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No Shoes, No Shirt, No Spells

Page 9

by Rose Pressey


  “You’re just doing your job. I know it’s not your fault.” I placed the pie dish back into the display case. “What did he mean, I’m just like my grandmother?”

  He shook his head. “I have no idea. Mr. Wibble’s a bit eccentric.”

  “I see that.”

  Tom squeezed my hand, his warm fingers tightened around mine. “Looks like you have some work to do.”

  I massaged my temples. “I know, but with taking care of the café, when will I have time to talk with Rory and Kim?” If I didn’t talk with them, though, it wouldn’t matter if I took care of the café or not. I let out a deep breath, but it did nothing to relieve the tension building up inside me.

  We watched as Mr. Wibble drudged through the door and around the corner with the pie in one hand and his ratty old briefcase in the other. Who knew they had a whole legal system for magic? Then again, who knew they had magic? Certainly not me.

  “All of this is crazy, you know. I didn’t know anything like this existed, and now I have to navigate the magical world?”

  “You’re a smart woman, Elly. If anyone can figure it out, you can.” He winked.

  Tom offering encouragement? I barely knew him, but this seemed out of character. An aura of cockiness followed him everywhere he went, and this behavior didn’t fit that categorization.

  Visions of Grandma Imelda’s sweet face popped into my mind and I knew I had to make an attempt to straighten this mess out. Giving up wasn’t an option.

  I began devising a plan. “I guess first thing, I need to talk with Kim, she’ll be the hardest. She’s positive that fate has brought her back to Rory, and I need to convince her fate doesn’t want her here.”

  Fate or me, maybe it was both. What if Rory had no idea what he really felt? I was almost afraid to find out. What if I got an answer I didn’t want to hear? That he loved Kim and always would.

  “You have to start somewhere. And I think you’re right, Kim will be the hardest. And on that note, since I’m allowed free reign of the café, I think I’ll help myself to a slice of pie.”

  “I never said free reign,” I yelled as he walked away. He didn’t respond and I watched him saunter toward the dessert case. His backside looked good. Not that I was staring or anything. Keeping these magic people fed was going to cost me a small fortune.

  Business had slowed down and I’d just taken a moment to catch a breather when the phone rang.

  “Mystic Café, how may I help you?” I propped the phone between my ear and my chin as I sorted through receipts.

  “Elly, dear, it’s your grandmother. How’s my favorite café owner doing?” I dropped the receipts as if they were a ton of bricks.

  “Grandma, what are you doing?” I glanced around as if she was there, hiding and watching me from a distance. She and my mother had always used that ‘I’ve got eyes in the back of my head’ line. Heck, for all I knew she had a baby monitor set up to scrutinize my every move.

  “What else would I be doing? Enjoying the sunshine, of course. I played a little golf this morning with a delightful man I just met.”

  “A man? You want to tell me about this stranger? Is he safe? He’s not a serial killer, is he?”

  Her snort rang through from the other end of the line, but she quickly fell silent.

  “Wait a minute,” she said.

  “What’s wrong?” I swallowed the lump in my throat.

  “Don’t ask me what’s wrong. Why don’t you tell me what’s the matter? There’s something going on with the café, isn’t there?”

  She was good. No wonder I’d never been able to sneak around and skip high school. She’d always known when I was hiding something then, and apparently, she knew now.

  “What makes you say that? Everything is going fine. Customers have been steady and I’m following your recipes.” Did she sense the doubt in my voice?

  She sighed. “How’s the magic? I hadn’t heard from you, so I assumed there weren’t any problems, but now….”

  “You’re being paranoid, Grandma. Let me repeat, everything is fine.”

  She ignored my reassurance this time. “It’s not just bad, either, I can sense it. Have you met a man?”

  I snorted. “What? Ha, no.”

  “You have. Oh, Lordy, maybe there’s hope yet.”

  “Hope for what?”

  “Hope for a great-grandbaby.”

  “Oh, Grandma.” I gave a mirthless chuckle.

  While I had her on the phone, I needed to ask about Tom. But how would I pose the question without her knowing something was wrong?

