by Taryn Quinn
“Right? New favorite wine.” She took a sip of her own and shifted my chair until I was cocked her way. “Normally, I’d do this on the podcast, but these cards are a little crazy.”
“Definitely not announcing any of this shit on our podcast.”
I didn’t mention PMS had listened to at least part of an episode, which was entirely my fault. I had invited him into our world, but I hadn’t expected he might want to hang out there.
“Announcing? Our listeners are our family.”
“Maybe so, but kooky Aunt Edna doesn’t need to hear about my…stuff.”
“You have an Aunt Edna? Why didn’t I know this? Is she a fan?” Luna was already whipping out her phone. “I’ll send her a Tramp pack. What’s her address?”
I rolled my eyes. “Metaphorically speaking. I don’t have an Aunt Edna.”
“Oh. Bummer.”
“Secondly, I am not interested in getting involved with PMS.”
Her musical laugh filled my kitchen. “That really is such a great nickname. And it fits his cards.” She ignored my declaration and tapped a short, sparkly nail on the uppermost card. “All this Queen of Swords energy for both of you? You might as well each be wearing a forcefield of emotions. It’s gonna be a rocky one, but lots of orgasms.”
“Luna!”
“What? There’s lot of orgasms in this little setup here. Wands for all the bang time stuff.” She took another sip of her wine. “You know, physically speaking. But wow, there is so much mental energy. Then again, not surprising since you’re all wand and sword energy to begin with. Impulsive girl with a lockbox on her heart.”
She tapped the Three of Swords. “But this is complicated. See, actually, you both have lockboxes. That should be interesting.”
I leaned forward, clutching my glass. “What’s the placement?”
“Differences between you.”
I gave a sharp laugh. “Fits. He doesn’t believe in love at all. Divorce lawyer.”
“You are thinking about a relationship! I knew it.”
“No, it’s just an observation.”
“Hmm.”
“Would you cut that out?”
She reached for the popcorn. “Girl, it’s obvious he’s got you twisted up. I don’t need the cards to tell me that.”
“It’s more that I have to work for a man who is definitely repressed as hell.”
“Yeah, Justice card is right there for all his tightwad vibes. But I don’t know. You guys have a lot of stuff going on. And your aura is usually a pretty steady violet and right now, you’re a neon red. He’s got you all juicy, doesn’t he?”
“Gross.”
She shrugged. “I didn’t mean that. Though I bet you won’t need that little drawer of bonus lube to get your rocks off with him.”
“Hello? No one is getting any rocks off.”
“Hmm.”
“You say hmm one more time and I’m going to jam your wand up your nose.”
“So red.” She gathered the cards and started throwing more.
I got up from the table and the room spun a little. I definitely needed real food. “How about we order some Chinese?” I dug through my menu drawer.
“Veggie Lo Mein for me.”
I glanced back at her. “Since when are you a veg?”
“Just trying it out.”
I frowned at her.
“Okay, so my shorts are a little tight.”
I laughed and snagged the correct menu and hip-checked the door closed. “Ow. I really hit the pavement hard.” I rubbed my hip and tried to ignore the embedded soreness. Almost like a burn.
“Yeah?” She dug into her bag, “I have some CBD oil balm that helps. Let me see.”
“I can put it on myself, thanks.”
“Well, let me see if it needs more than the balm, silly.”
I rolled my eyes and lifted my shirt.
“Um, are those finger marks?”
I glanced down. “Of course not.” I tugged my yoga pants to the side and gasped. “What the hell is that?”
“I’d say love bruises, but you’d be in a better mood if they were.”
“Thanks.”
Lu shrugged. “I speak truth.”
I held my hand out for the balm.
She handed it over, still eyeing the faint fingerprints on my hip. He hadn’t touched me that roughly, but it was almost as if he’d branded me. “Hmm.”
“I’ll kick you out and steal your wine.”
“Testy, testy.” She stood and plucked the menu out of my hands. “Go chill out. I’ll order for us.”
Guilt clawed at me. “I’m sorry.”
She waved me away. “You’re just in denial and cranky with it. As soon as you get a few orgasms under your belt, it’ll clear you right up.”
“It’s not like I have a disease.” But I sat back down and held my wine against me. Would it be too much to get a straw?
“Your usual?”
I stood up and grabbed one of my silicone straws. Fuck it. “Yes, please.”
While Luna called for food, I flicked open my phone.
PMS: I regret our unfortunate lunch interruption. I hope you’ll be returning tomorrow. On time.
I propped my head on my hand. Only PMS would put a reprimand into an apology.
Miss Moon: Do I get any bonus points (bucks) for dealing with a douchey dad?
PMS: My father is the head of this law firm. He’s not a… All right, perhaps his lapse in judgment would be considered ill-advised.
I blew raspberries at my phone. That was an understatement.
“You wouldn’t be blowing raspberries at me, would you?” Lu tossed her phone on the table.
“No.”
Her eyebrow winged up and her blue eyes sparkled.
I slurped the last of my wine out of my cup. “If you must know, it’s PMS.”
“Oh? Texting after hours?” She picked up her deck again.
