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 Eight
I was home for Sunday dinner. Mom and I were putting the food on when she placed her hands on her hips and studied me closely.
“Okay, Penny. Spill the beans. Who is he?”
“What?”
“You’re glowing. Obviously, you’re seeing someone.”
“Oh, no. I’m not seeing anyone,” I said, fatigued already. “I mean, look at what happened to my last fiancé. A full body cast. Jeremy is never talking to me again. What next? Death? I have to stop while I’m ahead.” Mom shook her head.
“I have a new client. A celebrity, whose endorsement might be enough to save business.”
“Really? Who is it? Anyone I know?”
“Davey Allred.”
“That’s so exciting, Penny!”
“It is,” I replied. “It’s the only reason that I’m so happy. Business. Business is the reason.”
She looked at me, her eyebrow raised. It was clear that she didn’t believe me.
“Penny, I support you, in all things,” my mother said. “But you aren’t getting any younger, and it’s really important to have someone to share your later life with. I know that I went through a lot of tough relationships, but I kept going until I met Ted. He’s a really great guy, and he supports me.”
“I know, and I’m happy for you two.”
“That’s all I’m going to say.”
“Thanks, Mom.” She nodded, and went back to basting her roast chicken. I opened the can of green beans, relieved that she was dropping the subject.
Over dinner, my sister, Jenna, was talking about her wedding plans. Her fiancé, Greg, sat beside her, silently masticating green beans and chicken.
“So we’ll have about one hundred and fifty people, which the Country Club can easily accommodate,” Jenna was
saying. “Hey, Pen, have you figured out whether you’re bringing a Plus One yet?”
“She will have a Plus One,” my grandmother piped up before taking a bite of chicken. Everyone looked at her, surprised. “Lucy, this chicken is wonderful.”
“Grandma?” I asked.
“The Fates,” she mumbled. Myrtle McCrairie was a famous seer. She dealt in Fate magic. It was less sure-fire than Love magic. It set my non-supernatural family members on edge. Jenna looked at me, her eyes wide and hopeful.
“You could bring Davey Allred,” she said, ecstatic at the idea of having a Hollywood celebrity at her wedding.
“Absolutely not,” I replied. “He’s a client.” My sister exhaled and rolled her eyes.
“Does everyone NOT remember what happened to my last fiancé?” I erupted. “Jeremy was in a FULL BODY CAST. Imagine if that happened to a client. It’s a terrible idea.”
“Well, I do have some single bridesmaids who would be thrilled to meet Davey,” Jenna said. “And think of it as a wedding present to me if he’s in the photos.” I rolled my eyes.
“I’ll ask,” I said dryly. “Don’t hold your breath.”
~*~
“So, Davey says that you are, like, not interested in dating,” Marcus said. He was Davey’s best friend, and fellow actor. Marcus liked doing his own stunts. He was famous for it.
“Nope. Not at all,” I responded. He laughed.
“Seems kinda silly to go on a double date,” he replied.
“Think of it like recon,” I replied. He cocked an eyebrow.
“Cynthia,” I explained, gesturing toward Davey and the woman that I had set him up with. “I have a good feeling about. But am I sure? No. Not until I observe them interacting.”
“I see. I guess we both have a vested interest in seeing how they interact,” Marcus said.
“Oh?”
“Yeah. His liaisons with the ladies are a bit…self destructive, you know?” I smiled at him, studying his threads as I did so. He was going to meet his match soon, I realized. Any day now. Marcus held out his bag of popcorn to me. “We both have the same goal, you and I.”
“I could definitely use some help from the inside.”
“From the inside?” he asked. “Oh, yes. I could help you there.” I could tell he was invoking the overtures of flirtation, and I placed my hand inside of the popcorn bag, which he snapped shut with his fingers, like the bag was biting off my hand. I squealed a little, laughing as he growled. I had no interest whatsoever in Marcus, but he definitely was fun to be around.
I glanced over at Davey and Cynthia, who were having fun over by a ring toss game. They were smiling and talking, and Davey leaned forward to whisper something in her ear. The pink threads from Cynthia were growing brighter, glowing with a confident warmth.
Davey walked over to us. He was frowning a little.
“I forgot my phone at the last ride,” he said. My heart stopped as I reached into my purse. Mine was missing, as well.
“I forgot mine in the storage box,” I said. “I can go back and get them.” Marcus leaned over and whispered something to Davey. I couldn’t tell what because he was facing away from me. Davey nodded, and he walked toward me, as if to come with.
“Oh, you don’t have to come,” I said, a tiny bit annoyed.
“No, I want to,” Davey said.
Chapter Nine
“Tell me again about your success rate,” Davey said. I looked over at him. He had his hands in his pockets, and he strolled beside me comfortably.
“Well, it only really works when the client is ready for love,” I explained.
“How does your power work?”
“I see threads. They connect everyone to each other. No matter their current relationship—stranger, friend, whomever. Depending upon the potential or the type of relationship, the thread is a different color.”
“How many people have you set up?”
“Hundreds,” I replied, shrugging. “I’m not always successful, and I do refund if I can’t help. I could force things, easily. But that would be immoral. And the forced ones never last.”
“So, you could…”
“Don’t even think about it.”
“Okay, okay.”