  “You still there, Elly?”

  To ask or not to ask? There was no time for a heated internal debate.

  “Grandma, there is one thing…” I let out a deep breath and pushed forward with the question. “Maybe this is what you sensed…” I was for sure going to hell for not being honest with her. “There was a man who stopped by the café. He claimed to be from The National Organization of Magic. His name is Tom Owenton, do you know him?”

  “Oh yes, Tom. He’s so handsome. He’s a little cocky, but in a good way, if you know what I mean? I didn’t think he’d pay you a visit. Was there something wrong with the information I provided them about you?”

  “I don’t think so. He just wanted to confirm things, I guess.” Grandma probably sensed a rat. “Maybe he wanted to stop by and welcome me. Kind of like a welcoming committee?”

  “Huh…they’ve never done that in the past unless the person who discovered the magic didn’t have anyone to show them, but you have me. Oh no, did I not show you enough? Are they mad at me? It’s just you’re so smart. I knew you’d figure everything out for yourself.”

  “No, everything is fine. I promise.” Now I’d upset my grandmother. What kind of person was I?

  “Are you sure? Did Mr. Owenton say anything about a mistake I might have made?”

  Oh, he’d said plenty, but there was no way I could tell her. She’d barely gotten out of sight before I had an investigator at the café. What would she think?

  “To the contrary. He said everything looked to be in order. I just wanted to make sure he was who he claimed to be. I wanted to make sure this organization was real. There are a lot of crazies out there. You can never be too sure, you said that yourself. Remember your warning about me moving to New York?”

  “I remember, and I’m glad you’re actually listening to me. Sometimes I feel like an old woman just talking to myself.”

  “Grandma, don’t say such things. You’re not an old woman.”

  “Well, Mr. Evans certainly didn’t think I was old when we were playing golf this morning. But that’s neither here nor there.” She snickered.

  “I’m not sure if I want to hear why….”

  “To answer your questions, yes, the organization is real and Tom is exactly who he says he is. Well, that’s if he told you he’s an investigator.”

  I cringed at her words. What if the little lightbulb went off in her head? Surely she’d know they wouldn’t send an investigator unless something needed investigating. As much as I might not want to hear about her new golf buddy, a subject change was in order.

  “Tell me about your golf friend, Grandma.”

  “Enough about me,” she said. “I want to know about this man you met.”

  “Oh, look at that, here comes a customer. I’ll call you soon. Enjoy the golf.”

  “But—”

  I hung up before she uttered one more but. Not since I was eight-years-old and lied to my grandmother about climbing the big oak tree in her front yard had I felt this rotten. I plopped down at the counter, resting my head in my hands. Did I really think I could get by with withholding information from Grandma Imelda? She sniffed that stuff out better than any bloodhound.

  ****

  With my head buried in the dessert display case, cleaning out the dried remnants of whipped cream, the clearing of someone’s throat caught my attention. I spun around and almost let out a gasp when I saw Kim standing in
front of me. What was she doing in the café again? Not that I was complaining. I’d had no idea how I was going to talk with her and find out her true feelings for Rory, as Mr. Wibble had instructed me. Had fate brought her to me, or was it a little magical help from Tom? For someone who didn’t seem to like Mystic Café, she’d been in a lot.

  “You got a minute?” she asked.

  This time she wore low-rise jeans that hugged her body in all the right places. Even if some of those places could stand to be filled out a little. Her white T-shirt made her abs almost visible through the fabric. She would have looked casual if not for the extremely high wedge heels and abundance of jewelry. Why had she changed her clothing in the middle of the day? This wasn’t a fashion show.

  “Sure.” I placed the soiled towel on the counter behind me and gestured toward the table in front of us. “Have a seat.”

  “Thanks for taking the time to talk with me,” she mumbled.

  “No problem. Can I get you some coffee?” To think I thought it would be hard to talk with her. It seemed as if Kim was an open book—all I needed was to find the correct page. And she was thanking me!

