by S. E. Babin
I closed my mouth and grimaced at the dryness of it. I cracked open one eye to see a massive man standing over me wearing paint speckled overalls and a thunderous expression.
“Ms. Harper, is this how we’re starting out our business relationship?”
Martin bent down and picked up an almost empty bottle of vodka. I cringed and whimpered as pain crashed through my head. He shoved it in my face. “What in the world is going on with you?” His voice softened and he let out a little sigh. “Do I need to call Mrs. Harper?”
I shot up from the couch. “No!” I winced as pain shot everywhere. “No,” I said, a little quieter. “Sorry.” I licked my lips. “Let me get a glass of water.”
Martin shook his head. “Maybe a toothbrush, too?”
I glared at him and stumbled my way into my bathroom. One look in the mirror and I groaned in embarrassment. My black hair was so messed up and my makeup so hopelessly smeared I looked like Elvira the night after a Halloween rager. My eyes were puffy and swollen and streaked with red. Some of it from the vodka, most of it from self pitying tears last night.
It had started out so innocently. I started watching Netflix and realized they’d loaded all kinds of new rom coms. I was smart enough to know watching a rom com after a bad breakup was like sticking a nuke in a car with an 85-year-old driver. But...I was a weak woman and could not resist the allure of the promise of happily ever after.
And so I started with one drink. Which quickly turned into so many drinks I’d fallen into a drunken stupor on my couch. Heat crept through my body at the thought of Martin standing in my living room judging me. I brushed my teeth, slapped some cold water on my face, and changed into a pair of comfortable lounge pants and a pink t-shirt.
I felt like death warmed over, but I owed Martin at least the act of trying to pretend I had my shit together. I stepped out of my bedroom to see him kicked back in my reading chair, flipping through one of my restaurant supply catalogs.
He heard me and his gaze flicked up to me. “You cook?”
“Sometimes,” I whispered, which was a lie because I loved to cook. But I didn’t want to talk too much because doing so felt like tiny miners were inside my head digging for diamonds. “I didn’t get the chance to check my email yesterday.”
His mouth quirked to one side. “From the state of things this morning, I’m not surprised by that. The contract is there. I’ll give you a few minutes to look it over.”
I shut my eyes for a second. “I’m really sorry. I am never this much of a mess.”
His gaze softened. “We can’t be strong all the time, Ms. Harper.” He set the magazine down and stood. “But I do need to get to work.”
“Right. Sorry.” I hustled over to get my laptop and opened it. I printed out the contract he sent me, and Martin tossed me a pen once I sat down. I snagged another magazine to use as padding and quickly read over the terms. I blanched at the cost of it, but swallowed my pride and signed my name to it. I was going to be so broke once this was done.
To give Martin credit, he’d worked out a plan to allow me to pay him half by making payments over the span of five months. The rest of the balance would be due upon completion of the work so it was in my best interests to get back to work. Soon. I grabbed my purse, pulled out my checkbook, and wrote him a very large check. I let out a shuddering breath and handed it over to him.
That check would drain my savings so low, I would have to work overtime to make up for it. If I wanted to have groceries, that was. Right now my diet consisted of ice cream, potato chips, and pity. So to say I needed grocery money was kind of up for debate.
Martin took the check and the key I handed him. Pity flashed in his eyes which kind of pissed me off.
“Do you want me to start today or tomorrow?” he asked.
I felt like I’d been dragged behind a car and left for dead on the side of the road. “Tomorrow would be great.”
Martin gave me a short nod. “8 am. Please don’t be hungover. Or if you are, please don’t be on the couch again. I’m just going to come right in and start to work.” He gave me a sharp look. “Also, please lock your doors. You’re lucky it was me this morning.”
I blushed. Not a lot happened in Midnight Cove, but that didn’t mean it was the safest please. “Yes, of course. I was having an off day.”
Martin’s snort told me his opinion of my “off day”. He let himself out but not before he yelled back, “8am. Sharp!”
