“Publicity?” I snapped. “You’re doing this for good publicity?”
“Well—”
“No. I don’t do things like this. This is all wrong.” I put my face in my hands and sighed. A waiter passed by me, and I suddenly sensed the weft of threads between him and a restaurant customer. She was sitting a few tables down. The thread was pink, and it glowed with a warm light as it twisted together. I reached out toward the waiter. He looked at me.
“Can I help you, miss?”
“Ask for her number when she gets up,” I replied in an undertone. “She won’t say no.”
“How did you—”
“Trust me on this one.” He nodded, and went on his way, glancing over at the girl as he did so. She was watching our exchange. I looked down at my fingers and began to work the tiniest of spells, directing it in the direction of the woman. I could feel the shift in her thought pattern as she and the others at her table got up. She was going to forget her phone on their table. I watched as she reached the door, as she realized her phone was still on the table, and then her return in time to run into the waiter. I smiled. Magic managed.
“What did you tell him?” Davey asked. He was looking in the couple’s direction.
“Just to take a chance,” I said, being spitefully and intentionally vague. His agent sighed loudly, finishing her tea.
“I have to get going,” she said, collecting her things. “Miss Harris, it was a pleasure. Davey—keep it on a leash or in your pants.” She left, walking briskly out of the restaurant.
“I have to get back to my table,” I said. “I’m sure they’re wondering where the fifth wheel has gone off to.”
“Fifth wheel?”
“Yes. I’m having dinner with friends whom I have set up. They’re all happily married now.”
“If you’re so good at matchmaking, why are you single?”
“That’s a long story. I can’t tell you all of it.”
“Can I come with you?” he asked. “I want to see how the magic happens.” He had no idea how close he was to the truth.
Chapter Five
Sitting with my friends, we had a pleasant evening. They were all shocked to see Davey there. I failed to mention that he was technically a client. Davey was completely at ease. He didn’t try to seduce my married friends. Instead, he sat beside me, his hand on the back of my chair. I tried to follow the flow of the conversation, but I could feel the warmth coming off of Davey’s body. I could smell the scent of his skin; a clean but masculine scent, spicy.
I dared to glance over at him, and he looked back at me. I startled. His eyes—they were yellow, with black slits for the pupils…
“Your eyes…” I said, raising a hand to my mouth. He blinked, and they had returned to normal.
“What about them?” he said easily.
“I…um, nevermind.” I realized that he was supernatural, like me. What he was, I was not yet sure, but it definitely complicated matters farther. He leaned in to say something to me, and I could feel my skin tingle.
“Do you want to shadow me?” he asked suggestively.
“Yes,” I replied.
“Right now,” he said.
“Okay.”
“We’re going to head out,” he announced to the table, standing up.
“Well it was lovely having you,” Frank, one of the happy husbands said.
“Truly,” Bethany echoed. Hands were shaken, winks were given, and we left the restaurant. We stood out on the sidewalk. It had rained while we were inside of the restaurant, giving the city a musky smell. Davey stood beside me easily, his hands in his pockets as we waited for a taxi to pass.
“So how will this work?”
“I will pretend to be your personal assistant. You can call me Naima. That’s my middle name.” he nodded as I went on. “I’ll keep the attention away from me, but check out the women around you. See if any are a match.” He nodded, raising his hand as the taxi arrived.
“Do you need to go and change?” I looked down at what I was wearing. A little black dress with a pencil skirt silhouette.
“I’m working, remember?”
“Okay.” He held up his hands, as though I were threatening him with a weapon.
~*~
The women at the party that he took me to flocked around him. They wore skimpy clothes, and shot jealous looks at me, even though I was supposed to be working for Davey. He walked over to me, two champagne flutes in hand.
“So? What do you think?”
“A party at a Porno producer’s mansion is decidedly not the place to search for a future wife,” I said, taking a glass from him and taking a sip. A man walked by me, giving me the up and down, and I shot him the finger. Davey looked at me.
“What if that’s the type of wife that I want?”
“These women aren’t serious,” I said. “They want to be in the tabloids.”
“I’m in the tabloids,” he replied.
“Do you want to stay there?”
“I’d have to think,” he shrugged. “I mean, bad attention is better than no attention at all, don’t you think?”
I stared at him for a moment, realizing that he was serious. His attention was caught by a woman waving at him.
“I have to go and say hello,” he explained. I nodded. A woman in a halter dress with a plunging neckline walked over to me.
“I’ve heard that you’re Davey Allred’s new assistant.”
“Yes, I am.”
“Are the rumors true?”
“Which ones?” her laugh was husky.
“The ones that say he’s looking to get married.”
“They might be,” I looked at her, inspecting the threads. Too thin. Red, but not pink.
“Is he seeing someone?” she asked, tilting her head a little. “You, perhaps?”
“Absolutely not.” I replied vehemently.
“Mmm.” The woman smiled at me, her eyes glittering. I wondered if she were a vampire. “Just thought I’d ask.” I kept trying to scan the threads of the large group of people who were surrounding Davey. He was regaling them with a story, which they were all laughing at. I felt all of the threads through a fog. It was my own attraction to him, I realized. I was never going to be able to find a good match for him. Taking deep, calming breaths, I noted a few women who had visible pink threads and no obvious dates. I walked up to the first one confidently.
