by S. E. Babin
"I'm going to say milk chocolate, cinnamon, vanilla and melted brown butter." Charity grinned at me.
"Errmmm," I said, dumbfounded. Those were my favorite ingredients!
"Great! I'll send this info over to the bar and have them create something special for you." With a snap of her fingers, a waitress beelined for our table. She rapid fired the ingredient list to her and then turned to Harry.
He looked...nervous. And a little bewildered.
"Hello," Charity said, though her smile dimmed a little bit.
Harry nodded as he held out his palm. She studied it for a moment, a slight frown on her face. "Cherries, condensed milk, white chocolate and...steak." Charity chuckled. "It will be interesting to see what the bar comes up with this time."
He stared at her with his mouth open. "How did you -?"
Charity waggled her eyebrows at him. "Never ask a magician their secrets." She stood up and bent down to my ear level. "Stay alert."
I frowned and was about to tell her to mind her own business when she abruptly stood and disappeared in the crowd.
"What did she say to you?" Harry's expression was too interested.
I faked a laugh. "She just wanted to make sure we knew if we didn't like our drinks that we could send them back."
He didn't believe me but he nodded. "Good, because cherries and steak sounds too weird."
It took me a long while to relax after that. First Martin and then Charity, a total stranger, acted weird around Harry. Yet I didn't sense anything alarming besides his weird reaction when Martin mentioned Lila. Honestly, everyone got weird when their exes were mentioned, so I really couldn't hold that one against him.
But after my third delicious original drink, my caution took on a fuzzy edge and I began to relax. Harry's handsome features began to blur around the edges and by the time my fourth drink rolled around I was drunkenly asking him if his parents were fond of puns because he was a wolf named Harry.
Thankfully he found that to be hilarious because as soon as I said it, I was mortified and knew I needed to lay off the drinks. He'd stopped drinking at two because one of us had to drive home. He could have had more because of his faster metabolism, but tonight Harry seemed to be pulling out all of the stops to be a perfect gentleman. By 11, I pronounced I'd had enough and he practically had to pour me into the car to get me home.
Harry went in for a smooch as he walked me up to the porch, but I deftly (okay, not so deftly, maybe more like drunkenly) evaded him and pressed a finger over his lips. "Not right now," I said. He looked crestfallen, but cleared his throat and nodded.
"Sorry. Too soon. I understand." He turned around and walked to his car. I watched him go, marveling at how handsome he was, but also wondering just how much I could trust him.
Once he'd pulled out of my driveway, I opened my door and pushed inside. Though I'd had a fun night, Harry hadn’t bought me dinner and I was starving. Though it probably wasn't wise to cook under the influence, hunger won out.
And that was how at midnight I came to bake a sausage and gruyere souffle and eat standing up in my kitchen like a wild beast. It came out perfectly, surprisingly enough, and I inhaled every single bit of it. By then, most of the drinks had worn off and I finally remembered to drink a bunch of water.
There was something about Harry I couldn't quite put my finger on, but I wasn't a hundred percent ready to throw in the towel yet.
12
One month later
Work on the house was starting to speed up, though I'd been seeing less of Martin. It was almost like he was going out of his way to avoid me, but I hadn't done anything to him, so I couldn't imagine why. Harry was still coming around and I liked him, but I still couldn't seem to commit to him. He'd been pushing for a bigger commitment lately and I just wasn't ready to give it to him. The gobs of people hanging out at the house had mostly died down, though every once in awhile some stragglers came through trying to woo me. The letters were starting in earnest, though. It was almost like being a lottery winner. Cousins you supposedly have but never knew claimed their blood ties in long, earnest letters. All of them were liars. Then there were the ones who just came right out and asked for something, usually donations for their imaginary churches or liver transplants for their made up on the spot brothers. I'd taken to throwing all handwritten letters straight into the garbage bin. Flowers and gifts still continued to show up on a daily basis, which was a massive pain in the ass because I hated to waste things. So the house was still full of flowers. Houseplants and other living things were repotted and moved into a messy area of the house I hoped to turn into a sunroom.