“I heard you the first time!” I yelled back.
The door shut behind him and I stood there until I heard his truck leave the drive.
I turned to the kitchen to make coffee only to realize I hadn’t replaced my pot. “Fuuucccck,” I groaned. I grabbed my keys and my purse and headed out to the local coffee shop, not giving a crap what I looked like. That’s what drive thrus were for: the perpetually disheveled.
I rolled up to the window, rattled off my order, and less than a minute later I had an enormous mug of sweetened coffee and all was right with my world. Well...I still had the raging headache and I felt like I’d been run over, but I had coffee so I was feeling better already.
I couldn’t believe Martin had found me on the couch hungover. Super. Embarrassing. He’d seen me get dumped. Well, the aftermath of it. I’d basically fired him before he ever started work. Then I’d begged him to come back, and then he found me with a bottle of vodka rolling around on my carpet.
We were not starting off on a great foot. But I had at least paid him this time, even though writing that check made me die a little inside. I had to get back to work. Soon. I sipped the hot liquid, sighing as the sugary, creamy java made its way down and headed back home.
By noon I was still feeling not so great, but I was up and walking around without wanting to hurl. Too much anyway. The doorbell rang and I opened it without even looking.
My very best friends in this town, Melody and Parker, stood in the doorway with their arms crossed, matching accusing stares on their faces. I sighed, held the door open and let them breeze past me inside. I was no match for the wedge heels they both wore and had to face them towering over me and staring down at me like I was the worst person who’d ever walked the earth.
Before they could even open their mouth, I apologized. “I’m the worst. I know this. I’m sorry. I’ve been…” What had I been? A drunk depressed shell of a woman? “Indisposed,” I said and cringed as their eyes widened in disbelief.
Melody, a dark-haired beauty and powerful witch spoke first. “Indisposed?” she said, her breathy voice going a little screechy with anger. “Indisposed is when you had to go to the bathroom or...sex. Or something other than ignoring your best friends for weeks!”
Parker, a shorter, curvier redhead with the intellect of a Mensa member and the vocabulary of a sailor, went next. “The fuck, Katie?” She was a woman of few, well targeted words.
Melody blinked as she took in the state of my kitchen. Her head slowly craned up to stare at the enormous hole in my ceiling. Parker’s stare followed her and she whispered under her breath, “what the fuck is happening to you, Katie?”
Melody sighed, waggled her fingers at me in a shooing motion and told me to go get dressed. Parker nodded vehemently in agreement. I looked down at my lounge pants and tank top.
“Why?”
“Because you’ve been in this house so long it’s starting to smell like vodka and depression,” Parker snapped. “Do not trifle with me or I will drag you into your bedroom and dress you myself.”
And that was the thing about Parker. She said what she meant, but she could and would back up her words with action. I slunk off to my room to get dressed.
Ten minutes later I walked out only to find my friends fiercely whispering amongst themselves. I cleared my throat and they stiffened and stopped talking. They were definitely talking about me.
“Care to share?” I asked them as I slid on a pair of sandals I’d discarded by the couch.
“Not even a little bit,” Melody said. “Are you
hungry?”
“I’m hungover,” I told them both. “If it’s greasy and filling, I’ll eat.”
Parker rolled her eyes and stood up. “You look marginally better, but you still look like something that got ran over and then reinflated.”
I barked out a laugh. “You’re such a jerk.”
A smirk crossed the edge of her mouth. “I’m worried about you. That’s when all my best insults come out.”
I grabbed my purse and opened the door to let them out.
I let my friends choose the place and we wound up at a burger joint aptly called The Greasy Spoon. I’d been here a couple of times before, but usually stayed away because I liked my cholesterol being in the normal range. Today, though, my mouth watered at the thought of a burger dripping with grease. My stomach growled in agreement.
