Jaasiel the gideon broth.., p.1
Jaasiel: The Gideon Brothers, page 1
Jaasiel
THE GIDEON BROTHERS
BOOK 8
J. NELL
Jaasiel
The Gideon Brothers
J. Nell
Published by SalteWorksWrites
All rights reserved.
Copyright © 2023
This book may not be reproduced in whole or in part, by mimeograph or any other means, without the expressed permission of the author or publisher.
PUBLISHER’S NOTE:
This book is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America, and by extension all other territories. Any reproduction or unauthorized use of the material or artwork is prohibited without the expressed written consent of the author. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This story is a work of Fiction. Names, characters, places, events are the products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Cover Design: M A Rehman
Interior Design: SalteWorksWrites
Jaasiel Copyright ©2023 by J.Nell
All rights reserved the characters and events portrayed in this book are Fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Created with Vellum
Contents
Disclaimer
Trigger Warning!
Glossary
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Epilogue
Playlist
Family Tree
About the Author
Also by J. Nell
Disclaimer
This book contains material that is only suitable for mature audiences over the age of 18 years old. Strong language, violence, and explicit sexual content included. Please read the trigger warning before proceeding! Proceed at your own discretion.
Trigger Warning!
This book contains sensitive material including: Sexual Assault, Rape, Violence, Suicidal Tendencies , Self-Harm, Vivid Nightmare Imagery, Childhood Trauma, PTSD, Torture
Glossary
GLOSSARY
Papa – dad
Mama – mom
Tama – son
Tamahine – daughter
Teina – brother
Wahine – wife
Tane – husband
taku e te paruhi - my favorite
taku manawa- my heart
REKA - SWEET
Prologue
Jaasiel
I place the last bit of the beef I broke down in the walk-in freezer and begin to clean up the mess I made. Once that is done, I begin planning out this week’s meals. Cooking is my safe place, and I enjoy doing it and experimenting on my family. Luckily for me, they enjoy being my Guinea pigs, and my family has grown tremendously over the last few years, so I always have someone willing to eat the concoctions. With the family growing as much as it has and the impromptu dinner parties happening almost every week, I buy an entire order of beef and break it down myself. Not only is it cheaper, but I can cut my meat the way I like it. I converted one of my spare bedrooms into a walk-in freezer and refrigerator to be able to handle all of the food I keep on hand.
I started dinner before I began this huge undertaking, so all I have to do is clean up, and then I can enjoy my dinner before I finish the book I’m reading. Now since my cleaning standards are on full-fledged OCD level, it is going to take me a little time to clean my work area. I grab my gloves, disinfectant spray, bags, and hose and get to work. I pretty much save everything possible from the beef. I make tallow out of the fat, broth from the bones and other discarded pieces, and even use some of the bone marrow for my steak dishes.
Once the saws, hooks, and floor are clean, I head to the sink to wash my knives, removable saw tops, and other small surfaces. The water is so hot I can see the steam coming from the sink. I add some bleach and dish detergent and I get to work.
“Hey Kaitoa (Kai toe ah), play No Diggity by Blackstreet,” I tell the A. I. system Jabarri created for our house. The music comes on a few seconds later, and I begin washing the dishes and getting my area back to Board of Health standards. Thirty minutes later and clean-up is done. I write out the menu for the next two weeks, and finally, I heat up my food, grab a glass, cranberry juice, and utensils, and sit down to finally eat.
The fork is halfway to my mouth when I hear Carla calling for me. I am almost too scared to answer her because I know it can't be good if she is looking for me. All of my sisters are borderline crazy, but honestly, we have fostered this behavior in each and every one of them. My brothers spoil their wives, and we all spoil them in our own ways. They know that we won’t say no nine times out of ten. So, if Carla is looking for me, I know she will ask me for something, and I know I will say yes without even knowing what she wants.
“Jaasiel! I know you heard me calling you, why didn’t you answer? Oouu is that a ramen bowl?” she says as she snatches the bowl over to her. I hand her a spoon, and she begins eating. Sighing in defeat, I go to make myself another bowl and have a seat next to her. After a few minutes, she finally takes a breath to talk to me about whatever she hunted me down for.
“I was going to ask you a dumb question, but then I caught myself,” she says.
“I’m curious. What was the question?”
“I was going to ask you if all of this was from scratch, but then I remembered who I was talking to,” she says as she finishes off the bowl.
“Since I know you didn’t come up here hoping to find me here eating, what’s up, sis?”
“Oh right, well, I just got off the phone with a friend of mine, and she was having a bit of an emergency and asked if I knew anyone who could possibly help her out.” She says, looking at me.
“Carla, you are looking at me but haven’t told me anything. You wanna tell me how I am supposed to be helping her out?”