One particular vamp who'd come around a few times caught my eye and I'd given in to his requests for a date. He seemed genuine and sweet. I'd rarely met a vamp into books and video games, so speaking to Kristoff was genuinely enlightening. I liked him. Our first date ended kind of strange. I invited Kristoff inside while I was getting ready one afternoon and offered him a slice of chocolate cake. His reaction, while a little over enthusiastic, pleased me, and later that evening when we popped into Sam's Bakery, he convinced me to speak to Sam about placing it into his display. Sam was delighted and asked to try it before he agreed.
One week later, I had a special spot in the display case and Sam had contracted me to make a few more baked goods for him on a weekly basis. Kristoff was ecstatic for me. He wasn't as handsome as Harry, nor was he as sociable or involved in the town, he had more of a quiet personality, but his intellect managed to keep me astounded on a daily basis. So I continued to see him at least once a week. Harry pushed to see me daily, but I had taken a step back from him. At the most I saw him three times a week now.
I had my hands full of this week's bakery items and was trying to get the door open when a blonde woman came into my field of vision and held the door open for me. She was pretty in a bookish sort of way, with long blonde hair and bright green eyes. "There you go!" she said and let me sail through the door.
I breathed out my thanks.
"No problem. Got anything else you need help with?"
I stared at the woman for a moment trying to gauge any ulterior motives, but she seemed sincere. "I do," I said. "Give me a minute?"
She nodded and stood by the door waiting. Sam stood at the counter and took everything from me. "What do you have this week?"
"Cupcakes, chocolate crinkles, an Italian Cream cake, and some brownies."
Sam's eyes sparkled. "Can't wait!" He reached inside his apron and counted out some cash for me. I shoved into my jean's pocket. "Let me get the rest."
I motioned for the blonde woman to follow me and when we got to the car I handed her the tray of brownies. "Careful, I'd hate to remake them."
The blonde woman grinned. "No worries. I got this." Then she promptly tripped over her own feet, but managed to right herself. "Ha!" she crowed. "Scared you."
I snorted with nervous laughter. I'd seen the woman around town before, though I'd never interacted with her. I was pretty sure she was married to one of the town gardeners, but I could have been mistaken. When we dropped everything off to Sam, the woman held out her hand, "Helen Reaper."
I blinked in surprise. "The necromancer?"
Helen's lips twisted. "Or the woman, yes."
I cringed. "Sorry. I heard some stuff about you a few months ago. The story inside the courthouse was a riot."
Her green eyes gleamed. "Yeah. That family was totally whacked."
We chatted for awhile and eventually agreed to meet for drinks later that week. I was ecstatic. I still considered Melody and Parker my best friends, but I was good at holding a grudge, so I was still pissed at them over the dating stuff.
Later that evening, I was sitting on my couch enjoying a bowl of homemade ice cream listening to Martin's music as he busied himself into the soon to be sunroom, when the doorbell rang. I groaned and set my bowl down, hoping it would be quick because I hated melted ice cream. When I opened the door, Harry stood there. We stared at ea
ch other for a minute before I asked him what he was doing at my house.
He ran a hand through his usually meticulous hair. "I heard you were with another guy today."
One of my eyebrows rose and a weird feeling prickled down my spine. "Okay." I would neither confirm nor deny because I wasn't exactly comfortable with how this was starting out.
"Is it true?"
I sighed. "Does it matter?"
"You're my girlfriend!" he said and took a step closer to me.
"Umm," I said as I studied him to see if he was serious or not. "No, I'm not. We never established anything like that."
"We've been seeing each other for over a month!"
"And?"
"And that means something!" His eyes were wild.
I shook my head. "Harry, I haven't even been intimate with you. I don't see you every day. You never sleep here. I -"
"I would!" he shouted. "I would do all of that, but you keep pushing me away!"