  Mary Jane placed two glasses of water in front of us. I knew she wanted to hang around and overhear the conversation, but I gave her the look. The look that said: you’ll lose your cool and blow my chances. Kim probably wouldn’t talk if anyone else was around.

  “Let’s be honest, woman to woman.” She sat, crossing her long legs.

  “Okay,” I said. This probably wasn’t going to end well. A vision of her pinning me to the ground and pulling on my hair flashed through my head.

  “Do you have a thing for Rory?” She placed her hands on the table and stared me right in the eyes. She was dead serious.

  I almost choked on my water. Why hadn’t she asked me this earlier? Kim was playing games and I hadn’t been handed a set of rules.

  “At the grocery, there seemed to be something between you, a connection of sorts. The way you two stared at each other, as if you were communicating telepathically.”

  “I don’t know what you mean. We just happened to run into each other.” I twisted a napkin in my hands.

  “Please. When he thought you knocked on the window, he ran out from that store as if someone had yelled fire. Are you trying to take him away from me? If so, I warn you things will get ugly.” She glared at me. Her emerald eyes grew darker.

  The thought of finding a spell to turn her into a toad crossed my mind. Lucky for her, it wasn’t an option. She could use a little time-out. Basking in the sun, eating a few flies for a couple hours might make her tone down the sassiness. A tinge of guilt immediately washed over me. I should be ashamed. Magic was for good only. But I still chuckled to myself when the vision of Kim as a toad ran through my mind.

  “I’m not trying to take him away from you, if that’s what you think,” I said, grinding my teeth ever so slightly.

  She stared for a beat, then continued. “Well, good. I’m glad we have that settled.”

  “Is that it? That’s all you had to say?” I met her gaze. Backing down and allowing her to think she could intimidate me wasn’t an option.

  “Pretty much. I’ve spoken my piece, don’t you think? I won’t let anything stand in my way with Rory.” She knitted her eyebrows together. “Or anyone.”

  “Oh, really? That sounds pretty harsh.” I folded my arms across my chest.

  “Sometimes I have to be that way. It’s my character. But I get things done and I get what I want. Always.” She smirked. Her lip-gloss sparkled under the overhead light.

  “Let me ask you a question, since we are being honest and talking woman to woman. Where do you see yourself five years from now? With Rory, and married? Do you have children? A home with a white picket fence? Is that what you want? No offense, but you seem like a party girl and not exactly the soccer mom type. You seem like someone who wouldn’t want to be tied down with a husband and children.”

  She picked at the napkin in front of her. “Well, I guess I hadn’t thought of that part.”

  Her wheels were turning, I knew by the sickened expression on her face. I continued with my strategy. “I don’t think it would be fair to Rory if that’s what he wants and you want something entirely different. He doesn’t seem like the partying type. Not that I know him, mind you.” I was treading dangerous waters here. “He’s probably rather dull, actually.”

  She sat up straighter. “He is not. Why, he likes to do all kinds of things. He’s very adventurous.”

  “Really? Name one thing he wanted to do that you wanted to do that seemed adventurous.”

  “Well, we, well.” She paused. “I guess I can’t think of anything. Still, Rory isn’t dull.”

  Okay. I sensed Rory wasn’t dull, but anyone that wasn’t wild would seem tame to her, so I needed to plant that seed in her mind. With any luck, it would grow into a giant tree and she’d abandon her mission.

  “He likes this town, so I hope you enjoy living here. I doubt you’ll get him to move. Where did you say you’re living now?”

  Mary Jane watched as she wiped off a table next to us. She was like a pit bull waiting for her attack command.

  “I didn’t. But I moved to New York City.” She waved off my question as if swatting at a fly.

  I tut-tutted and shook my head. “No way.”

  “No way, what?” Her brows furrowed and her eyes narrowed to slits.

  “No way will he move to a big city. He’s a small-town boy. I think you should really think this over before you give up all your hopes and dreams. You do have hopes and dreams, right? I mean, a girl as smart as you must have.”

  She nodded. “I do have dreams. I plan on being a fashion designer.”

