by S. E. Babin
"I don't remember seeing you in," he said.
"You didn't. It's me, Matt."
Recognition slowly began to overcome his confusion. I'd never changed my voice. "Katie?" I'd kept my first name but changed my last to Petersen because I already had enough subterfuge, getting my name wrong wasn't a chance I wanted to take.
I nodded and pointed to my face. "My magic seems to be a little...wonky." I gave him a wobbly smile.
"Katie?" A voice I knew and didn't like all that much came to the side of me. I shut my eyes for a second, muttered a curse word, and turned, plastering on a fake smile.
"Marie! Hey!"
Marie was a redheaded werebear who only came into towns when she had book club or needed groceries. She was on the taller side and had a figure like a burly truck driver, but her face was gorgeous. Put all together she looked like she could both tear your ass to pieces but also make you cookies and give you warm milk before she tucked you in. She glanced curiously at my office door. "Getting a wish?" she asked cheerfully. "I've never seen you here before."
"Uh, long story," I said. I brushed past both of them, cringing at my rudeness, and hurried to the exit. I don't know how this day could get worse, but I knew it probably would based upon the luck I was having.
Twenty minutes later, after an emergency call to Parker, I was sitting in front of Sam's Bakery where Melody worked. Parker pulled in seconds after me and we walked into the shop together. The smell of yeast, cinnamon and chocolate hit me and I sighed. I loved this place, but this place and my hips didn't love each other nearly as much. But today my life was falling apart so I strode right up to the counter and placed an order for a cinnamon twist and a Bavarian cream donut. One of Melody's brows shot close to the ceiling as she rang it up.
"Everything okay?" she inquired as she told me the total, with a healthy discount, of course.
I shook my head. "See if Sam will give you ten and come sit down with us." Parker placed an order for a cinnamon roll with extra glaze and a bottle of milk. I led her over to a secluded booth, slid in and immediately went boneless.
Parker didn't wait for me to speak. She dug into her food with wild abandon, and only after she'd taken the first bite did she ask me what was up.
I shook my head. "Let's wait for Melody." Parker's gaze sharpened and something I didn't like flickered across her features. It seemed almost like Parker had a feeling about what I was going to say. But that couldn't be possible, could it?
I bit into my cinnamon twist and groaned as it practically melted in my mouth. So. Good. Sam was a wizard with food. Even though he looked like he'd gotten a dishonorable discharge from the military and possibly spent some time in prison, Sam was one of the most kind-hearted people I'd ever met. Both arms were sleeved out with tats and I'd never seen him wear a collared shirt. Work attire meant ripped jeans and usually a t-shirt with a wildly inappropriate saying. Church attire meant he'd still wear the shirt, but he'd give you the respect of clean, presentable jeans. No one knew Sam's history or what went on inside his head, but everyone liked him so no one pried too much. I saw Melody talking to him and Sam waving her away. A few seconds later, Melody was sliding into the bench alongside Parker.
"Spill," Melody demanded.
I chewed and swallowed and told them exactly who had come to visit me today. By the end of my story, Melody was chewing on the side of her lip and Parker looked like she'd swallowed something bitter. Both of them had exchanged more than one guilty glance as well.
I stared at both of them. "Okay. You two are obviously hiding something."
"We just -" Parker started.
"You see -" Melody said at the same time.
I rubbed a hand over my face and sighed. "Melody, you first."
Her cheeks colored as she opened her mouth to speak, then closed it. She stayed silent for a moment. "So...we thought it would be a good idea if we umm looked for a man for you."
One of my eyebrows rose. "And why is that?"
"Because your love life is appalling," Piper chimed in.
Melody punched Parker in the arm. "Because we want you to be happy."
"Keep going." Anger was slowly beginning to simmer within me.
"So we made this video of you and about how you only wanted to find a good guy to spend your time with. We sort of talked about your bad luck with weddings -"
"Oh my god, Melody!" Crimson heat bloomed all over my face. "You sent in a video?" I looked at both of them like they were insane. Because they were. Insane. Completely. I shook my head. "How in the world did you even film me?"
