by Taryn Quinn
The cleared throat beside us was my warning someone had approached us—and not from the direction I’d anticipated. My father was staring at me with clear disapproval.
Me. As if I was out to lunch with my girlfriend while stepping out on my wife.
“Good afternoon. I didn’t expect to see you here, Preston.”
“I just bet,” I muttered.
My father extended a hand toward Ryan. “And you are?”
“Ryan Moon.” She didn’t hold out her hand, just glowered in his direction. “I know all about you.”
“Oh, is that so? I know about you too. You’re my son’s assistant.”
“Temporary,” we said in unison.
“Even so, lines exist for a reason.”
I couldn’t say I was struck speechless by his hypocrisy—okay, yes, I was struck speechless by his hypocrisy.
Ryan, however, had no such issue.
“Why, you pig. You’re cheating on your wife with your assistant, and you have the balls to accuse your son of impropriety?” She jerked to her feet and pulled out a large, gleaming hunk of rock that she held in front of her as if she was warding off evil spirits. “I’m getting out of here. This room is filled with bad energy.”
She dug into her purse and tossed a wad of bills on the table before doing exactly what she’d accused me of this morning.
She flounced.
Seven
I shouldered my door open, juggling two bottles of wine as I shoved in the case waiting on my doorstep with my foot. I’d forgotten about April’s promised wine delivery, but I didn’t think I’d have trouble finishing them all. Then I would attach myself to the nearest rehab clinic to recover from both the booze and my new boss.
My purse slid down my arm and thudded to the floor. I flung my emergency pair of ballet flats into my living room—my stupid heels had been beyond repair—then headed straight for the cabinet for my wine cup. Obviously, glasses were not a good idea today.
“Not even gonna feel guilty.” I grabbed some ice and it clunked against the thermal sides of my sparkly purple cup. I kicked the box of wine closer to my fridge before wrestling it open. I loaded two bottles to chill and cracked open the one I’d bought on my way home.
“I can’t believe him,” I muttered. It was a miracle I wasn’t shouting.
The day had been chaos from start to finish. Dust coated me from my braids to the tops of my feet, courtesy of the boxes of files I’d attacked post-lunch.
Screw his NDA. He hadn’t asked me to sign it yet, and I certainly hadn’t reminded him. He was lucky I hadn’t quit on the spot at the restaurant.
I’d stormed out of the restaurant on my wobbly heels, hopped an Uber back to the office, and proceeded to lock myself in the file room. Cataloging 1992 hadn’t exactly been in my packet—dude, seriously, a packet—of duties, but I’d needed something to take my mind off the shitshow that was lunch.
How was I supposed to look Isaac Shaw in the face after knowing he’d been literally cheating on his wife across from us?
With his assistant.
I’d doubted Preston could clench his ass any tighter, but he’d proved me wrong after discovering his father’s indiscretion. That was an extra slap with all the energy humming between us.
Ugh. Now we were an us. I didn’t want to be the united front with Preston against the senior Shaw, but PMS’s eyes had been so…
Nope. Not going to think about that right now.
I sloshed wine in my cup and took a long swig before refilling and putting everything away.
Before I did anything else, I needed to rid myself of this day. A total cleansing, spiritual and actual.
I took my wine into the shower with me and rinsed off the dust. It was even in my hair. I hated washing my hair more than twice a week, let alone twice a day. I tucked a towel around me and grabbed one for my crazy mop then sighed.
My dress and jewelry stared at me from where I’d left them on the floor as I stepped out of the stall. It was tempting to leave it all there, but my desire to keep my small space tidy won out over my mini-tantrum.
Gently, I detangled the chains of my rainbow fluorite, even though it had failed me spectacularly today. Not that it was its fault. Actually, I wondered how much worse the day would have been without it.
I padded across my apartment to my altar and set it onto the jewelry tree in the window for a little sunshine recharging. I made a pitstop in the kitchen to refill my wine again—the tumbler was small, dammit—and ate three pieces of cheese. That was totally enough for dinner.
