by J. Morgan
The shadows were drawing past the tree I'd sat beside. Before long I might actually be sitting in the bright stuff, if I didn't watch it. Me and sunlight don't mix. I have a naturally creamy complexion, and the sun plays havoc with it. Freckles are the bane of my existence. I have a doctor's excuse stating I could die from them, if you don't believe me. It's a witch doctor's excuse, but she's licensed and bonded, so there.
Plucking my list from my empty cup, I readied myself for the mythical battle to come. Yes the grocery store was that bad. I made sure my last latte was safe from spillage, and rose from my seat. The cooler remained snug against the back of the bench, while I threw my trash away in the can sitting on the other side of the path. Just because I was wicked didn't mean I aspired to become a litter bug.
The can overflowed onto the ground and smelled icky. With the help of a twig I pushed my refuse into the flap without actually having to touch anything, all the time keeping one eye on my little cooler. While I wasn't averse to making another trip to Starbucks, it went against my nature to let someone kidnap my hard-earned trust-fund-bought drink.
I turned to pick up the aforementioned drink when my shocked eyes locked on the most unbelievable scene I'd ever seen in my whole entire life. Gregory, my Gregory, stood across the park with some floozie. I didn't know for sure if she was a slut, or just dressed the part really well, but I had to go with the feeling my gut screamed at me. And it screamed SKANKY ASS SLUT, in capital letters, as you can see.
She was all blond, with perky everything. The cut of her skirt looked downright indecent. I could see her knees! And the top of her breasts were just about flying into his face, her top was swung so low. I don't mean to shock you with this next bit, but I could see the top of her black bra all the way from here. I mean, if that didn't scream floozie, I don't know what did!
Could this be the type of woman he wanted? I wasn't about to waste perfectly fantastic sex on the guy so he could go after women he could have paid for. This wouldn't do. I had half a mind to march over there and kick both their asses for the very principle of the matter.
Besides, I looked a hundred times better than that bleached whale. Any fool could tell those breasts were all lift and tuck, with nothing but the padding to keep them up in your face. I bet she had butt implants, too. Nobody's ass looked that good without some work being done. Mine did, but I'm perfect in every way, so I don't count.
How dare he smile at her! She was giggling. Did you see that? I've been with him two nights in a row, and he never said anything remotely amusing to me, let alone something to set me to giggling. She had to be faking it. Poor Gregory couldn't see she was just playing with his emotions.
I knew the hussy was just revving him up for a joke. Just look at him. What woman would want a guy with tossed hair, boyish charm, and a hint of muscle under a rumpled shirt and baggy pants? Who the hell am I kidding? I just described Tom Welling. I'm surprised every woman in the park wasn't dragging him down and stripping him naked to get a look at his Clark Kent.
I'd better face facts. Not only was he a stud, but she would probably fall for him hard. Melina would kick me out of my house and send me packing home to Mom before the day was out. So much for a day away from my troubles.
I should have seen from the start I was doomed to failure. All Gregory needed to find true love was a little confidence. I'm sure my tumbling him a couple times amounted to all the ego boosting he needed to chat up Ms. Hottie. The flipping charm just added an extra bonus to the confidence package.
If this new development didn't convince me I had no business being a witch, I didn't know what would. I had the trust fund, spoiled brat thing down pat, but a total failure when it came to the witch bit. No wonder Mom was always on my case. She knew what she'd given birth to, all those years ago. I was a witch without the right stuff, plain and simple. Well, what was I going to do about it? Bitch and moan sounded good to me.
No, I had to stop thinking about me for a minute. Gregory needed saving from a fate worse than death before I started my self-pity party. He deserved to find true love, just not with that.
Evil visions flooded my brain. I could follow them and slip a few choice spells in while she wasn't looking. The thought perked me up considerably. It made me feel positively wicked, even. No, I couldn't do it. I could do it, but the better word here is I can't do it. If I revealed myself openly, Melina would hang me up by my toes. The mood I was in, there was no telling what I would do. As much as I hated to admit it, I wouldn't do anything but stand behind this tree, watching the train wreck unfold.