“Would you quit it?”
“Did I mention glowing red aura?”
I refilled my cup. “I’ll admit to a teensy bit of attraction, but again, he’s my boss. That’s a no fly zone. I might be out of the loop when it comes to office politics, but even I know that much.”
She shrugged. “Only for a week. Bang it out when the week is over.”
I toyed with the end of my straw. “Tempting.”
What was I saying? It was not tempting. The idea was abhorrent. Even if certain parts of me didn’t seem to get the correct message.
That part of me was a horny cow.
“I don’t want to suck up all that prissy stuck-up suit energy though,” I added.
“Then don’t blow him.”
“Luna.”
“What? Just sayin’.”
“Stop being obtuse.” I stood up and crossed to my desk where that blasted cat was staring up from my tablet. I flipped it over. “You know how energy exchange works. You’re the one who practically takes on the personality of the person you’re sleeping with.”
“I can’t help if my empath abilities get heightened with sex.”
I wasn’t that bad, but it definitely could adjust my mood post sex sometimes. The way my system pinged and zinged around Preston, I wouldn’t be surprised if our aftermath was pure insanity.
I really didn’t need any more insanity.
It didn’t stop me from going back to my phone when his text chime rang.
PMS: I shouldn’t have brought you into personal business in any case, and for that, I apologize. It was a rare moment of weakness.
After a moment, another text came through.
PMS: I hadn’t had anything to eat yet, and my coffee was detained.
Unbelievable. This dude was blaming being hangry and missing his coffee as the explanation for a genuine moment of vulnerability.
I chucked my phone onto the couch and went back to Lu.
“Draw me some new cards. How is my week going to go?”
Luna scooped up the cards she’d been throwing. “Podcast?”<
br />
“I might be a little drunk for that.”
Luna popped up and ran for my bedroom area. “Best time then.”
I leaned forward and rested my forehead on the table. “I say stupid shit when I’m drunk.”
She came back and set the microphone in the middle of the table. “Yes, but those are our best podcasts. Now where’s your laptop?”
I refilled my cup and pointed to the end table.
“Excellent.”
She set up everything along with my little recording board. And because she was Luna, she circled the mic with her crystals and lit candles.
Guess we were going all in.
“Heyyyyy. Welcome to Tarot Tramps, we are your cardslinging hosts, Luna and…”
I dragged my chair to the other side of the microphone so I would sound semi-professional. “And Ryan.”
“Don’t mind Ry. She’s a little down in the dumps. We’re going to do a reading for her to cheer her up. And maybe pour some water into her to combat the bottle—or two—of wine.”
“Really good wine. Really shitty day.”
“And what happened today, Ry?”
“If you don’t take that Carol Brady tone out of your voice, I’m going to stab you with your wand.”
“Stop threatening my wand.”
“Then why did you bring it?”
“Because I knew we needed a little extra today before I even came over. You see, dear listeners, Ryan has a wee little problem with her love life.”
I tried giving her all the signals for cut and hell no, but she ignored them. I slurped more wine. “I don’t have a love life.”
“Which is your problem.”
“Bottom drawer boyfriend begs to differ. We can take care of ourselves, right, ladies?”
“And gentlemen.”
“And non-binary,” I added helpfully.
“Either way, we all know we can take care of business, but it doesn’t make up for that delicious weight on top of you. Or you can be the weight.” Luna’s voice went smoky and low.
“I do prefer to be on top.”
“See. Now we just have to get you—”
I gave her a hard stare.
She cleared her throat. “A man to play with. Shall we throw some cards?”
“Can we look in the Tramp Box instead? I’m sure there’s listeners that have much bigger and better problems than mine.”
“Nope. Special episode. Let’s see what we can do with Ryan’s troubles. I already did her love spread with a certain someone and it came up full of fire. She just doesn’t want to face it—or him.”
“We’re not talking about that.”
“Ry, you need someone to pin those long legs behind your ears and do you good.”
I was in the middle of taking another sip of my wine and choked. “What did you say?”
Luna shrugged. “Don’t sound so surprised. There’s nothing wrong with needing a good di—”
I held up my hand. “Got it.”
“Do you though? Do you really?” She threw down three cards and picked up the middle one. “Look at that Ace of Wands coming up again. Fire, girl. All the fire is coming your way.”
“What if I don’t want to get burned?”
Luna reached over the table and covered my hand. “But what if it’s a beautiful bit of amazing in the ashes?”
“What if it’s just ashes?”
Luna sighed. “We have so much work to do.”
Eight
Tuesday
Card Of The Day: Embrace: Two of Swords (reversed) | Release: The Moon
Getting ready for work at five in the morning seemed a little excessive. Especially when I’d spent the evening with Luna tearing my life apart.
Okay, that was an exaggeration.
I had faceplanted at nine o’clock since I’d started drinking immediately when I walked in the door just after five. Things had gotten a bit fuzzy before Luna put me to bed.
In the end, there was one thing I remembered.
Wands.
Lots and lots of freaking wands.
