by Ashlyn Chase
“It’s okay. I knew it would be like this before they left. I had to assure them about a billion times that I would be perfectly all right. Even if I did find a way to get in contact, my mother would assume something was wrong, and she’d insist they come home. Then my dad would disown me for jeopardizing his multimillion-dollar deal.”
“He would not.”
“I wouldn’t put it past him. He’s a driven, type A kind of guy. If something gets in his way, he steamrolls right over it.”
“Well, then my parents would just have to adopt you.”
She laughed. “Are you sure about that? Wouldn’t that make us brother and sister?”
“Oh yeah. Ewww.”
“Not only that, but don’t they have enough kids already?” As they were walking up the steps to the Fierros’ brownstone, she hoped Dante’s parents didn’t hold what happened at the gallery against her. Dante assured her his mother would be delighted to see her again.
She had only taken a couple of steps inside when Gabriella hurried to the door and gave them each a tight hug.
“Come in, come in.” Gabriella grabbed Mallory’s hand and pulled her toward the kitchen. She glanced over her shoulder at Dante, who just grinned, following behind with his hands in his pockets.
Gabriella seemed anxious to see them. But why? Maybe she wanted to talk her out of seeing her son. No, Mallory. Stop talking to yourself that way! She had been trying to catch her inner negative Nellie whenever she showed up uninvited.
“I’m so excited to see you,” Gabriella said.
“Why?” Mallory asked.
Gabriella’s brows tented. “Why? Because I want to get to know you better. I’m happy that you’re in my son’s life. You seem to make him happy.”
She glanced at her boyfriend, who was rolling his eyes. “Dante’s always happy.”
“It would seem that way, because he has been ever since he met you.”
Mallory worried her lip. “I didn’t think you’d want him to see me anymore, especially not after the whole, you know…gallery thing.”
Gabriella smiled. “Oh, honey. I’m so sorry that happened to you, but it’s not a big deal. Not around here. I mean, who doesn’t freak out and turn into a monkey once in a while?” She gave her a sly grin, and the three of them laughed.
“Dante, you never told me your mother was so funny.”
Dante shrugged. “She has her moments.”
“I was just about to make my husband’s favorite bread. Would you like to help me?” Gabriella asked.
“Sure!” At that moment, Mallory’s phone rang. “Give me a second.” She walked off toward the back of the house and wound up in a laundry and mudroom while Dante stayed in the kitchen with his mother.
“Mallory?”
It sounded like the gallery owner’s voice. “Yes?”
“It’s Helen. I have some interesting news for you.”
“Oh, hi, Helen. It’s nice to talk to you again.” She could fake confidence over the phone much better than in person. “News? What news?”
“Yes. Apparently, someone at the show liked what he saw and wanted to get in touch with you.”
“Really? What was his name?”
“Maurice Winston. Do you remember speaking with him?”
“Um, no?”
“He’s a textile designer. He liked the color and movement and how you evoked emotion in your work. He was inspired and thought the patterns would be unique and beautiful in clothing. I have to say I agree with him.”
“You mean he wants to print my paintings on rolls of fabric? Then sell the fabric to make dresses, that sort of thing?”
“Exactly. Well, it’s done on computers these days. I was picturing it in my mind, and I think it’s a great idea. I’d love a dress made with one of your paintings as the fabric.”
“Wow. I had never thought of using them that way. I’ll gladly make sure you get one, especially since you were so nice to me, considering…”
“Oh, don’t worry about that. I’m just happy to help. I think it might be a good job for you. You can probably even work from home if you’d like. I’ll send you his office phone number along with your check, and you can get in touch.”
“Fantastic! Honestly, I can’t thank you enough. The money will definitely help.”
“Great. I hope one of you will call and tell me how things are working out.”
“Thanks, Helen. I’ll do that. By the way, how is your friend? The one who told you about me?”
“Ah, yes. She’s just fine. Seeing Mike’s face was a shock, but after her initial reaction, she was happy to have another picture of her beloved husband.”
“Have? You mean she bought it?”
“Yes. That’s only one of several paintings you sold.”
“Please refund her money. I’d like to give it to her as a gift.”
Helen chuckled. “You won’t make a living that way. Seriously. As a professional, you have to learn to place value on your art. They’re paying for your time, your talent, your supplies, everything. Could they own that piece without all you did?”
“I guess not.”
“That’s right. She knows that. She paid for it because she wanted your interpretation of the subject matter. No one forced her to buy it.”
“Maybe she just didn’t want anyone else to have it.”
“You’ll never know why anyone buys or doesn’t buy your work. And to be honest, that’s none of your business. Your job is to provide it. That’s all.”
They said goodbye, and Mallory tucked her phone back into her purse. She rejoined the other two people in the kitchen. Dante was sitting at a stool, sifting flour into a bowl.
“Guess what?” she said brightly.
“What?” Dante asked without looking up. He wore a lopsided smile, as if he knew exactly what was up.
“I may have a job designing fabric!”
