs on them that were all different colors - orange, brown, purple, black, pink and even blue.

  O-kay. She was either a super spy or liked to play dress up. What were humans that dressed up as fictional characters called again? Michael mused as he rubbed the stubble on his chin. Cosplayers. So…she’s a cosplayer. That’s not so bad. There are human females that are into even stranger things than dressing up.

  Michael was just beginning to think the girl was pretty normal - until he turned to face the other wall of her bedroom. “No human words can describe…this.” One of the girl’s bedroom walls was completely covered in photographs of Tristan Savant. The photos had obviously been taken without Tristan’s knowledge since he was never looking directly at the camera.

  There was one large blown-up photo of Tristan that was the size of a poster where he was grinning from ear-to-ear and covered in chocolate. He looked tired and yet pleased in the photo - like he’d just accomplished something amazing. The large photo was surrounded by a bunch of smaller photographs. The smaller photographs been glued to red paper hearts or doilies before being attached to the wall. This gave an entirely new meaning to ‘posting photos on your wall’.

  The fact that the girl had taken the pictures of Tristan without his knowledge made Michael’s blood run cold. Words like: psycho, freak, lunatic, and weirdo ran around in circles inside of Michael’s head.

  And one word in particular seemed to stick in Michael’s mind: Stalker. No…it can’t be. The wedding crasher…is Tristan’s stalker? No, no, no. Michael didn’t want to believe that the wedding crasher and this stalker freak were the same person. His hopes for this girl being ‘the one’ were crumbling to pieces.

  Michael left the bedroom, made his way down the hall, and entered the living room where he found the girl. Even though Michael thought that things couldn’t possibly get any weirder - they did.

  The young woman was standing in front of an open wooden cabinet that had obviously been converted into some kind of shrine to Tristan Savant. The shelves contained framed photographs of Tristan and a series of odd items - a ratty baseball cap, a worn-out spatula, a stinky tennis shoe, an old tie, a ruined chocolatier jacket, and a threadbare neckerchief. The items looked like things that Tristan had probably decided to throw away, but that had been found in the trash by this stalker girl. This…is quite disturbing. And was that a piece of used chewing gum stuck to the cabinet door? Michael shuddered. To be this obsessed with Tristan was just…wrong. I’m so glad I was created as a man and so am immune to Tristan’s charms.

  The stalker was currently laughing happily...and in a totally creepy manner. “Hee hee hee hee…” She triumphantly placed the wedding bouquet on one of the shelves as carefully as possible. “There, it’s the perfect addition. Tristan will marry me, teehee.”

  Yep, she’s delusional. Someone ought to get this poor girl committed. But then the girl abruptly stopped laughing and smiling, and her look turned pensive, almost sad, as she reached her hand out to touch Tristan’s photo. “Tristan…I hope you’re okay. And I hope those supermodels give you what you need. You’ve been looking pale lately. You need to feed, darling.”

  Michael’s sharp golden-brown eyes narrowed at the stalker girl then. Wait a minute, does this girl know that Tristan is an incubus? Just who the hell is she? Is she truly human? She could be Tristan’s only hope. I have to find out more about her. The Archangel decided to reveal himself to the girl and see what her reaction would be. “Ahem,” Michael cleared his throat.

  The girl flinched at the sound, her eyes widened, and she spun around to face Michael. “Michael…?” The girl’s eyes widened even more when she noticed the white feathery wings spread behind Michael’s back. “Or not…? Whoa, wait a second, are you a demon too?”

  “Too? You’re a demon?” Michael’s brow furrowed in confusion.

  Issy laughed uproariously at that. “Who? Me? No way! Are you crazy?” She gave Michael a pitying look that rankled him. “I mean, are you a demon like your friend Tristan. He’s a demon, isn’t he? Like an incubus or something.”

  Michael nodded once. “He’s a half-demon actually. Half-incubus.”

  “Ha! I knew it! I knew he was a supernatural being!” The stalker girl did some kind of goofy victory dance. “And are you an incubus too?”

  Michael let out a snort. “I am most certainly not a lowly demon! I am a noble Archangel!” He straightened his back and puffed out his chest proudly. “I am a warrior for the One True God!”

  Issy frowned. “An angel…an angel would break into a young girl’s apartment like a criminal? What if I had been naked? What if I had been in the shower, huh? Would you still have come in here? I think you would have. Oh my God…you’re a pervert aren’t you? A perverted, Peeping Tom angel!” The girl pointed her trembling finger at Michael accusingly.

  Michael appeared aghast by this outlandish accusation. “What? No! I’m not a pervert nor am I a criminal. I’m here because I’m Tristan’s guardian angel and you - you’ve been stalking him haven’t you?�
�� He gave Issy an incriminating look in return.

  Issy’s expression turned skeptical and she raised an eyebrow at him. “You’re Tristan’s guardian angel? Liar. I don’t believe you. If that’s true then where were you when that fan girl had Tristan locked up in her basement, huh? I had to free him! Where were you when Tristan’s girlfriend apparently killed herself? Where were you when he tried to jump off the Brooklyn Bridge? He gets suicidal on the anniversary of his girlfriend’s death. Did you even know about that?”

  Michael stumbled backwards a step, thrown by the girl’s revelations. “Tristan’s girlfriend committed suicide?”