We pushed through the doors and were greeted by Naomi, one of the only unicorns in Midnight Cove. Most people thought of a unicorn as a horse. Which...that could be the case, but they took on human form. Mostly human form. If she left the town, she’d probably be considered super eclectic because of the star in the middle of her forehead and her bright, multi-colored hair. Her eyes were prismatic and caught all the colors of the rainbow. She was like a candy store in human form.
“Heya, Ladies,” she said as she grabbed three menus and motioned us to the back. Her pink, purple, and electric blue hair swayed as she led us to her seats. Once we were situated, she handed us our menus and said our waitress would be with us in a minute. I let my head fall back against the booth. I was exhausted. This was the first time I’d been out of my house for anything of substance in weeks.
When our waitress came over, a lumbering giant of a woman, who was probably a literal giant, I rattled off what I wanted to drink, but Parker interrupted.
“Bring her what she wants, but also bring her a glass of tomato juice with a shot of vodka in it.”
I opened my mouth to protest but she shut me down. “Trust me. It might be the last thing you want, but it will help you feel better.”
I pressed my lips together but nodded at the waitress. She gave me a sympathetic look and lumbered away to fill our drink order.
Melody was the first to change the subject. “So. I’ll the the first one to acknowledge that the question how are you doing is a little bit...vague. I can’t imagine how you’re feeling. But, Parker and I both agree this one seems to have hit you like a ton of bricks. It’s hard for everyone to watch.”
I blinked at them not sure what they wanted me to say. “I’ve been left at the altar three times. Not once. Not twice. Three times. All because of what I am.” The giant came back and plopped our drinks in front of us. I knocked back the tomato sauce and vodka, cringed, and continued. “Should I lie to someone I love about what I am in order to not be used? Because every time I tell someone the truth, it always happens. When I won’t fulfill their wishes, they dump me.”
Parker’s eyes darkened. “When you were dating Jeff did you grant wishes before your wedding?”
Her words hit me like a sucker punch to the gut. “Why?”
She shrugged but I knew where her thoughts were going.
“Yes,” I bit out. “Small things here and there. Nothing that seemed too major.”
Melody and Parker exchanged a glance. “It is possible he knew you what you were before you dated him?”
I snorted. “Impossible. No one but you two and my family knows what I am.”
“Could you have made a mistake? At any time? I mean, it has to be difficult to do what you’re doing every day you go into the shop. Was there ever anything left out that could have given him a clue about your identity?”
I thought back. I guess anything was possible, but I was always super careful. “Not that I can think of. I told him after we’d been dating six months.”
“And how long after that did he ask you for something?”
An annoyed sigh escaped me. “Maybe two weeks?” I snorted as I realized how short a time that was. “God, I’m such an idiot.”
“No,” Parker assured me. “But you need to have the spells checked on your shop. Something doesn’t seem right here. The spell you’re using to suppress their memories. Is it still working?”
I nodded. “So far so good.”
“Good.”
The giant lumbered back over and we placed our orders. I got a massive double bacon cheeseburger with a side of sweet potato fries. My friends gave me a funny look over it and made orders a little more on the delicate side.
“Have you thought about dating again?” Parker asked and grunted as Melody elbowed her none too gently in the side.
I almost spit out my drink. “Are you serious? It’s only been six weeks.”
They exchanged another long glance.
“What?” I sat up straighter. “What happened?”
Melody reached over and took my hand. “We saw Jeff out the other night. He’s dating again.”
My hand squeezed the glass so hard my fingers went numb. “Who?” I whispered.
Parker tossed her hair over her shoulder. “Does it even matter? He’s a total douche canoe. The woman who winds up with him will regret it.”
Melody glared at her. “I think she’s a wolf from one of the rival packs.”
I sucked in a breath. “He’s an idiot,” I breathed.
Parker nodded. “When Mark gets wind of it, all hell is going to break loose.”
The Alpha of the Lupin pack had little time for drama in his pack. Things were already bad enough for Jeff and then he had the nerve to thumb his nose at Mark by dating someone the pack was enemies with? I blew out a breath. Things would probably get a lot uglier for Jeff before they got any better.