“Oh, shit, I didn’t tell you anything, huh? My friend is throwing a networking dinner party, but the chef quit on her, so now she has no food for the party. So would you be willing to help out?”
“When is the party, Carla?”
“Oh, tonight,” she says, eyeing my bowl of ramen.
“Carla, tonight! How many people?”
“I have no idea. Here’s her number. You can call her,” she says right before she snatches my forgotten bowl and begins eating that one too.
I grab the card in defeat because, as I said earlier, I know I will do this even though I already feel in my gut that I will regret doing this. Pulling my cell phone out, I dial the number on the card and listen to it ring.
“Hello?”
“Hello, Noelani?”
“Yes?”
“My name is Jaasiel; I am Carla’s brother. She said you needed a little help tonight,” I say, cutting my eye over at Carla, who is acting like she isn’t ear hustling.
“Oh my god, yes, and I am desperate! I can pay you whatever your rate is,” she says excitedly over the phone.
“We can discuss rates when I get there. I need to get there so I can see what I am working with,” I tell her heading back to my bedroom so I can change clothes. Noelani continues talking and texts me the address. I change into jeans and a tee shirt and grab my chef coat, knives, and a few other things I know I will need; by the time I return to my kitchen, Carla is already gone. I do not know how I get myself into these things; even though I love cooking, I only love doing it on my terms. And I definitely do not want to work in a restaurant. However, I am opening myself to other avenues to allow me to cook and maintain my freedom. I load everything in my SUV and head to the address to see how big of an undertaking I took on.
One
Jaasiel
This was more work than I anticipated, but luckily, I called in the kitchen staff from Asher’s restaurant after moving a few things around. Once I got here, we got to work, and soon we were running like a well-oiled machine. Luckily the food and everything else was delivered when it was supposed to be, making things much easier. I, of course, tweaked the menu to my liking because the original menu was boring and bland as hell. Noelani said it was supposed to be a small intimate gathering, but I do not consider fifty people small.
“Jaasiel, the food smells fantastic! I cannot wait to taste what you have come up with. I hoped when I called Carla, I would be able to get you to come to cook for me, but I didn’t really expect you actually to come. I hope you brought a suit so you can come ou
t and mingle once everything is up to your standards,” she says without a break between her words. I look down at her with an amused smirk on my lips. She is a beautiful woman, and around five or six years ago, I would have had a very pleasurable time with her, but at this point in my life, I am not interested in a casual relationship. I don’t want a long-term relationship either, but seeing what my brothers have has jaded my perception of what I want in my life. Until I can figure out what I really want, I won’t get involved with anyone. It’s not fair to them that I don’t have my shit straight.
“Just for you to mingle honestly, Mr. Gideon. I know your name is known far and wide, but I just thought it might be nice for people to be able to talk to one of the elusive Gideon eight. But don’t get me wrong, if I for one second thought I had a chance with you, I would one hundred percent take you up on that, but I know when a man is interested and when he is not,” she says matter of factly and I can see how she became friends with Carla. They both tell you how it is straight up with no chaser.
“Yes, I brought a suit with me, and if there is time, I would love to come mingle for a bit,” I tell her now that we have gotten that straight.
She smiles at me, “Great! Well, I won’t keep you, besides I have some last-minute things I need to do before people begin to show up.” With that, she walks off, barking orders at the decorators placing the flowers.
I do a final walk-through making sure everything is ready to go. The tables are set, and I inspect every plate, glass, and piece of silverware, making sure it’s perfect.
“Kate,” I call to the young woman setting the table.
“Yes, Mr. Gideon,” she says slightly breathlessly. She’s cute but definitely jailbait, I have tried to discourage her crush, but I guess it’s something she just has to get out of her system.
“Jaasiel, please. I need you to replace the silverware at table three, place setting five,” I tell her. She is great at her job. She wants to get into culinary arts, but she let Asher know she wanted to learn all aspects of the business, not just the cooking.
She interned at the restaurant through a program at her high school, and she is in her senior year and will be joining my school of cooking this August. I say it’s my cooking school because Asher gave me total control of the school, but I only teach or cook about once or twice a month. I hired some of the best chefs who were tired of the grind of running a kitchen to come cook and teach. I love cooking, but my reasons for cooking are not the same as anyone else I have ever heard of.