He set the sifter down and caught her in his arms, giving her a strong, reassuring hug. “I knew it! I knew that gallery show was just the start.”
She tipped her head and studied him. “How did you know?”
“That someone would snap you up if they saw your work? I didn’t know for a fact, but I believed it would happen. I believe in you.”
After sharing a quick kiss, he whispered, “The question is, do you believe in yourself yet?”
She smiled, realizing that she did. “I could do it.”
“Do you want to?”
“Of course I want to. I think it sounds like fun. And how exciting would it be to see my paintings on someone’s dress or purse or shoes?”
“Or butt,” said Antonio as he entered the kitchen from the man cave downstairs.
Mallory giggled.
“Hey, Dad. I didn’t know you were home.” Dante rounded the counter and gave his dad a hug and a slap on the back.
“Oh, I’m here pretty much all the time.”
“I thought you still went down to the station, just to hang out and shoot the breeze with the guys.”
“Yeah, well, most of my contemporaries have retired. I don’t know the new guys very well.”
“Don’t you have a son in almost every fire station?” Mallory asked.
Antonio chuckled. “You have a live one, Son. You know I like to tease, and when someone can dish it back, I like it even better.” He winked at her. “Congratulations, by the way.”
“So you heard the whole conversation?” Mallory asked.
“Yes. Probably the only one who didn’t was Gabriella. She’s completely human, but we won’t hold that against her.”
“Gee, thanks.” Gabriella sidled up next to him and slipped her arm around his waist, giving him a squeeze. He kissed the top of her head.
“How does that work?” Mallory asked.
Gabriella gave
her husband another side squeeze.
“If you’re the only human among a whole family of shape-shifters, it must be kind of strange,” Mallory prompted.
“I’ve had a few years to get used to it.”
“Mallory? I…uh…I was hoping to talk to my dad for a few minutes,” Dante said.
She nodded, then bit her lip. He hadn’t said anything about talking to his father before now. Had he avoided telling her so she wouldn’t ask why? Stop it, Mallory. It’s not always about you.
“Why don’t you take over for Dante, so he and his dad can talk downstairs? I have some stories I can tell you.” Gabriella smiled evilly at her son.
“Oh no, you don’t. At least don’t take out the baby pictures, Mom.”
“Only the one of three boys in the bathtub.”
“No, not that one!”
“Rub-a-dub-dub,” Antonio said and winked. Then the men disappeared downstairs.
* * *
“So, what did you want to talk to me about, Son?”
Dante leaned forward and clasped his hands. “I don’t want you to get the wrong idea. I’m not asking your permission as head of the family. I just want your wisdom. Okay? I’m thinking of moving in with Mallory.”
His father leaned back on the couch and studied him for a moment. “Haven’t you only known her for a little while?”
“Yes and no. I’ve known her since high school, but back then, I was only an admirer. I’ve gotten to know her well over the past couple of months or so.”
“And you’re ready to move in with her already?”
“I don’t know. It feels right, but I don’t want to leave Noah in the lurch.”
“Have you talked to Noah yet?”
“I mentioned it. We haven’t really gotten around to the details yet.”
“I can tell you’re in love with her. But is it the kind of love that will last?”
Dante mulled that over. Yeah, he loved her. No question. And yes, he was probably a little starry-eyed at the moment. Colors were brighter. His step was lighter. Whenever they were apart, he couldn’t stop thinking about her. “How do you know—how does anyone know if it will last?”
His father shrugged. “You feel like you can trust them completely, and you would forgive anything they could ever do.”
Dante thought about that. Did he trust Mallory totally and unreservedly? Could he forgive her for any mistake she might ever make?
“Probably. Maybe I should wait before making it permanent. Just test the waters by living together. In fact, that might help answer my questions.”
“What questions?”
“Huh? Oh, just the same ones you had a minute ago. Will it last? Also, will we drive each other crazy—or will none of the little things matter when you love someone so much?”
“I probably shouldn’t say this, since I’m supposed to be a fuddy-duddy father, but it seems like the living together thing has its advantages.”
“I’m glad you feel that way. It seems the safer route to go instead of getting married too soon.”
“See? I knew some of my wisdom rubbed off on you,” Antonio said.
“I feel bad about leaving Noah, though.”
“He’ll find another roommate or move to a smaller place he can afford by himself. You shouldn’t base your decision on guilt for leaving your brother. Don’t you think that someday he’ll find his soulmate?”
“Of course he will.”
“And if you’re still roommates at that time, he’d probably leave you in a heartbeat.”
Dante half smiled. “I would hope so.”
“That’s how you know you love someone, Son. When you want their happiness as much as or more than your own.”
Dante nodded thoughtfully.
“Is that how you feel about Mallory?”
“Yeah, but I don’t need you to tell me I’m in love. I know that.”
His father slapped him on the knee and rose. “Good. One of your knucklehead older brothers needed to have it pointed out to him.”
Dante chuckled. “Let me guess. Gabe?”
“That’s father-son privilege.”
“Does that mean you’ll keep our conversation in confidence?”