He was right. "I just got out of a bad relationship."
Martin's music abruptly shut off.
"Your relationship ended months ago," Harry snarled. He was so close to me now I could feel his breath on his face. "I love you, Katie."
I took a step back. "You don't."
"And you love me, too."
He entered my home.
"I don't." I hated how shaky my voice was. "And I think you should leave."
A sinister smile played over his face. "I'm not going anywhere, Katie. Not until you admit your feelings for me."
I took another step back and bumped right into something both hard and unyielding. Strong hands clasped gently around my arms.
"Katie already told you how she felt. I'd suggest you leave. Now." Martin positioned me behind him and stepped up nose to nose with Harry.
"Oh? And what do you know about us?" Harry snarled.
"I know enough about you to know you're scaring her."
Harry reached out and tried to grab my arm. Martin shoved him back so hard, Harry stumbled and fell. An audible snap shattered the atmosphere. Harry hissed in pain and cradled his wrist.
"I suggest you get that looked at," Martin said, his voice deadly calm. "If you don't get up and leave her house, I will show you exactly what a Romani is capable of."
Harry's face went bleach white and he scrambled up, holding his injured wrist. As soon as he was out of the house, Martin slammed and locked the door behind him. He turned to me, his face made of stone. "Are you okay?"
"You're a Romani?" I blurted because I was so flummoxed by everything that just happened it was the only thing I could think of.
A quizzical look crossed his face before he stepped closer and lifted my wrists. He hissed at the red fingertips surrounding one of them. "Did he hurt you?"
I pulled my hands away. "No. It will fade." I stared at the closed door. "I - I can't believe that happened." My fingertips touched my mouth as my brain tried to make sense of the last few moments. "I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't been here." It was true. The way he was looking at me gave me the heebie jeebies. I'd never seen that expression on his face, nor that determination to possess me.
"I think you should sit down," Martin said and gently steered me toward the kitchen table. "Tea?"
I nodded and Martin busied himself making a pot of chamomile tea. Strange how he knew his way around my kitchen more than my family did, but he'd been here way more often than they had these days. Mostly my fault. I'd retreated into a metaphorical cave and only came out for occasional work and casual dating. Which...the dating thing was now up in the air thanks to Harry.
When the tea kettle whistled, Martin poured boiling water into a mug, added a tea bag, and set it in front of me. He sat down, watched as I dunked the bag and let it sit, and he let out a long, slow breath.
"I need to tell you something."
There was something in his voice I didn't like. I clasped my hands together to keep them from nervous tapping. "Okay."
He studied me for a moment, his face more serious than I'd ever seen it. "I know some things about Harry."
I stayed silent.
"Lila, the woman I mentioned a few weeks ago, is his wife."
My fingers clenched together so tightly I cut my circulation off. "Excuse me?"
He didn't repeat himself. "I'm sorry, Katie."
I pushed the tea away. "And you didn't tell me?"
Martin scoffed. "Do contractors normally get into their client's business?"
"Contractor?" I screeched. "You don't think that after all this time that we might be more than that?"
His stare was steady and unyielding. "Are we, Katie?" He lifted a hand and swept it across my house. "I've been here for months. I've worked steady here every day and we barely say more than a few words to each other."
"You carried me to bed."
His jaw tightened.
"You gave me water and ibuprofen to help my hangover."
"That's because I'm a decent human being."
Tears shimmered in my eyes. "You knew all along," I whispered. "Even after knowing what I'd gone through, you still allowed me to go out with him."
He let out a harsh breath. "Allowed? Katie, this is ridiculous. I can't allow you to do anything. This Harry thing was none of my business. The most I allowed myself to do was mention it hoping you'd take the bait."
I stared at Martin, the handsome tilt of his lips, the strong jawline, the serious eyes. "So we aren't friends. Is that what you're saying?"