Parker looked down at her lap.
"Parker?"
She sighed. "Remember that open bar party last year at Rizzo's house?"
I clapped both hands over my mouth. "You. Did. Not."
I still hadn't lived down Rizzo's party. I'd had a little too much to drink and had gotten up to sing Tainted Love on the karaoke machine. With a lampshade on my head and pink punch spilled down the front of my white tank top.
Melody's mouth twitched. "That was for our good sense of humor part."
"I'm going to kill you both," I seethed.
Parker raised a hand. "Wait! The Agency doesn't take unsolicited material. We dropped it off knowing there was no change in hell anyone would do anything about it."
I pointed to my face. "I cannot glamour myself," I hissed. "In less than an hour, this entire town is going to know my identity." I had no delusions that Matt and Marie weren't going to put two and two together.
"So just recast the spell," Parker said, as if it were that easy.
"She took those powers away from me because of her psycho fairy godmother crazy find yourself bullshit!" I screeched.
“Uh oh,” Melody whispered and looked down at her food.
I shoved my plate away. “I’m going to murder you both,” I said without heat. “What am I going to do?”
Parker looked less concerned. “I think this is a good opportunity. You have the chance to learn whether or not someone’s using you.”
If my glare was a laser, Parker would have been cut in half.
Parker winced as Melody elbowed her in the side. “Ouch! I’m just telling the truth. I think Katie’s hiding her true self. She always has been.”
“That’s because people only see her for what she can do.”
Parker shrugged. “Not everyone.” She shoved a fry in her mouth and looked at me. “You can do this. I still think it’s a good thing.”
I leaned back against the booth and ran my hands over my face for a moment. Reaching down, I pulled out a twenty and laid it on the table. “I’ll see you around,” I said and slid out of the booth.
I didn’t stop even when I heard Parker and Melody calling my name.
7
When I got home, Martin's truck was still in the driveway. It wasn't surprising. He usually stayed until at least 7 o'clock. The one wonderful thing about this remodel was my kitchen. It came out amazing and every day when I walked in, I'd again murmur my thanks to him. He'd shrug it off and we'd laugh about it, but still. Amazing in every way.
I pushed open the door, kicked off my shoes and headed to the bedroom to change. I was in a terrible mood. Hurt, betrayed, angry and completely confused were only the tip of the iceberg when it came to my feelings.
I came out wearing a pair of yoga pants, a black tank top and a pair of flip flops. My long hair was secured in a high ponytail and I added a thin headband so my bangs wouldn't droop into my eyes.
There was only one thing I felt like doing when I felt this bad.
I stepped into my kitchen, smiled as I looked around, and started pulling things out of my brand new antique white cabinets. When I was finished there, I opened the new pantry, inhaled the smell of fresh wood and paint, and pulled out the flour, sugar, vanilla, baking soda and powder, and set everything down on the enormous labradorite island Martin had installed.
When I'd first told him what I wanted, he'd looked at me like I was insane. I proba
bly was. Labradorite was not a common request for a kitchen counter, nor was it readily available that large. I told him I'd wait on it if need be, but Martin had not only came through, he ended up with a piece that had so much flash, the countertops practically glowed. I'd oohed and ahhed and I still couldn't stop looking and touching them. I had to be somewhat careful though. Labradorite was strong, but it could still break. Plus it was so beautiful I'd probably cry if anything happened to it.
I stepped over to the new stainless steel refrigerator and got out the eggs and milk, then brewed a strong cup of coffee for the batter.
I set up the Kitchen-Aid mixer and got to work measuring everything. When it was finished, I hooked my phone up to bluetooth and started to stream The Civil Wars through the speakers. Haunting and ethereal, their music matched my mood right now.
I added all the dry ingredients and gave them a stir with the mixer. I slowly added the liquid, leaving the coffee for last. I turned the mixer up a little higher and carefully poured the brew in, careful to avoid splashing. This cake batter wasn't thick and every time I made it, I was convinced it wouldn't turn out. But, as I poured it into the greased cupcake pan, it looked exactly the same as it always did.