  “See, you can’t really do that while living in Mystic Hollow. I guess you’ll have to give it all up to live here. Hey, I know.” I straightened in my chair and leaned forward. “I could really use some help here at the café, you could wait tables. Mary Jane would show you the ropes. Tips are good with the morning crowd and, as pretty as you are, I bet you’d make a ton.”

  She jumped up. “You think you’re so smart. I know what you’re trying to do. You don’t want me to be with Rory. You want him for yourself. Well, I won’t let you have him. He’ll move to the city with me, you wait and see. And keep away from my man, or else.” She pointed a French-manicured nail in my face.

  Mary Jane inched closer to our table like a cat waiting to pounce. Kim turned in a whirl and stormed out the door.

  I turned to Mary Jane and she shook her head. “That wasn’t so good, huh? I wasn’t very convincing.”

  “No, not really. But the part about working here was great. Tips from the morning crowd are good.” She nodded.

  “Everything I said was the truth. There’s no way he’ll leave Mystic Hollow for her.” I studied her face for a reaction. “Is there?”

  She managed a shrug. “I don’t know, honey. I stopped trying to figure out men a long time ago. And if you’re wise, you’ll stop, too.”

  That was probably the best advice Mary Jane had ever given me. But it was easier said than done with someone like Rory. His dimples set my stomach on fire and I lost all reasonable thought. The spicy scent his body exuded set off tiny tickles in the pit of my stomach and his gorgeous eyes made me weak at the knees. I was doomed.

  “I hope she doesn’t convince him to leave before I can reverse the spell. I will be able to reverse it, right?” I was full of questions. If I didn’t have the answers, I wasn’t sure why I expected Mary Jane to have them. But I needed reassurance, even if it was a lie.

  “Sure, of course. It’ll happen soon enough. It’s certainly not for your lack of trying, that’s for sure.”

  Had I really tried? Maybe this just proved magic wasn’t in the cards for me.

  “Thanks for helping out extra around here today. I needed the time to talk with Kim. I’m just surprised she came here. I thought I’d have to chase her down.” I replaced the coffee pot an
d stood next to Mary Jane at the register.

  “Sometimes trouble has a way of tracking you down, I guess.” Mary Jane wrapped her arm around me squeezed my shoulders.

  Yes, sometimes trouble did have a way of finding me.

  I poured a cup of coffee for the man who’d just sat down. With his slumped shoulders and the dark circles under his eyes, he seemed as if he could use a little perking up. I’d make sure to give him a little magic in whatever food he ordered. Simple magic spells was the only thing for me. Nothing complex like fixing screw-ups.

  Chapter Twenty

  I crossed my arms in front of my chest. I didn’t know what else to do with myself. If only I’d had a chance to comb my hair before he showed up looking gorgeous. Rory’s jeans and T-shirt hugged every muscle. It was a nice look for him. He looked darn good in a tight pair of Levi’s, but he probably looked delicious in everything he put on…and didn’t put on, too. Oh my, the question popped into my head: boxers or briefs? No, I had to clear my mind.

  Silence hung in the air. What else was there to say? I studied the cute little scar above Rory’s right eyebrow and wondered how he’d gotten it. What I wanted to know most though, was who Rory was. What he liked and disliked. What he did for fun and how his lips tasted.

  “Can I get you a slice of pie?” Small talk was not one of my better skills. But I was almost giddy with the knowledge that soon the spell might be reversed. All Rory needed to do was enjoy one little slice of pie.

  Then I remembered what Mr. Wibble said. Rory eating the pie wasn’t enough. Was there a chance Mr. Wibble could be wrong? What if the pie was enough? Though if it were that simple, wouldn’t Tom have told me to do that in the first place? In spite of not wanting to know Rory’s feelings for Kim, I had to follow my orders. Find out if he wanted Kim. Truly wanted her.

  “I hate to say this…but no.” Rory moved closer.

  “Oh, not in the mood for flaky-crusted cherry goodness?” Butterflies frolicked in my stomach.

  He shook his head. “No, no pie for me.”

  I studied the imperfections in the hardwood floor and shuffled my foot. “So, if you’re not here for pie, what other reason is there?”

 

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