“I love your dress,” I said. “Who designed it?”
“Oh, thanks,” the woman said. She was wearing a sparkly short dress. “It’s vintage.”
“Cute,” I replied.
“So you’re here with Davey,” she said, raising an eyebrow.
“Well, yes and no,” I said. “He recently hired me as his personal assistant.”
“Oh,” she said, immediately becoming more interested.
“So what do you do?”
“I’m a lawyer.”
“Yeah? That’s cool. You want me to introduce you?”
“I’d love that,” she replied. I got Davey’s attention. He walked over.
“Davey,” I said. “This is…”
“Caroline,” she said, holding out a hand.
“Hello, Caroline,” Davey said, giving his wide stereotypical grin. I walked away, moving on to the next woman that I could sense the potential love matches with. She was standing on a table, dancing. I waited until she climbed down, flicking her long black hair over her shoulders. She walked over to the bartender, who was just handing out drinks.
“Hey,” I said, grabbing a drink from the bartender.
“Hey,” she replied.
“So what do you do?”
“I’m a singer, even though tonight, I’m a dancer.”
“That’s interesting.”
“So people say.” She seemed pragmatic. Davey would hate it…eventually. I looked over at him. He was talking to one of his close friends, who was another actor. I wondered what had happened with Caroline. There were a few other women with
pink threads running toward Davey, but I could see that they wouldn’t be long term. My heart sank as I realized that there was a pink thread running in between myself and Davey. Not good. I couldn’t see where it was going, since Davey’s Fate was already so hazy. I was going to have to try harder.
Davey was walking toward me. He was rubbing his nose.
“Are you ready to move on?” he asked me.
“Did you just do coke?” I exclaimed.
“Well, we’re at a party,” he said. I rolled my eyes. I felt like I needed to babysit him.
“Let me get Caroline’s information,” I said. “She might be good for you.”
“Veronica said no call girls,” he replied. I stood there, staring at him in exhaustion.
Chapter Six
I had compiled a list of women that had had pink threads at all of the parties that Davey and I had gone to. We had gone to three, and I hadn’t gotten back to my apartment until five in the morning.
Late the next morning, I sat in my fluffy hot pink bathrobe, sifting through the names that I had collected from the parties. I took a sip of the super strong coffee that I had made.
From the first party, the one at the Porn producer’s mansion, I could see two who could be immediately eliminated. One, a tall redhead, was clearly a gold digger. She had grown up poor, married money early, and had divorced to great gain. She was now looking for her second ex-husband. The other, a short blonde, was a closeted lesbian. She had grown up in a conservative Christian family. She was now looking in all of the wrong places for a man to bring home to the family.
I sighed. There were two choices that might be good—Caroline’s thread had contained no silver. But Davey had spoken to her for less than five minutes before moving on. I thought back to the singer…maybe?
My iPhone chimed. I picked it up as I took a gulp of coffee. It was a text from Davey.
Got another party in you? It starts at eleven.
Eleven PM?
Nah. Eleven AM.
That’s in twenty minutes.
Yep. I’ll come pick you up.
I stood up from the couch and walked over to my hallway mirror. My eyes were puffy and had dark circles under them from lack of sleep. I wondered how on earth he was able to—wait. I remembered back to the restaurant, when his eyes changed. He was supernatural. Something that was stronger and more attractive at night, but not vampire, since he was able to function during the day.
I groaned, beginning to let magic flow into my under eyes, clearing up the dark circles and then walked into the bathroom. The perks of being a witch were never ending. I painted on some makeup, and then put my hair into a messy bun on top of my head. I dressed frumpily—like I was going to work, not a party. The buzzer to my apartment rang.
~*~
We walked side by side at the party. We were at a mansion in Malibu that overlooked the beach. Davey looked around at the crowd.
“So?” he asked. “Anyone?”
“I’d have to talk to them.”
“But that’s not what you really do,” he replied.
“No,” I said. He knew. He knew that I was a witch. I turned to ask him what he was, but his look made me pause.
“Now might not be the appropriate time for that discussion,” he said. I nodded.
“Maybe we should try double-dating,” I suggested. “I could set you up with one of my other clients. You know, see how it goes.” I was thinking about my other supernatural clients. A smaller group, but a definite demographic.
“Okay,” he said, rubbing the back of his head with a hand.
“You’re going to have to find someone for me,” I replied. “All of my friends are currently married, in love, or have kids.”
“You’re really good at this matchmaking thing,” he said.
“I’m fantastic at it.” His face changed as he focused on someone behind me. I turned to find a model-perfect woman charging us angrily. Even angry, she looked like an angel. Her blonde hair was in perfect, beachy waves, and she wore a knee-length, thin, silky kimono over a black bikini.
“Are you his new floozy?” she asked me.
“I’m his personal assistant,” I replied.
“So you are fucking him,” she snarled. “Don’t. Save yourself the time.”