I preheated the oven to 350, waited until it dinged, and inserted the pan. I set the timer for 18 minutes, and when I'd turned around to grab the butter for the icing, I let out a little oh of surprise.
Martin stood behind the counter watching me. "Hey," he said.
I clasped a hand over my chest. "Hey. Sorry. You startled me."
"In the baking zone?"
"You could say that," I said with a snort.
"What's that music you're playing?"
I smiled at him. "They're called The Civil Wars. They broke up a few years ago, but I love their music."
His head cocked. "Me too. They're sort of bluesy."
I reached into the fridge and pulled out two sticks of butter.
"Would you mind if I were here a little longer? Installing the tub is giving me some trouble, and I'd like to press through until I get it."
I pulled down a bottle of wine from the top of my fridge and grabbed the corkscrew from the drawer beside me. "Not at all." I held up the bottle of wine. "I have all the company I need."
Martin's smile didn't quite reach his eyes. "Everything okay?"
I blinked in surprise and pasted a false smile on. "Everything is great," I assured him.
He gave me a long look but didn't pry. Instead, he gave a short nod and headed back into the guest bathroom.
I sighed and uncorked the wine. I wanted to drink it straight from the bottle, but I was trying to pretend I was a lady these days. I snagged a wine glass from one of the top cabinets and poured an obscene amount of wine into my glass.
"There," I said, satisfied. "Dinner is served." I had carbs in the oven, fruit in my glass, I had some ham I could pull out and munch on which counted for meat, and some smoked cheese cubes I'd bought from the farmer's market last week. That was dairy. It wouldn't kill me to skip the vegetables every once in awhile.
The first glass of wine went down way too smooth. I poured a second and concentrated on making the buttercream. After that came the crushed cookie topping which was as simple as me putting a bunch of chocolate sandwich cookies in a large ziploc bag and beating the crap out of them with a rolling pin. By then I was on my third glass of wine, so I may have gotten a little bit aggressive with them, but I think I needed it.
Today had been a rolling shitshow.
The timer dinged on the oven so I grabbed my potholders and reached into take them out. I lightly touched the tops of the cupcakes and they sprang back.
"Perfect." I sat the pan on top of the stove, closed the oven door, and turned it off. I'd wait ten minutes and pop them out of the pan. They'd still need some time to cool, but I had wine and all the other stuff was already done.
I took the bottle and the tray of munchies I'd made up and wobbled my way over to the television. Pouring myself a fourth glass of wine, I settled in for a little while to watch some reruns of Fringe. This show had plot holes big enough to drive a tanker truck through, but I still loved it and couldn't help but root for Olivia.
By the second episode, the wine had hit me full force. I stood and made my way carefully to the kitchen. It took me awhile to figure out how to stick the pastry tip in the bag I'd opened, but I got it eventually. I thought about maybe saving the icing for when I wasn't four glasses in, but I'd already made everything and the icing consistency was perfect.
By the time I'd iced the sixth cupcake, I heard Martin coming out from the bathroom. He looked exhausted. I set the pastry bag down and waved at the cupcakes.
"Want one?"
He held up a hand to wave me away. "No thanks. I'd better head home."
"Nonsense," I slurred. I picked one up. "Chocolate Espresso cupcakes with a vanilla buttercream and cookie topping."
The hint of a smile appeared at the corner of his mouth. "Sounds good."
I smiled sloppily at him. "Wine?" I asked.
He glanced at the side table where the wine bottle sat. "If I had to guess, I'd say that bottle was pretty close to empty."
I pressed my lips together and tried not to giggle. "Bad day," I said instead.
He tilted his head to study me. "Want to talk about it?"
I shook my head furiously. "I might cry if I talk about it, and I've been crying too much. I'm even embarrassing myself."