  “He didn’t tell you? I believe it happened when Tristan was still in college. Tristan was going out with her and they even got engaged, but then…she killed herself. I don’t know why, but her name was Hazel Nuttingham. I’ve seen Tristan at her grave and overheard him talking to himself about her. He blames himself for her death. That’s why he refuses to fall in love again. It’s also why he only does one-night stands.” Issy’s eyes began to glisten as she thought of Tristan’s sad story.

  “So that’s why…” Michael scrubbed a hand down his face. “I didn’t know.”

  Issy rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand. “And where were you last Valentine’s Day when Tristan passed out on the floor due to overwork? Just last night Tristan passed out again because he was trying to make his friends their wedding cake. He hit his head pretty hard on that floor, you know. I had to bandage him up. And I had to make the wedding cake for him. Who’s always been there for Tristan when he needed someone - me. I’m Tristan’s real guardian angel, bucko.” Issy put her hands on her hips and gave Michael a superior look.

  Michael sputtered with indignation. “You consider yourself to be his guardian angel? You can’t be serious. You’re just a perverted stalker.”

  “Well, this perverted stalker, knows more about Tristan than you apparently. By the way, you seriously need to stop getting in Tristan’s way. He needs to have sex in order to survive, you know.” She chided Michael in a stern voice as wagged her finger at him.

  Michael couldn’t believe that he was getting nagged by Tristan’s stalker. “Of course I know about that! But…you’re the one who doesn’t understand. His soul is in danger. He needs to stop philandering and settle down with one woman!”

  Issy looked at Michael as if he’d grown two heads. “There’s no way that will happen.”

  “And why not?” Michael let out a frustrated huff. “What if Tristan fell in love with you, for example? It’s possible…as long as we kept the whole crazy stalker thing a secret from him, I think he’d actually give you a chance. You could become his female.”

  Issy sucked in a breath. “Me?” She shook her head. “I’m not…I’m just…I’m not Hazel. He still loves her, you know. And…I could never compete with her memory.”

  “But you’re special.” The angel argued.

  Issy let out a little sigh. “You’re wrong Michael, I’m not special. I’m just…me…and I’m no one.” Everyone leaves me.

  “You’re wrong. You are special, at least to Tristan. I’ve never seen him act the way he did earlier at the wedding reception. He treated you differently than he has any other girl…as if you were dear to him. He acted like he knew you from somewhere too.” Michael gave her a scrutinizing look, still not fully convinced that the girl was fully human.

  “He doesn’t know me.” Issy said even as she thought of that moment in the pouring rain when she’d first met Tristan.

  “You have a chance to win his heart. You’re attractive…for a human female.” Michael complimented, as he looked her over critically.

  Issy rolled her eyes. “Who says I want to win his heart?”

  “Come now, I wasn’t born yesterday. I’m thousands of years old.” Michael waved his hand at the Tristan Shrine causing Issy’s cheeks to heat up. “That’s obviously some kind of shrine to him. You’re in love with him.”

  Issy flinched. Bull’s eye. “Yes, I’m in love with him, but that doesn’t mean I want him to fall in love with me, Father Time. Love doesn’t last, Michael. I may get him for one night, but then he’d forget about me the next day. I’m happy to gaze upon him from afar…and watch over him. Like his secret guardian angel.” I couldn’t handle someone walking away from me again. I won’t have my heart broken again.

  Michael processed the girl’s words. Perhaps he’d been too quick to judge her. She wasn’t a psycho, per say. She was just a lonely, jaded young woman. Now, more than ever, Michael had the feeling that she could be the one to save Tristan’s soul. “But you’re not an angel…you’re human. You could be with him if you really wanted to.” There was a tinge of bitterness to his voice as he thought about Joan. “There’s no need for you to watch from the shadows…like I did. Look, you could get a job at Dark Heaven. Tristan and I were discussing hiring a patissiere to work with us. You like to bake, right? You made Joan and Dante’s wedding cake. It was impressive and extremely delicious. I’ll admit I had a second helping. And while I was eating it I was reminded of the moment when I first laid eyes on Joan. You have a rare, unique talent. You can truly imbue your baked goods with your feelings. Why don’t you come in for a job interview at the very least?”

  Issy blinked. “Work at Dark Heaven as a patissiere?” Issy couldn’t stop her heart from beating a little faster at the thought. “To be by Tristan’s side…I couldn’t…I can’t.” Women are just conquests to him. Well, except for little girls. She shook her head.

  “You can.” Michael reached out and put his hand on her shoulder. “Please consider it. Just…bring your resume and come in for an interview.” The angel insisted. If I can convince this girl and Tristan to date…he could be saved.

  Issy took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I…I’ll consider it. I make no promises though.”

  Michael nodded. “That’s good enough for me. Well, I better get back to the party.”

  Issy hid a smile behind her hand. “Uh huh.” She knew that Michael was only going back to that party in order to keep an eye on Tristan, but the chocolatier probably wasn’t at the party anymore. He was most likely somewhere with those supermodels getting laid.

  “Farewell.” Michael turned to go but then turned back around. “Oh, forgive me, I forgot to ask you your name, Miss.”

  “It’s Isolde Sweet, but everyone just calls me ‘Issy’.”

  Isolde Sweet. Tristan and…Isolde. Perhaps that’s a sign. “Farewell, Issy.”

  “Goodnight, Michael.” And good luck finding Tristan. You’re going to need it.