“Except for your mother, of course. She’s half of me. I can’t keep secrets from my other half. If you’re smart, you’ll avoid keeping secrets from Mallory unless it’s for her sake.”
“Good to know.”
“Now let’s go upstairs and watch your mother teaching your future wife to cook.”
Dante laughed. “I don’t know who will be doing the cooking. I’m a pretty good cook, you know.”
“Yeah, I’ve seen your kitchen. You cook a mean TV dinner.”
Chapter 11
Someone knocked on Kizzy’s door.
She tap-tap-tapped her way across the floor to answer it. Hopefully, it was Noah. The PI wasn’t back yet. She opened the door, realizing there was no way to know unless they spoke. Why did her father think this was a good idea? Oh yeah…because she was a witch and could break the spell—or someone’s neck—in an emergency.
“Kizzy…” Noah’s voice was full of kindness and concern, and all he had said was her name.
“Hi, Noah. Come in.”
As soon as he stepped over the threshold, he engulfed her in a warm hug. She returned it, gratefully. Here was this wonderful man, just offering his friendship…and he was there for her. She did wish she could see his handsome face, but she remembered it quite well.
“Close the door, please. I need to lock the dead bolt.”
“I’ll get it.”
She heard the door shut and the lock snick in place.
“Is there anything else I can do for you?”
Kizzy sighed. “Please don’t treat me like I’m made of glass. I’m okay. It’s good for me to get used to finding my way around without someone waiting on me hand and foot. Speaking of which, why don’t we go to the kitchen? Can I offer you something to drink? Maybe iced tea or a beer or something?”
“Sure. Iced tea would be fine.”
She tapped her way to the kitchen, with Noah’s soft footsteps following.
“Have a seat,” she said when they got there. She heard a chair slide across the floor, and she was pretty sure it was the one on the left of the small round table.
She wanted to impress him with how well she could function with her other senses alone. She retrieved two glasses from the cupboard and placed them on the counter next to the fridge. Then, holding each glass in turn, she poured two glasses of sun tea that she had made that morning.
She found her way around the center island without her cane and placed a glass in front of him. The other one she set at her spot across from him.
As soon as she sat down, she took a sip and spat it out. “Gaaaah! That wasn’t iced tea. That was iced coffee, without cream or sugar. Definitely not the way I take my coffee.”
Noah started to laugh, then stopped suddenly. “I didn’t know if it was some kind of dark tea or if you changed your mind… I would have warned you.”
Kizzy laughed at herself. What else could she do? “So, do you like iced coffee? And if so, how do you take it?”
“I see there’s some sugar on the table, and I can get my own cream, if you’ll allow me in your refrigerator.”
“Sure. I try to keep it fairly tidy so I can find things, but someone must have reversed the order of the pitchers.” She sighed. “So much for that.”
Noah’s chair scraped across the floor again. A couple moments later, she had her iced coffee with cream and sugar, and he even added a kiss on the top of her head. That made her smile inside, but she didn’t dare encourage him. Not yet. When this nonsense was over, she’d tell her father where to go and hope Noah was still interested in her as a woman, not just a friend.
“I assume you mean the blindness, not the coffee mix-up.”
“Definitely. I’m pretty sure the second problem was caused by the first.”
“I don’t know what to tell you.” There. An answer that’s short and true.
“I did a little reading on the internet…”
Kizzy groaned.
“I know, I know. Not the best source for good information, but I didn’t want to ask any doctors just in case they—” Suddenly, a loud crash stopped their conversation.
“Stay here, Kizzy!” Noah’s chair scraped back so hard, it tipped over.
“What the…” If something was very wrong, she’d rather not be blind. Breaking the spell meant they’d have to go through the whole ritual again, but screw it. She held her hands over her eyes and whispered, “Goddess, break the spell and restore my sight.” She took her hands away from her eyes and blinked when her vision returned, accompanied by stabbing bright light. After a few blinks, her eyes adjusted. Ah… It felt so good to see again. Her vision seemed okay despite the spell. She had missed colors most of all…and knowing where furniture was placed, of course.
“Where’s your fire extinguisher?” Noah called out.
“I don’t think we have one. What’s going on?” She rushed to the living room. Flames leapt from the curtains and sofa, which was covered in shattered glass. It looked as if someone had lobbed a Molotov cocktail through the window.
“Stay back.” Noah grabbed an afghan from the back of a chair and beat the flames. Clearly, that wasn’t going to do enough. Whatever had been thrown through the window contained a great deal of gasoline, if Kizzy’s nose wasn’t mistaken.
She had to get to the book. Maybe whoever wanted it started the fire, but she couldn’t let it burn.
She ran toward the study, but Noah grabbed her. “Kizzy, no! The other way!”
She fought him off. “I have to get something important.”
“Nothing is worth your— Ow!”
She hit the back of his calves with the cane. When he let go, she ran to the study and, thank goodness, got there before the fire did. She yanked a book, which acted as a lever to open the hidden cabinet behind.