Bewitching You

by Estrella, Viola

  “How often have your dreams been wrong?”

  “They’ve always come true. Every one of them.” Unless she prevented them from happening, like the anticipated murder of the elderly woman a few months back. Sofia was able to give enough information to the police to let them know it was going to happen, anonymously, of course.

  Nana had told Sofia about what had happened to their ancestors when their gifts had been discovered. They were deemed witches and then executed. Times had changed, thank goodness, but society still wasn’t quite ready to accept the types of gifts Sofia and her female family members possessed.

  “Well, there you go,” her mother said, breaking her thoughts. “Go get yourself laid. But be sure to be back by suppertime. I’m making a new recipe I found in Woman’s Day.” She gave Sofia a quick nod, stood, and put her dish in the sink. “If you need me, I’ll be repainting the side of the house. What do you think of a tree full of plump, juicy purple plums? I heard through the grapevine those are pretty popular in this neighborhood.”

  This time Sofia allowed herself a full eye roll. Obviously Herbert Lawrence had some sort of objection to plums.

  “What? You think you’re the only artist in the family?”

  Before Sofia could argue, her mother was on her way out the front door. The woman wasn’t going to stop until Herbert had a full head of grey hair, but Sofia wasn’t going to concern herself with that today. She had other things to worry about.

  Maybe her mom had a point. What would be the harm in hunting her dream man down to speed things up a bit? Well, other than Sofia getting her feelings hurt, big time. How long would he be a jerk? And for what reason?

  There’s only one way to find out, Sofe.

  Without another thought, she threw away the rest of the pizza, rinsed out her coffee cup and headed to the laptop she shared with her mother. It sat on the large, dark walnut desk in the den, where the readings took place.

  She settled into the black leather chair in front of the desk. A cold breeze ran up her spine. Her skin prickled, and she sat paralyzed for a moment. She’d never get used to that feeling—knowing a spirit was in the room with her. Sensing their presence happened quite often, since the ability to conjure up spirits was one of her mother’s gifts. What better place for them to hang out and wait for their turn?

  Thank goodness Sofia didn’t have that particular talent. She’d seen enough of the deceased in her sleep.

  Warmth returned to her body and the hairs on the back of her neck finally settled, so she continued with the task at hand—finding Gray.

  Grayson Phillips, she typed in the search bar and hit enter. A vast list of websites popped up, but the very first one answered her question.

  Linden Advertising, it said and underneath it read Grayson Phillips, Creative Department.

  “Well, that was easy,” Sofia said, wondering why she hadn’t thought to do this before. “I found you, Mr. Phillips.”

  ~ * ~

  Gray switched on the lights to his office and maneuvered his foam poster boards through the door. All of his work for Bud B’s Burger Restaurant’s new “healthy food line” ad was carefully attached. One week’s work, after Linden had shot down the PowerPoint presentation, saying that’s not how they did things around here.

  Linden was as old-school as they came. Gray wondered if the man would even own a computer if he didn’t have to accept incoming email from clients. He also wondered how this place stayed in business if Linden refused to accept change.

  Updating the technology was the first thing Gray planned to do once he got his promotion. Until then, he was stuck with these damn poster boards.

  One week… That was all the time Linden had given him to find a way to make this crap seem tempting enough to eat.

  Lord only knew how it would digest.

  As always, Gray found it hard to believe in the product he was trying so hard to make appealing to other people. Just as long as Bud B. likes it enough. Then he knew Linden would have to give him the promotion to Director. Not that that job was any more tolerable, merely a step up the food chain.

  If his life had turned out differently, would he even be here? Would he be striving to get a promotion in a career he was growing to loathe?

  The answer was irrelevant. In a perfect world, Gray would be on a boat with Hayes, sailing along the California coast. That was what they’d been planning since they were in grade school, and they’d been well on their way to accomplishing it.

  With their lifetime savings, Hayes had gotten on an airplane, met with a realtor, and with Gray’s approval, purchased a two-bedroom loft in the San Francisco bay area. They’d planned on meeting there to start looking at sailboats…before Hayes died.