Martin looked away from me, his jaw clenched so tight I could practically hear his teeth grinding. "You've never given me any indication you wanted to be friends."
"I made you cupcakes," I whispered.
"Because you wanted your kitchen done earlier."
"I made you breakfast."
"Because I took care of you and you were embarrassed." He shook his head. "Don't you see? You gave me these things because you felt you owed me."
I gave my head a hard shake. "I didn't."
"You did."
I shut my eyes tight so the tears wouldn't fall. "I think you should finish up and leave for the night, Martin."
"Katie -"
"It's Ms. Harper," I said sharply. "Our contract implies nothing personal. Since I do not consider you a friend, Mr. Roma, I would prefer you address me as Ms. Harper. I would also like you to remove yourself from these premises at precisely six p.m. each evening."
His next words were through clenched teeth. "You can expect the job to take longer."
I merely lifted an eyebrow as I took a slow sip of my tea. "Your contract implicitly states the drop dead date for your work to be completed. When, and if, we come to that date and you are not finished, I will most likely take it upon myself to renegotiate your services or find another contractor willing to step in." I stood from the table and poured my tea down the sink. "I trust you can see yourself out."
"Goddammit, Katie," Martin growled.
I turned to him, stone in my voice. "Ms. Harper," I hissed. I headed to my bedroom willing my shoulders back and my head to stay straight. The only thing I wanted to do was cry, but I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of it. I quietly shut the door behind me and sank to the floor.
13
The next morning I woke up much later than usual. The first thing I did was contact Kristoff and cancel our date. He was concerned but didn't pry when I said I didn't want to talk about it. Martin showed up bright and early, letting himself in with the key. He was by himself today and only nodded to me when I padded into the kitchen on bare feet to make a cup of coffee. I returned the nod and ignored him. I was furiously angry with him. Even if I wouldn't have known someone that well, if I knew they were dating someone married, I probably would have told them. It was just the way I operated. For Martin to have watched me go on multiple dates with someone like that and never say a word rattled me. Maybe we weren't friends. But weren't we something? I cast a couple of glances his way, but he was too involved in his task
s to notice me.
I whipped up some scrambled eggs and turkey bacon for breakfast and spent the next eight hours wearing noise cancelling headphones and catching up on all the Netflix goodness I'd missed over the last several weeks. Martin never bothered me. Good with me.
A week later, a knock on my door finally got me off the couch. The loiters seemed to have finally realized I wasn't interested in anyone or anything. Kristoff had contacted me once just to see how I was, but I'd blown him off. I pulled open the door ready to snarl in someone's face when I realized it wasn't a suitor.
It was Portia Kadish.
"You," I hissed.
She held up a hand. "Before you do anything, I'd just like to talk."
"Haven't we done enough talking?" I said with a sneer. "Haven't you done enough to completely fuck up my life?"
Instead of sympathy, Portia rolled her eyes.
I slammed the door in her face, but a strong gust of wind stopped it before it closed all the way. She pushed it open and stepped into my house.
Martin had come out of the sunroom to see what all the fuss was about. A weird smile played around Portia's mouth as she studied him. His expression curdled at the sight of her for reasons I couldn't explain.
"What do you want?"
"I'd like to encourage you to continue sorting through the dating pool."
"Are you out of your freaking mind?" I shouted at her. "I've got an endless line of freaks and weirdos sending me enough flowers to stock a garden festival and I just ended it with someone who was married!"
She studied her nails. "Ah. Yes. That one was unfortunate."
I pinched the space between my brows. "Unfortunate?" I growled. "You're a special kind of stupid, aren't you?"
Martin hissed in a breath. We both knew who I was talking to and what she could do to me if she were so inclined. A flash of anger slithered across her gaze before she gave me a brilliant smile. "Katarina Harper, Jinn of the Blue Jewel, I ask a boon, a wish, a request from your line of powerful Jinn, specifically you."