Sure.
When I was dry enough, I put on yoga pants and one of my loosest shirts. I quickly braided my hair as I paced up and down the main living space.
The shower should have washed off my mood. This was my sacred space. It usually soothed me immediately and not just because of the specific network of crystals and diffusers I’d created with a bonus bit of sage work. I usually made sure to kick this kind of energy off me before I entered.
Now the vibe in my sanctuary was all off because my nerves were a jangling mess of lust, anger, and something else. The lust part was very annoying.
Usually in this situation—not that I’d ever been quite in this situation before—I’d just bang it out with the dude. Sometimes an energy exchange was all it was.
With PMS, it was a damn fireball and I wasn’t looking to get burned, thank you very much.
I grabbed my yoga mat and sat down in the pale stripe of sun at the center of my apartment. I needed to meditate.
Desperately.
I drew in a long, slow breath and let it out. Another one as I visualized myself sinking into my mat, connecting with the ground as each of my chakras opened like a flower. I filled myself with calm, expelling the anger.
My phone rang.
I opened one eye. “Seriously?”
I lifted my shoulders and sat up straight, closing my eyes once more. “Just ignore it. Orange flower, Ryan.” Another deep breath.
Luna’s text tone went off.
She could wait. She’d understand.
Another message.
I dropped onto my back with a groan then rolled to my knees. I didn’t even have the strength to stand up. “Pathetic.”
Another text came through as I crawled across the room to my purse by the door. This time, it was PMS.
“Ignore.” I stabbed the screen. I was tempted to turn the whole damn thing off, but it rang as I stared at it. Luna’s sweet face and blond curls filled the screen.
“Hello?”
“What the hell, girl? Aren’t we meeting tonight?”
I’d totally spaced out about recording tonight. Crap. “I’m sorry, Lu. I got home from work later than I thought I would.”
“Oh, right.” Her voice went sly. “Working for sexy texter guy. Is April’s boss hot? I can’t believe we’ve never bugged her at work and met this guy.”
“His texts weren’t hot.”
A little unprofessional maybe, but not that hot.
Okay, maybe a tiny bit.
“Hmm. So, is he hot?”
I staggered to my feet and rescued my cup for one more refill. “If you think a repressed suited-up dude in need of a surgical scale removal of the stick up his ass is cute, sure.”
“Hmm.”
“Stop with the hmm. There is no hmm.”
“Is he tall, dark, and yummy?”
“He’s tall.”
“Well, that’s already giving him some points. Can you stare him in the eye or do you have to look up?”
I gnawed on the corner of my bottom lip. “Look up.”
“With heels?”
“Yes, with heels.”
“What did you wear?”
“Why do you care?”
“Because I want to know if you went all witchy tarot girl on him or played nice.”
Curling up on the couch, I pulled a pillow onto my lap and rested my chin on top. “I started off very professional. He would have had absolu
tely no idea I was wearing my chakra chains down my back if it hadn’t been for that stupid bike chick and the donuts.”
“Okay, back it up. Donuts?”
“Yes. I was running late—”
“Shocker.”
“Shut up. Do you want to hear this or not?”
“I’m sorry. Go on.”
“I went to The Honey Pot.”
“Oh, you really must have been late. Or you were trying to impress him…”
“Can I continue?”
Luna cleared her throat, which suspiciously sounded like a laugh. “Oh, yes, please.”
I hugged the pillow tighter as I slumped on the couch. “You know those movies where you see the girl flipping a box of pastries in the air, and everything goes splat?”
Luna snorted. “Only on Hallmark movies.”
“Yeah, well, reality is much squishier and messier. Though there was a hot guy to help me up.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad.”
“Yeah, but he’s already into Dre. Could practically scent the pheromones in the air. He was ready to try out her honey pot.”
“Is that so?” Luna hummed in appreciation. “Dre could use it.”