  The world wasn’t perfect, Gray had found out. It was downright cruel. Now he didn’t want anything to do with that alternate universe, the one where it didn’t hurt to think of a carefree life.

  He set the boards gently against the wall to take another look at the finished product. The photos he’d gotten of the so-called guilt-free fast food were horrendous, so he’d taken it upon himself to design a few pictures to go with the whole ad campaign, which would plaster billboards all over Indiana and the rest of the continental United States. Hopefully.

  Think positive, Gray. He didn’t simply want this promotion; he needed it.

  The door swung open as Gray leaned down to check out a small smudge he hadn’t noticed before, and his colleague—the only competition for the promotion—walked in. Patrick Beaver had slicked back blond hair, a large white-toothed smile, and an impressive collection of pastel colored silk ties. He had a homely, nonthreatening-looking wife who brought in brownies every week and knew how to make small talk with Linden and his homely wife.

  Yeah, Patrick Beaver was somewhat of a threat and anything but a friend.

  “Phillips,” he said with that idiotic toothy smile, “you ready for the big presentation?”

  Gray stood to his full height and jutted out his chin. “Absolutely. Couldn’t be more ready.”

  “Excellent.” Beaver gave a nod as he arched his brow. “Is that it?”

  “It is.” Gray crossed his arms in front of him, daring him to say anything else.

  Beaver yawned excessively and shrugged. “Good luck, then. You’re going to need it. I’ve heard Bud B. isn’t easily impressed.” He winked and shut the door behind him before Gray could respond.

  Nice tactic, fucker. It had worked. Patrick Beaver had successfully made Gray more nervous, if that were possible. He rolled his head from side to side to relieve some tension.

  Get it together, Phillips. You can do this.

  Just then, the speakerphone beeped and the creative department’s assistant said, “Mr. Phillips, Ms. Rachel Spencer is on line two for you.”

  “Thank you, Sandy,” Gray called out. This was odd. Rachel hardly ever called him at home, much less at work. Maybe something was wrong with the wedding planning. Hell, maybe she’d come to her senses and wanted to call it off altogether.

  Gray held his breath and pressed the button that lit up line two. He didn’t want to think about the reasons why he was more worried about being late for his presentation than the possible demise of his relationship with his fiancée.

  “Rachel?”

  “Hi, Grayson,” she said in soft, shaky voice. “I know you have that presentation, but I really need to talk to you.”

  “It can’t wait?”

  “I’d like to talk about it now, if you don’t mind?” She paused for a moment, probably waiting for Gray to give her his permission to go on, but he remained quiet, waiting to hear what she had to say next.

  “Um,” she continued. “I was thinking about Hayes.”

  “Hayes?” Gray hadn’t heard his brother’s name from her mouth since before his twin’s funeral, and he sure the hell didn’t want to hear it now, from anyone.

  “You called me to talk about Hayes?”

  “Yes.” She paused again. “Maybe right now
isn’t a good time to talk about this after all.”

  “Maybe not.”

  “I’m sorry I bothered you at work.”

  “No bother, but you know that he’s not exactly my favorite topic of conversation.”

  “I know. I’ll see you this evening for dinner?” she asked, her voice still shaky.

  “Yes, and be prepared for good news.”

  “Can’t wait.”

  Gray hung up the phone and leaned on his desk. The clock on the wall said he had less than ten minutes to get to the presentation room and set up. Time to focus. He took another once-over at his boards and carefully picked them up. The speech and slogan he’d prepared rolled through his mind, but didn’t have that punch they had the last time he’d read them.

  Oh, fuck.

  “Focus, Gray,” he whispered to himself.

  His phone beeped again as he reached for the doorknob. “Mr. Phillips, there’s a Sofia Good here to see you,” Sandy said through the speaker. “She doesn’t have an appointment but she insists it’s important. Would you like me to send her back?”

  Gray clenched his eyes shut and tried not to get a mental image of her...all of her.

  What the hell did she want from him?

  Chapter Five

  “Go right in,” the perky blonde said to Sofia, as she pointed to a door flanked by two windows.

  Gray was frowning through one of them as he shut the blinds.