Martin took the cupcake from my outstretched hand. "Crying is a release of emotion. Holding it in makes things worse." He snagged another cupcake from the plate and handed it to me. "I'm harmless and unbiased. Tell me what happened."
He led me over to the kitchen table, pulled out the chair for me, and steadied me when I wobbled a little. I slid in the chair and offered him a grateful smile.
"Do you know what I am?"
A nonplussed expression crossed his face. "Does it matter?"
I sighed and let out a wet, drunk little laugh. "It does. Unfortunately."
Martin lifted one powerful shoulder in a shrug. "No then."
"I'm a Jinn."
His eyes widened as understanding filled them. "Ah. The magical object was you," he said. "That puts some things into perspective." His lips thinned. "But why are you telling me this?"
"Because by now the entire town knows it. All of my protective spells have failed and I can no longer cast glamour."
Martin bit into his cupcake and I was a little bit distracted by the sight of his white teeth biting into something I'd made. He had a touch of icing on his bottom lip which he quickly licked off.
Everything inside of me tightened.
"What happened?"
I filled him in about the visit from Portia Kadish. I told him how careful I was to conceal my identity at all times. But Martin interrupted me in the middle of my speech.
"So this was why Jeff Hunt dumped you?"
"Not because I was a jinn."
He snorted. "No. Because you wouldn't give him something."
I nodded.
"What a tool," he muttered.
"It gets worse." When I told him about my friends and what they had done, and added in that she wouldn't allow me to cast any protective or glamour magic for the foreseeable future, I could see his fists clench.
"That's outrageous," he said, his teeth bared in anger. "People will try to use you, Ms. Harper."
"Katie," I corrected automatically. "That's what she wants, I think. For me to figure it out."
Martin sighed and polished off the rest of his cupcake. "There are rumors - " he began.
"Three times," I interrupted. "I've been left at the altar three times."
He held my gaze and even though I'd had way too much wine and swayed in my seat, I felt like maybe Martin understood me.
"I'm sorry, Katie," he said and I could tell he really meant it.
"Thanks," I whispered and took in a shaky breath. I raised my wine glass to take a sip, but Martin g
ently extricated it from my hand.
"Maybe I should get you some water."
I sniffled again and the first tear leaked onto my cheek.
Martin made a strangled noise. "Please don't cry. Look, it's okay. All of this will be fine. Who's to say anyone will try to take advantage of you now that Jeff is out of the picture?"
I let out a sobbing chuckle. "You really think it's that easy? I'm like a walking talking wishing well. People will know they can make requests of me." I spoke the secret very few people outside of the Jinn family knew. "And if they word it a certain way I am obligated to grant it." This was the thing that made it so dangerous for my identity to be revealed.
His eyebrows rose. "Wait." He let out a strangled laugh. "You're saying if someone knows what to say you could essentially be taken hostage?"
I nodded. "But the knowledge was lost long ago. People don't know much about us anymore, only that we have wish granting abilities."
He shook his head. "Information might get lost, but I can guarantee you someone knows about it. You might be safe forever or you might not be safe at all." His dark gaze met mine. "What in the world was Portia thinking?"
I shrugged. "I think it was mostly for me to hone my instincts with men. I don't know that she thought I was in any danger."
Martin scoffed. "She created this town. She knows more about us than anyone. I have trouble believing that."
"I don't know, Martin. All I know is when I wake up tomorrow, the world is going to be very different for me." The tears pooling in my eyes fell down my cheeks.
Martin reached over and took my hand. "It's going to be okay. I promise."
"You can't promise anything. You don't know."
He squeezed my fingers. "I know. But I will be here for at least the next couple of months. I can promise you nothing will happen to you while I am here."
"Thanks," I said quietly, marveling over how right his fingers felt within my own. My glance went to my destroyed kitchen. I was too drunk to do anything with that tonight. "I think I'm going to go to bed." I stood and immediately lost my balance. Martin was out of his chair almost too fast for the eye to see and caught me against his chest. We stood there for a moment, our breaths mingled. I started to push him away, but he shook his head and swept me up into his arms.