Normally, I was excited to see them in readings. They described me in a nutshell. A little wild, a lot of fire, and brimming with ideas. But fire and PMS? Yeah, that wasn’t what I wanted to hear.
Or more, what I didn’t want to face.
Wands also could burn.
I’d put myself in the shower before my eyeballs were all the way open and went right to my drafting table to settle myself down. I’d been dreaming of that blasted cat and my little fox all night. This was one thing I didn’t have to fight. Art was always my solace.
A little rejuvenating tea to get the toxins out and my pencils and paint would get me right. Then I could deal with Preston.
Maybe.
I dabbed my brush in the fresh glass of water and watched the water bloom with crimson. The gray cat had snuck into the drawings again. I followed my intuition and let him do his thing.
Sylvia was just as pissed as I was about the intrusion. She chased him around the apartment, creating chaos.
I stayed bent over my table for so long, my back screamed for mercy, but I still kept working. I drew panel after panel of the silver fox trying to urge the cat back out the open window. Instead of reacting, the cat simply sat there cleaning himself, ignoring Sylvia’s antics.
“Watermelon Sugar” blasted into my subconscious and I swore.
For once, I’d been up early enough to be on time for work, and here I was, still in my damn towel.
I stabbed my paintbrush into the glass jar and got most of the paint off, rolling it into a damp cotton towel to clean later. I slammed my watercolor tins shut then sprinted for the closet.
Luckily, since most of my wardrobe was black, it was easy to pull out something to wear. I went with a black sundress with a smattering of daisy appliqués on it, nude heeled sandals that wrapped up my calves, and a short black jacket that fell right below my bra strap.
Black lace and cotton for my underwear since my little apartment was already hot. Today was going to be a scorcher.
Hopefully, not personally. That fire energy needed a bucket of cold water right about now.
I snatched my watch off the charger, glad that Luna had so considerately peeled it off my arm before she put me to bed.
“Five minutes. Crap.” I ran across the room to my altar and snagged a few citron and silver chains and my heavy amethyst pendant.
I had a feeling I’d need all the help I could get walking into that office this morning.
Hair and makeup was going to have to wait. My thick ebony waves were going to be too hot later, but that was what messy buns were for.
I stopped at my kitchen table and found a note leaning against my favorite crocheted bag.
I figured you would need a little help with the morning.
Xoxo, Lu
Inside my huge black bag were my glasses, emergency bag, deck of tarot cards, and snacks. As well as my favorite sloth tea diffuser and three baggies of tea. There were two more pouches on the bottom of the bag, but I didn’t have time to look closer.
“Bless you, Lu.”
Taking no chances, I folded up my backup ballet flats and tucked them away in my purse. Then I grabbed the bag and flew out the door. Driving would take longer than walking with morning traffic. Never mind trying to find a damn parking spot in Kensington Square.
I cut through the shortcut and was glad to see the kids weren’t outside playing today. The sun was too hot for blacktop kickball. They were probably down at the community pool.
I faltered as the bakery came into sight.
Bribe?
Nope. No way was I testing the gods again there.
I crossed the street to the Shaws’ office building and hurried inside, my heels clicking on the tiled floor of the lobby.
Dread filled my belly as I took the elevator to their floor. Seventeen after the hour.
Late again.
I glanced down at my hands and groaned. I was still
covered in paint and ink. “Way to go, Ry,” I muttered just as the doors opened.
The elder Shaw was waiting for me. Or the elevator. But he got me.
Ugh.
“Miss Moon, you are late.”
“Aware.”
The older man—who looked far too much like PMS in a slimy, slick, distrustful way—arched a brow at me. “No excuse?”
I flipped my heavy fall of hair over my shoulder. “Would you believe it if I had one?”
His chin lifted. “I understand you’re only a temp, but two days in a row is unprofessional.”
“How do you know I was late yesterday? I don’t punch a time clock.”
He said nothing.
PMS had ratted me out. Good to know.
“Not the only way you’ve been unprofessional,” he added as if I’d not questioned him at all.
I could literally feel every one of my vertebrae locking into place as I stood up straighter. “Is that right?”
“April is an exemplary employee, and my son took her word that you would be a good fit. She was clearly mistaken.”
Isaac Shaw was not as tall as his son, and I could stare him directly in the eye. “I’m doing a favor for both of you. And believe me, the fact that April is one of my very best friends is the only reason I walked in these doors at all.”
“Then perhaps you should turn around and walk right out. You aren’t responsible enough to show up on time, and you’ve already shown your propensity for public displays. Who knows what else you might do to besmirch our firm?”
“My propensity?” I took a step closer until I was definitely far too close for comfort, but my temper always got me into trouble. “Oh, honey, I think you’re doing the besmirching all on your own.”
Crimson raced up his neck. “How dare you.”
“I don’t need you, darlin’. You need me. There’s a difference when there’s that kind of power exchange. Then again, you probably don’t understand those kind of roles since you and Admin Barbie had to sneak off and feed each other shrimp by the fire on the other side of town so your wife wouldn’t find out.”
Elder Shaw had the same jaw tic as his son, but I didn’t find it at all intriguing.