“It’s from experience. I helped a friend in high school with a love spell. It was super messy.” He looked at me, his eyebrow raised.
“You don’t want to know.” We reached the ferris wheel, where we had left our phones. Upon retrieving them, we ran into the waiter from the restaurant.
“It’s you!” he exclaimed. “Thank you!” The girl from the restaurant walked up beside him. He turned to her.
“This is her. This is the lady who told me to talk to you.”
“Oh my god,” the girl said.
“I would never have gotten up the guts to ask her if you hadn’t said anything,” he said.
“Thank you,” the girl gushed. “We are so happy.”
“You’re welcome,” I replied, flushing red. “It’s good to see you both. We should get going.”
“I’m so glad to see you with someone, too,” the waiter said, then stopped when he beheld Davey. “Aren’t you that actor from Days of our Lives?”
“Nah, dude. I just look like him,” Davey replied, taking my arm. We smiled at each other as we went back to where we had left Marcus and Cynthia. They were leaned up against the side of the corrugated metal wall of the ring toss, kissing passionately.
“Another success story,” Davey said incredulously.
~*~
“I’m an idiot,” I said, placing my hand on my forehead. Davey was guffawing. Now that I could see Cynthia and Marcus clearly, I could see the pink threads that bound them together. Davey was making things cloudy.
“I had a hunch that there was something between those two,” he said. “But I’m no witch.”
“Is that so?”
“Yeah. I figured I’d go with your judgment.”
“Maybe I should give you your money back, if you’re such a good…what are you, anyway?”
“A werewolf.” That made sense. He definitely had the werewolf vibes.
“Of course,” I said. “Don’t werewolves typically have a Pack to choose mates from?”
“Mine was killed. The whole Pack, except for my great aunt and myself.” He looked at me, placing his hands on my shoulders. “It was an honest mistake. I mean, maybe my one true love is already dead.”
“I don’t…I don’t know,” I said. “It’s like you’re in a fog.”
“So then, what makes you think that there’s a possibility?”
“I’ve seen threads with possible matches for you,” I said. “Nothing one hundred percent, but possibilities.”
“You know, I have faith in you,” he said, looking me in the eye. I looked back at him. His hands were still firmly on my shoulders, holding me together. “Let’s go to some more parties this weekend.”
“I can’t,” I replied. “My sister is getting married.” I felt the tingle of my grandmother’s fate spell working on me. I knew what was going to come out of my mouth before I said it.
“You want to be my Plus One?”
“Sure,” he said. He looked away, trying to play it cool, but he was excited. I could tell. It made me nervous—did Davey Allred have feelings for me?
“There will be a ton of single, respectable women there,” I promised him. He smiled, leaning forward and kissing me on the cheek. It was the most attractive thing a man had ever done. I could feel myself wanting him. I knew that I was falling for him, which, for him, meant the effects of my spell. Nobody got around my spell, even a playboy actor who was evasive when it came to his intentions for getting married.
~*~
I stood behind my sister, dressed in a horrible Bo-Peep looking yellow dress. I held her bouquet of primroses and baby’s breath for her as she said her vows. I felt sad. Everyone else could find love, but not me. When I was twelve, I had thought that by performing that spell, I would be savi
ng myself from heartache. Instead, it had merely brought it on, even prolonging it.
I looked over at Davey, who looked heart stoppingly good looking in a charcoal suit. He was looking right back at me. I figured that he was looking at the other bridesmaids.
While the threads blurred around him, I could tell which bridesmaids were definitely interested in dating Davey. I looked back, and gave him a smile. He smiled back, making my stomach lurch. I genuinely liked him, I realized.
~*~
I watched Davey at the reception, out of the corner of my peripheral vision, but all of my attention was on him. He stood for photos, joked with my stepfather and my new brother-in-law, and did silly dances with the kids. One of my sister’s friends, dressed in the same awful dress as I was, sidled over to me.
“Hey Misty,” I said.
“Hey,” she replied. “So, is there anything going on between you and Davey Allred?”
“No,” I replied. “He’s a client and a friend.”
“Okay, because I don’t want to interfere—”
“Go for it,” I replied.
“Probably safer for him,” she said, and I forced a laugh. She smiled at me, and walked confidently over to Davey. Misty was a part-time clothing model. She was tall and thin with an elegant bone structure. She had dark auburn hair and creamy pale skin that made the awful yellow bridesmaid gown look pretty.
I watched her as she stood next to Davey; they looked amazing together. I watched as she said something that made him laugh, and then felt a wave of jealousy as they walked onto the dance floor, and he pulled her close.
I couldn’t see any threads, which was strange. But I felt like the writing was on the wall, either way. There was something there. Maybe, I had finally been successful with matching Davey Allred.
~*~
Misty looked me in the eye. She was pretty. She looked like several women that I had been with in the past. I wondered if I had been with her in the past. The song that we were dancing to was some horrible 90’s era slow song. It made me feel a little sickish.
“You wanna get out of here?” Misty asked me. I thought about that for a moment, finding myself uninterested. I looked over at Penny, who stood alone beside the cake, arms wrapped around her midsection. She seemed to be lost in thought, her gaze upon the ground. She looked sad, and the part of me that was slightly puppy-like wanted to make her smile.
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