Would you look at that! The hussy pushed the hair out of his face. I hugged the tree, trying my best not to run over there and bust her one upside the head. I so could not believe Gregory was falling for this crud. He actually had a big, goofy smile on his face. You'd think he'd never had a woman touch him before. I mean, really. My hands were all over him last night, and he hadn't acted like that. True, his eyes were too busy rolling back in his head to do much of anything, but that was beside the point. He was acting like a damn fool.
I couldn't watch this anymore. To think I'd spent the entire morning pining for the goober, and here he was throwing himself at the first blond with fake everything to come along. I had better things to do with my time than to waste my afternoon playing stalker behind some tree.
Damn straight, I did! I had important witch things to do. Shut up! Buying toilet paper was important witch things. You try living without it.
I jerked my cooler from the park bench, instantly regretting it when I heard the cup thump against the inside wall of the cooler. I popped the lid. My timely intervention saved the world from coming to an end. Lucky for the rest of you, my latte hadn't spilled. I rounded the tree, to see Gregory and Ms. Thang heading in the opposite direction.
My finger twitched. Instantly, a boil developed on her right butt cheek. Hey, nobody saw me. Let Melina track it back to me. I hoped it was a painful one, too! I didn't have time to check before I let fly. For all I knew, it could have been a harmless pimple, or the start of the Black Death. Either way she would have trouble sitting for the next day or two.
Feeling a little better, I trotted toward my car. The thought of hitting the shopping hell seemed like heaven to me at that moment. My wicked was flaring, and Morloque help the person who picked today to cross my path. I swear the first person to cut me off with a squeaky wheel, or who stood in front of what I needed while talking to their friends, instead of getting their shit and getting the hell out of my way, was going home with a donkey tail and the cloven hooves to match. If the evil grin plastered on my face was any indication, insert department store chain of your choice here, really would truly earn the name Hellmouth today.
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Chapter 15
If you're still hanging around after my emotional meltdown at the end of the last chapter, I should tell you no one died during my shopping adventure, but it came close on a couple of occasions. I don't care what the cow in the leopard skin pants says; her ass was that big before she bumped into me. The case of feminine itch may have been me, but I'm not copping to anything without a lawyer present.
Needless to say, my nerves were on edge until I set my bags down and collapsed into my favorite chair two hours later. As far as I was concerned, the couch was still off limits. Even from my chair, I caught the musky scent of Gregory lingering among the cushions. I wish I could Febreze the guy as easily from my head as I could the heady smell of him from the couch.
Finding him at the park hadn't exactly been a wake-up call, but it had been a shock. The fact he'd been with another woman was definitely not how I pictured spending my day not thinking about him. Three days ago, I managed just fine not thinking about him. Of course, I hadn't met him yet, but surely that shouldn't make a difference.
I was a witch. Witches didn't go mushy in the head over men, especially human ones. You didn't see my mom mooning over my dad while he puttered around on the golf course. N
o, she went about her business making people miserable, until he got home so she could focus solely on him. Why couldn't I be like that?
Because at the end of the day, Gregory wasn't coming home to you. You silly witch.
I'm not silly.
Yes you are. I should know.
You be quiet. I've got the situation well in hand. Thank you very much.
Sure you do; that's why you're talking to yourself instead of admitting the truth that you...
I told you to shut up! How can I concentrate on my breakdown if you're going to act like my mother?
That's it. I don't have to take this abuse from you. I'll be in your temporal-lobe until you come to your senses and apologize.
About damn time. Now where was I? Oh yes. Gregory was going home to that blond hussy with the butt implants and pushed up titties. And why was he going to do that? Because I whammied the charm!