“Truth. The whole thing was rather adorable. Something was different about him.”
“Bad vibes?”
“No, just…different. Anyway, this maniac bike messenger tried to take me out.”
“Those are still a thing?”
“Evidently.” I punched the pillow and tried to get comfortable. “I appreciate your concern.”
Her musical laugh came across the airwaves as I put her on speaker. “I’m sorry. You okay?”
“Just my pride and maybe my hip.” I rubbed at it absently. It was a little sore. “Luckily, there’s plenty of padding there.”
“Girl, we all wish we were as lush and beautiful as you are.”
“Don’t try to butter me up now.” I picked at the fringe on the pillow. “So my respectable business wear was toast.”
“Did you say you were wearing your body chain thing? Dude, that is super hot.”
“It’s to balance—”
“Whatever. You know that’s hot as fuck. You sure you didn’t wear that to toy with him?”
I sat up. “It was armor, dammit. I had to go into that stuffy law office. Besides, it was under my sweater. He would never have known it was there.”
“Except that it drapes in the front too. It’s literally a network of chains that go around your boobs.”
“Okay, so it was a little sexy, but it was mostly hidden. And I wore it for myself, not him.”
“Hmm.”
I curled my arms around my middle. “Stop hmming me.”
“You’re awfully pouty.” I heard shuffling happening.
“No, I’m not. What are you doing?”
“Pulling cards.”
“You don’t have to do that.” I popped up from the couch and snatched my AirPods from the little charging nook on my end table. I tucked them in my ears so I could pace as I talked.
“Obviously, we need to do a little card therapy.”
“No, we really don’t.”
“Then I definitely do since you’re so wound up.”
“No, it’s not that. I just don’t think I need it.”
“Whenever you think you don’t, you really do.”
I nibbled on the corner of my thumbnail. “We have podcast stuff.”
“It can wait.” Luna was a bridge shuffler so all I could hear was the snap and riffle of cards as she did her usual routine. I could see her in my head. Sitting cross-legged on her massive pink floor pillow, her short table in front of her.
The snap-snap-snap of cards came through my earbuds as she laid them out.
“What spread are you doing?”
“A love spread.”
The way she emphasized love in a singsong voice made my thighs clench. “We are not involved that way.”
“Not yet.”
Damn these super good AirPods. I could hear every card she set down. How big was the stupid spread? “Not ever. He’s my boss.”
“Yeah, for a week.”
“And then I’ll never see him again.”
“Best time to get that boom-chica-wow-wow out of your system.”
“No one says that.”
“Doesn’t matter, you get the reason behind it. Besides, this spread says woowee on fire, girl.”
I reached for my wine and took a fortifying sip. “What? Why?”
I heard rustling. “Okay, I’m coming over. This is just too much to do here on the phone.”
“You don’t have to do that.” I tapped my AirPod. “Luna?” I went over to my phone, and yep, she was gone.
My stomach rumbled its displeasure from no food. I’d gotten a few bites of my steak lunch before Pig Shaw came over and ruined my appetite, and the few bites of cheese I’d had upon arriving home hadn’t done much.
Foraging in my fridge was close to fruitless. In the end, I went with more wine and a pair of Pop Tarts with a bag of Boom Chicka Pop for when Luna arrived.
I dumped a bunch of the sea salt caramel popcorn in one of my reusable bags and downed my Pop Tarts like a starving woman using wine as a chaser. There was a knock just as I was wiping down my table.
“Since when don’t you just walk in?” I opened the door to find Luna with two huge bags in her arms and her crossbody boho bag stuffed to the gills. “My day wasn’t that bad.” I grabbed one of the bags.
“Cards say otherwise. And your freaking glowing aura. Girl, you are in trouble.”
“Isn’t it ‘you’re in danger, girl’?” I parroted the way Whoopi Goldberg said it in Ghost.
“I don’t think spirits are coming for your soul.” She gave me a once-over. “I hope.”