The waitress came back over with our food. Her hands were so large she didn’t have to bother with a tray. She carried everything in two hands and set it all down in front of us gently.
“Need anything else?” she asked, her bored muddy brown eyes flicking over to glance behind her.
“No, thank you. This is perfect,” I said as I reached for the greasefest on my plate.
She grunted and headed off to the next table in need of service.
“I have this friend…” Parker began.
I hadn’t even finished my bite before I started shaking my head vehemently. “No!” I mumbled through a mouthful of burger. “Absolutely not.”
“Not everyone is Jeff,” she grumbled.
I took a moment to chew and swallow. “This wasn’t like we split amicably, Parker. He dumped me because he was using me and when I wouldn’t play along anymore, he decided to put me out to pasture.”
“Unlike that massive disaster on your plate,” Parker said, “you are not a cow and cannot be ‘put out to pasture,’ as you so eloquently stated.”
“Dumped me. Whatever. Kind of the same thing. I’m getting old.”
Melody snorted. “You’re not even 30 yet. You have plenty of time.”
I shut my eyes and took a couple of deep breaths. “I don’t think either of you fully understand how little interest I have in the opposite sex right now. I don’t want to date. I don’t want to get married. I don’t even want to have sex.”
Parker let out a loud laugh. “Everyone wants to have sex,” she argued.
“Try getting dumped and humiliated in front of all your family and friends three times then come speak to me about what everyone wants to do.”
Silence fell around the table and I took the opportunity to focus on my food. Dating sounded about as appetizing as eating tree bark right now.
Melody picked up the check and we filed out of the restaurant silently. When they dropped me at the door, they both mumbled a quiet apology. I shook my head, sighed, and shut the car door behind me.
They didn’t understand. How could they? If they hadn’t walked in my shoes, they never would. I ran up the steps of the porch, unlocked my door, tossed my purse and keys on the hall table and headed over to the couch where I collapsed for most of the rest of
the day.
The next morning, Martin showed up with a small crew. I’d been up since 6am, had traveled to the 24 hour grocery store just a few minutes away and bought a coffee pot, showered, dressed and managed to sweep the floor. Bully for me.
I still felt like I was on autopilot, but at least I wasn’t hungover and I was being somewhat productive. I’d just fixed myself a cup of coffee when the doorbell rang. I slipped on my flip flops and headed over to the front door to let them in.
Martin mumbled a quick good morning, though from the quick flash of emotion in his gaze, I could tell he was surprised to see me up and about. Considering how he’d found me yesterday, I probably would have been surprised, too.
Three young men followed him in, each murmuring a quiet good morning to me. I offered them all a cup of coffee, but Martin held up a large thermos.
“We’re good, thanks.”
I nodded, sipped my coffee, and waited for them to get situated so I could talk to Martin about what he was doing today. Hopefully that was my kitchen considering Midnight Cove was scheduled for rain later during the week.
It took him the better part of an hour to get everything situated - drop cloths, ladders, tools I couldn’t recognize and everything else they needed. When he was finally finished, he turned to me.
Martin Roma was a good looking man. Every time I looked at him it took me by surprise. He had the dark good looks of one of those pirates in the novels I sometimes read in secret. Dark hair, dark eyes, olive skin and a powerful, yet not overly muscled build. But the thing about Martin was, so far, he was very quiet. Never intrusive. And, the fact that he was here after my personal meltdown told me he was probably kind, too.
He held a clipboard with several sheets of paper on it and an ink pen. “Rain is scheduled to come in soon, so we’re going to work on your ceiling first.” He rattled off a bunch of stuff I didn’t understand.
“How long is that going to take?” I asked as I sipped on my overly sweet coffee.
“As long as there are no complications, I’d say within three days, we should have it patched up well enough so water won’t get in here. A full five days before it’s completely done.”