That really bites! The first real piece of magic I manage, and it sends the guy I lust over into the arms of another woman. Hold it a minute! What if I don't lust him? Could she be right? You know, little voices tended to know things. If she was, this all could be a symptom of a more disastrous and potentially life-changing disease. I could—gasp—be in the other L word.
My head swiveled, in case someone might have overheard my thoughts. Nope, not even the Neverland seeped enough to eavesdrop today. Could I be in love with him? According to Nazareth, Love Hurts, and I definitely felt some major discomfort at the prospect.
Maybe I needed a cat. Witches loved cats. I'd never owned one personally. Excuse me. I have never been owned by one. I am in no way stupid enough to think cats were owned by anyone. The above was a slip of the tongue if a cat should be happening to read this.
Perhaps now was the time to invest in the stereotype and get one. I'm sure, with a cat to boss me around, I wouldn't have time to think about Gregory or the dreaded L word. Where did one go to buy a feline that would be suited to life as a lazy witch's owner?
Who was I trying to kid? I was in the L word. What a revolting development. If I came anywhere close to the type of witch they wanted me to be, I'd be hunkered down over a smelly cauldron this minute, and putting the finishing touches on a one-two punch Mr. Hamilton wouldn't be able to walk away from.
As good as that sounded, I couldn't bring myself to magic my way into his heart. It may sound human of me, but I wanted him to want me for me, not because of something I'd slipped into his system without him knowing. The coven would drum me out on my ear if they knew I felt this way.
Just when did I go from lust to love? I think the third green tea threw me over the edge. The antioxidants were going to my head. None of it mattered anyway. Melina had been quite clear that he wasn't to find true love. Even if by chance I might be his true love, he'd never want me anyway.
You heard him last night. I was nothing more to him than an end to his means. He wouldn't give me the time of day if he hadn't needed a magical boost to his love life. He thought I was a nice girl, one fine enough to tumble once or twice in the bed for an ego boost, but definitely not the type of woman to settle down with. Hell, he couldn't get out of here fast enough once he got his hands on the stinking charm. He didn't even wait to get dressed. I bet he was still throwing his leg through his pants when he made it to his car. Did any of that scream a man besotted with my charms? I didn't think so, either.
At this point I wished my door would explode and the Neverland would take me. Anything would be better than the way I felt at this moment. I've lived over four hundred years without feeling anything remotely this painful, and would have gladly gone another century or two without the pleasure, thank you very much.
Oh shit! I just gave away my age. Who cares? It's not like any of you believe any of this is anything but fiction anyway.
I rose from my chair, dragging my butt into the kitchen. My few groceries weren't going to put themselves up. I would have left the entire mess there to rot if it wasn't for the two gallons of ice cream I'd thrown into the buggy for therapy at the last minute. There was no way in hell I was wasting ten bucks worth of perfectly good Blueberry Cheesecake and Double Mocha Almond Fudge ice cream because I'd morphed into a lovesick ninny. I may be emotionally distraught, but crazy I'm not. The little voices notwithstanding.
Tossing all the bathroom stuff in one bag, I quickly stashed the rest where it went, so I could hit the ice cream for a much needed pig-out. Yes, I did plan to have both gallons in front of me. Stupid question if you ask me. Whether or not I was using a regular spoon, or just using the soup ladle, now that was the question you should have been asking me.
I was pretty well deep into my first ladle full of blueberry cheesecake when I felt dear old Dad sneak up behind me. Like I might have mentioned earlier, Mitches, which my Dad happened to be, aren't all that great at magic. I love him anyway.
"So what's up Dad?” I gurgled through a hunk of melting blueberry mush.
"How'd you know I was here?"
I could hear the pout in his voice, but finished my bite before I answered, “Because you won't stop wearing that cheap cologne. I can smell you coming from a mile away."
"You bought me this cologne.” He pushed a stool over, and sat beside me.
"Dad, it was a gag gift. Nobody wears Brut."