“Oh, stop.”
Luna smiled hugely and put down her bags before enveloping me in one of her bear hugs, which pretty much put her face in my boobs. “Goddess, you smell good.”
“Thanks.” I’d doused myself in one of my essential oil blends to try to get myself out of my funk. It wasn’t working. Even my chunky amethyst pendant couldn’t get rid of this bitchy mood. Maybe I should invest in a black tourmaline suit.
She slung her huge bag off her back and unearthed a few pouches of crystals along with her wand. Then she pulled out her decks and a bottle of wine.
“I have wine.”
She shrugged. “I wanted to try this new one. It’s a witchy wine maker from Luna Falls. I mean, the town has my name. I had to try it.” She lifted the bottle. Apothecary Wines was in a hand-drawn font scrawled over the front with an ink drawing of a pretty cove and waterfall with a full moon above it. She tipped the bottle upside down. “It has amethyst and clear quartz blown into the glass.”
“Wow.”
“I know, right? I’m pretty much in love with the little pop up they had in town. The winery was more on the fringes of the town.” She righted the bottle and set it on the table. “We’ll have to take a trip. There’s a really cool crystal shop down the street.”
I grabbed the bottle. “Kinda crazy that you brought it over. I just ordered some of this for lunch.”
Her arms jangled as she reached into her bag for more treasures. “For lunch? That’s my kind of meal.”
I laughed. “No, for PMS and I when we were talking work.”
She glanced at me. “Work and wine on your first day? Hmm.”
“Do not start that again.”
Shrugging, she gestured to all the pouches on the table. “I have many pretties for you.”
“You don’t have to buy me stuff, Lu.” I plopped into the chair and pulled my foot up against my butt to rest my chin on my knee.
“So says the Debbie Downer.” She pulled out another huge bubble-wrapped piece and tore into the tape. “I knew I’d gotten this for you for a reason. Just didn’t know it at the time.” She spun the wrapped piece out until a blue and white skull was revealed. “Meet George.”
I l
aughed and cupped the dome of the sodalite skull. I could feel the calming influence already. Most of the crystals I had were gifts from Lu, other than the few I picked out myself. She had a knack. “Nice to meet you, George. You will look very pretty on my altar.”
“Right? I knew it would be perfect to pair with Julia.”
I shook my head, my mood already brightening from her presence. How could it not? She was pure sunshine.
Her short blond hair was in spiky space buns wrapped in magenta old school bubblegum-sized ball hair ties. Her lips were a matching pink and sparkles winked on her eyelids. A pair of denim cutoffs brushed the tops of her thighs, short enough that the pockets peeked from the bottoms. Three layers of tank tops and five layers of chains and crystals made up the rest of her outfit. A lacy see-thru shirt tied around her waist added to the retro 90’s ensemble. Magenta Doc Martens and cute lacy-topped white socks peeking from the top of her tall boots completed the look.
I picked up George and put him beside Julia, the amethyst skull I’d bought when I wanted to boost my intuition enough to open a virtual practice. I’d been doing parties and fairs here and there, but when I finally became serious about reading cards for people, I’d had to do a lot of work to believe I was worthy to do it.
Reading cards for teenagers to fit in was one thing, but to actually heed the call to do it as a spiritual practice was very different. It wasn’t just about me anymore.
I murmured a few words and set some incense burning to welcome him to my home. By the time I got back to Luna, she had a crystal circle set up, wine poured, and the spread laid out.
“You weren’t kidding about this one.” I tapped the Ace of Wands, the center card of her wide diamond-shaped spread.
She slapped my hand away. “No reading my cards. You know the rules.”
I lifted the mason jar she’d filled for me with the new wine. No regular wine glasses for us. “Sorry.”
“Reading for tarot readers like you is the worst.”
“It is not.” I took a drink and licked my lips. “Mmm. I had something different from them today. Riesling. That was good, but this is delicious.”