“Uhm…”
“He’s not worth it. He’s a total dirt bag.” Another model-looking woman was grabbing her by the arm, dragging her away as Davey was maneuvering me away toward a shiny dancefloor. He placed his hands on my waist, and began to sway to the music. I interwove my fingers behind his neck.
He pulled me closer, and I could feel my heart begin to pound. His face was right beside mine, his lips by my ear.
“You know, this isn’t too bad.”
“It’s not?”
“No. You smell good.”
“Um. Thanks.” I could feel the threads entwined between us. Through the haze, it glowed pink. I felt his hand putting pressure on my lower back, pulling me even closer. I stepped back.
“What’s the matter?” he frowned.
“It’s…this is not professional,” I said. “I am working for you. I don’t want to give you the wrong impression.” He stepped forward, whispering into my ear.
“Maybe we can take that edge off.” I shook my head. It was the spell—he could get hurt.
“I’m not looking for a relationship… at all.” He frowned. He clearly wasn’t used to being turned down for sex. Ever.
“Um. Wow. Okay,” he said, trying to maintain his cool.
“We should continue with the double-date, though,” I said. “bring someone to be my date. Someone I won’t be attracted to. I’ll bring someone who I see as a potential match for you.” He nodded.
“I can bring my best friend. He’s a bit of a dog.” I laughed.
“Sounds perfect.”
“We can go to the Santa Monica pier.”
“Monday night?”
“Great.”
~*~
I looked up when Mari knocked on the door to my office. She held a box that was elaborately wrapped in pink paper with curlicue ribbons.
“This was just dropped off for you,” she said.
“Thank you,” I replied, pulling the card out from underneath the ribbon.
Sorry for dragging you around. Thanks for sticking with me. XX Davey
“Oooh,” Mari said, leaning against the wingback chair. I unwrapped the package, which revealed a white cardboard box. Inside, wrapped in tissue paper, was a porcelain carousel. It was elaborately painted. It was tiny and perfect. I placed it on my desk.
“Is it from Davey?” Mari asked me.
“Yes,” I flushed bright red.
“I might be overstepping my bounds here, but you two have really good chemistry,” she said. I might have flushed an even deeper red.
“I am not even going down that path,” I replied. “Especially not with a known playboy like Davey.” I was dangerous enough to men who were monogamous.
~*~
I was at the hospital with Aunt Anna. She was lying in the hospital bed, which made her look smaller than normal. She was already tiny—bird-boned, she would proudly declare. She was doing well, the doctors had said. They were trying to figure out whether or not she needed medication.
“So, tell me about this special lady,” she prompted. “How did you meet her?” Remembering my lie when I had heard that she was ill, I began honestly.
“I hired a matchmaker, Auntie.”
“A matchmaker? There’s something that I had thought was outdated.”
“For sure. But I wanted to meet the one, you know?”
“Okay. So, the girl?”
“Penny. The matchmaker.”
“Ah, and how did you ask her?”
“I haven’t. Yet.” I said. “She’s not interested. We were dancing, and I asked her if she wanted to…you know.” I made a gesture, and she rolled her eyes.
“Davey! You asked her for a one-night stand? A woman who makes h
er living as
a matchmaker might want something more.”
“No, it’s not like that. She’s setting me up with other women, that’s all.”
“So you lied to me on my death bed,” my aunt was laughing at me.
“Sorry,” I mumbled.
“Well, when she’s found you the perfect woman, I want to meet her.” I reached out, taking her tiny gnarled hand.
“You will. I promise.”
Chapter Seven
Sitting with my friends, we had a pleasant evening. They were all shocked to see Davey there. I failed to mention that he was technically a client. Davey was completely at ease. He didn’t try to seduce my married friends. Instead, he sat beside me, his hand on the back of my chair. I tried to follow the flow of the conversation, but I could feel the warmth coming off of Davey’s body. I could smell the scent of his skin; a clean but masculine scent, spicy.
I dared to glance over at him, and he looked back at me. I startled. His eyes—they were yellow, with black slits for the pupils…
“Your eyes…” I said, raising a hand to my mouth. He blinked, and they had returned to normal.
“What about them?” he said easily.
“I…um, nevermind.” I realized that he was supernatural, like me. What he was, I was not yet sure, but it definitely complicated matters farther. He leaned in to say something to me, and I could feel my skin tingle.
“Do you want to shadow me?” he asked suggestively.
“Yes,” I replied.
“Right now,” he said.
“Okay.”
“We’re going to head out,” he announced to the table, standing up.
“Well it was lovely having you,” Frank, one of the happy husbands said.
“Truly,” Bethany echoed. Hands were shaken, winks were given, and we left the restaurant. We stood out on the sidewalk. It had rained while we were inside of the restaurant, giving the city a musky smell. Davey stood beside me easily, his hands in his pockets as we waited for a taxi to pass.
“So how will this work?”
“I will pretend to be your personal assistant. You can call me Naima. That’s my middle name.” he nodded as I went on. “I’ll keep the attention away from me, but check out the women around you. See if any are a match.” He nodded, raising his hand as the taxi arrived.
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