"I like it.” He took the ladle before I could hit the mocha fudge. “Besides, it irritates the hell out of your mother."
I smirked. It would. Him being here put me in such a good mood. Suddenly, I didn't even mind when he snitched a heaping spoonful when anyone with eyes could see it was clearly my turn.
"Is there a reason you decided to drop by?” I asked, taking the spoon before he could go back for seconds.
"Can't a dad check in on his one and only daughter without there being a reason?” I raised my eyebrow. “You got me. I intercepted a message about you from Melina before your mother could see it."
"So, you know?” My stomach sank to the tips of my toes. It wasn't every day your dad found out what a nasty slut his baby girl had turned into. I guessed it was too late to climb into the tub of ice cream and drown myself.
"Yep.” He put his hand on mine. “Before you go all mental, I know you well enough to know you don't go around making it a habit of sleeping with every man who knocks on your door."
Only because they don't make it a habit of knocking, but he didn't need to know that.
"Dad, I screwed up big time.” I dug out another heaping scoop and shoved it into my mouth.
"Mitched it up good, huh?” Dad took the spoon out of my hand, and tossed it back into the sink.
I couldn't help but smile, in spite of the fact he took away my weapon of self destruction, leaving me no choice but to bury my face in the tub. Only his hand on my shoulder stopped me.
"Nikki, do you love this man?” The question came out of the blue and shocked me into honesty.
"Morloque help me, but I think I do."
"Well, that explains the death by Blue Bell.” Dad pushed the buckets away and put his arms around me.
"What am I going to do, Dad?” I sobbed into his pit.
"If you love him, there's only one thing to do. Fight for him."
I loved him, but being a Mitch he always looked for the easiest answer to a problem. Just because you loved someone didn't mean you automatically ended up with them.
"Melina will never allow that to happen. I'm supposed to turn him off true love, not become his one and only. Besides, he doesn't want me. He wants some blond hoochie."
"How could he want some blond hoochie when he has you?"
You had to love my dad, but he really had a blind spot when it came to me. “He's mortal, Dad. Mortals don't want to be tied down to a witch. Didn't you ever watch that documentary they made during the sixties? It was all about how they made that poor witch hide who she was so she could fit in. That wasn't the worst. Her husband made her come up with all his ad campaign ideas. I don't want to hide who I am or program computers for Gregory."
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br /> Dad broke out in a boisterous fit of laughter. “Nikki that was a sitcom, not a documentary. I don't think any man, be he mortal or Mitch, could ever force you to be anything other than what you are."
"But Melina?"
"You let me worry about her.” Dad lifted my face to his with a serious look in his eye. “And your mother. I may only be a Mitch, but even a Mitch has some power when it comes to the happiness of his baby girl."
Something in the tone of his voice gave me a moment of hope. Just a moment, mind you. I'd never heard Dad talk this way before. He and Mom had had their little tiffs but she'd always seemed to come out the victor in them. Now I wasn't so sure. I think dear old Dad might have been craftier than he let on. Maybe there was hope after all.
"If I head out, do you think you'll be okay?” He fluffed a curl off my forehead and kissed the tip of my nose. “No more ice cream suicide?"
"Yeah.” I snuggled my head under his chin, feeling another couple of bites did not constitute suicide.
"Good girl. I've got a doubles set up with that old fool Dr. Bombay this afternoon, and if I'm late, he'll fudge a birdie on the first hole."
"Are you really planning on becoming a golf pro?” The idea seemed ludicrous, but I had to ask.
He gave me a devilish wink. “Tiger Woods has nothing to worry about, but you should see the looks your mother gives me when I leave the house with those plaid, checkered pants."
I giggled as the image planted itself in my head. My straight-laced witch of a mother was probably dying by inches from embarrassment. The Bahamas League of Covenant Witches must be having a field day at her expense.
"Bye, Dad."
"See ya, kiddo.” He gave me a last peck on the top of the head before blinking out of the room.