A few minutes later, I hear the bell ring, and I head back to the kitchen to get this show on the road. For dinner, I made macaroni and brie with crab, seared scallops and baby spinach with spiced pomegranate glaze, and seared scallops with brown butter and lemon pan sauce. Gado Gado or mixed vegetable salad with Indonesian peanut sauce, baby beet and salmon salad with Dijon, and wilted spinach salad with hot bacon dressing. Pot lamb Haleem, French onion soup, potato leek soup, and watermelon gazpacho. Lamb chops with blackberry chutney, lemon garlic butter lamb chops, grilled balsamic flank steak with chimichurri, blackened chicken, and cilantro lime quinoa, with butternut squash gnocchi with herbed brown butter, cheesy garlic zucchini rice, balsamic roasted potatoes with asparagus. And finally, tortine di riso agli agrume, tiramisu spheres, and Chocolat au Crumble de Fraises. Noelani has a sommelier here to pair the wine with each meal course perfectly. And a regular and non-alcoholic mixologist for anything else the guests may desire; she spared no expense.
It is a full house. The meal went off without a hitch, and the servers took out the last dessert, so now it’s time for the final clean-up. A service will pick up all the dishes to wash and sanitize them; all we have to do is scrape and rinse them. I roll my sleeves up and get to work with everyone else. It’s not much to do since I had a team to scrape and rinse after each course. We stack the dishes, wipe down the kitchen, bag the garbage, and pack up all the leftover food to go to homeless shelters. I wash my chef kit; I don’t trust that to anyone else ever.
The last dish is prepped and packed for pick-up. I paid everyone who came tonight to help with cash. It was a lot of work, and I want to ensure they are adequately compensated for their efforts. One thousand dollars for a day’s work is not a bad deal. After they were all gone, I headed to the bedroom to change out of my chef uniform into my suit. I take a quick shower to wash the food and smell off me, partially dry my hair and leave it down to air dry after I run some Melanique through my hair, lotion, deodorant, and cologne, and finally get dressed. The suit is a beautiful chocolate brown three-piece bespoke suit with a double chain pocket watch, gold lapel pin, and handkerchief, and my chocolate Ferragamo’s and I ready to mingle.
“You clean up very nicely, Mr. Gideon,” Noelani says once I join her in the main room.
“Thank you. I take it the dinner was a success?”
“Of course, it was you who cooked it. I had literally everyone ask me who was tonight’s chef,” she says as she loops her arm through mine and begins to usher me around the room. As we walk around, I notice quite a few men in attendance; some are with the women, and some are there with the men. They scream escorts, and I am instantly curious about the party I cooked for. Basically, it was supposed to be a networking sort of deal, and I can see how that would make sense with the people in attendance. There are CEOs and COOs here, politicians, athletes, and some extremely wealthy members of society too.
Even though they are the same money-wise, they could not be a more eclectic group of people in one room. Noelani parades me around the room like a prize bull, she who managed to get the elusive Jaasiel Gideon to play chef for her party, her words, not mine. There are plenty of chefs out there that are infinitely more talented than me. The hype behind me being constantly asked to cook or have a restaurant of my own is my refusal to do it. People always seem to want what they cannot have.
We walk away from the owner of a ranch that owns some of the most sought-after horses in the world as one of the men walks up to Noelani and whispers something in her ear. She nods as she pulls out her phone and sends what I am assuming is a text to someone before turning back to me with a too-bright smile on her face.
“Something wrong?” I ask.
“Yes, but Parker will be here to handle it, I am sure,” she says as she moves us to the next group of people conversing. She does it so quickly it makes me feel like it was done on purpose to avoid any further conversation about who this Parker person is. But if my guess is right and these men are escorts, Parker must be the guy they belong to. I am curious about the man who runs these men, but I focus back on the conversation around me.
I finally managed to break away from Noelani for a few minutes. It is something about being in a house with seven other brothers that makes you crave time alone. My brothers and I are always all up in each other’s business, and it has always been that way even now that more than half of my brothers are married or in a relationship. As a matter of fact, I think I am the last man standing on that note because that “we’re just friends” bullshit Aryan and Brooklyn keep trying to convince us of isn’t convincing at all. And Jabarri is in a relationship with Natalie and seems content with it, so yeah, I am the only single Gideon man over the age of twelve. Leaning against the rail of the Juliet balcony off from the living room, a flash of white catches my attention, beckoning me to turn and follow it. When I do, my eyes are happy that I do.
Who is that? As I watch this vision glide across the floor in a head-to-foot white suit, I am immediately mesmerized. White wide-leg dress pants, white jacket with no shirt or hell, not even a bra on, a wide-brim white fedora, her hair hanging down her back to an ass so fat she could bless every woman in this room and still have more than enough left over, and white high heel Red Bottom sandals. She is a vision. She looks like a bronzed goddess, the hat hides a lot of her face, but those thick lips can’t be hidden, and my eyes refuse to stop looking at her. Savvy has completely corrupted me with her love of Michael Jackson, and I can hear The Way You Make Me Feel playing in my head in stereo, and my feet are in motion before my mind can comprehend that we are moving. My angel makes a beeline to Noelani, and just as I am in ear range, I hear Noelani call her Parker.