  That probably wasn’t a good sign for what was to come. Too bad she couldn’t have dreamed of this, so she could prepare herself.

  What was the worst that could happen? Well, other than ruining her own destiny. She rubbed her clammy hands together, ignored the tight uncomfortable knot in her stomach, and briskly walked to the door, giving it two hard knocks.

  He opened it right away and gestured for her to walk in. Sofia smelled his musky, smooth cologne as she brushed by him, since he hadn’t given her much room to walk through. He looked impressive in his charcoal suit and striped navy and red tie. Sofia supposed it would have to be professionally tailored, since he was such a big guy.

  Tall and muscled like an athlete. From head to… She shook the familiar naked image of him out of her head.

  His office was typical with a desk, a computer, a small bookcase to the side filled with nonfiction marketing and advertising books, a picture of his stupid fiancée on his desk, and sadly, no windows to let in any sunlight. How depressing.

  Fluorescent lights lit up the room, and Sofia wondered if this were partly why he was such a butthead. A vitamin D deficiency could do that to a person, ya know?

  “What do you want, Sofia?” he asked.

  “You’re not very polite,” Sofia muttered under her breath. She wrapped her arms around herself and looked anywhere but into his cold eyes. Poster boards were sitting against the wall decorated with sketches of weird looking hamburgers and French fries.

  “Excuse me?” he asked.

  “Did you draw those?”

  “What do you want?” he repeated, not making any effort to answer her.

  “I draw too. And paint.”

  His lips twitched to what might have been a start of a smile, but then flattened out again.

  “Listen. I’m sorry if I was the reason you were fired from your job. Is that why you’re here? Do you want some sort of compensation?”

  “What?” She finally met his dark, gloomy gaze and saw only a stranger. “No, I thought maybe we could become friends, since we have something in common.”

  “Do you mean the dreams?” He leaned against his desk and crossed his arms, his eyes narrowing in on her.

  Sofia crossed hers tighter. Two could play at that game. “Yes, I’m assuming you have them as well. Is that right?”

  “I do, and I want them to stop. I’m getting married in a month, and I don’t need or want to be dreaming of a woman who isn’t in my future.”

  Don’t roll your eyes, Sofe. If he only knew.

  “How can I say this?” She pondered for a moment whether to tell him about her gift, but thought not. Gray didn’t seem to be the open-minded type. But she wasn’t sure how else to get her point across, or how she could convince him to spend more time with her so he could fall in love with her… If that were even possible.

  “I’ve got a meeting to get to. Why don’t you just tell me what I have to do to get rid of these dreams?” He edged toward her with his perfect lips pursed into a thin line. His hands fisted at his sides. Sheesh. Where inside him did the gentle man from her dreams exist?

  “I can’t get rid of them.” She started to back away. Her hands itched to swipe the perspiration from her forehead, but she kept them at her sides.

  “Can’t or won’t? What is it you want from me?”

  “I, uh—” She found the wall behind her and stared up at him as he moved within centimeters.

  Her heartbeat thrummed through her veins and pulsed heavy in her head. She couldn’t think. The loving man from her dreams was so close, yet still out of reach.

  Minutes passed, it seemed, as he stared at her with a cool dark eyes.

  Finally, he lifted his finger and brushed it across her bottom lip.

  Sofia froze, startled by his touch.

  “Do you know what I do to you, what you do to me in these dreams?” A familiar spark of hunger flashed through his eyes, but other than that, it was difficult to describe the look on his face.

  “Yes. I know exactly what we both do.” She pressed her hand to his chest for two reasons—to keep him from getting any closer and to see if he, at least, felt like the man from her dreams.

  He did. He was warm and really solid, and his heart beat ferociously under his crisp shirt. As he lowered his head down to her lips, Sofia inhaled his familiar scent. It was her Gray. And yet it wasn’t.

  His lips lightly brushed her mouth, and she closed her eyes, reveling in the possibilities.

  Should she kiss him? Grab him by his neck and force it? Was she going to fight for him? Was it worth it?

  It was. She knew it was, but before she could do anything or say anything, his lips grazed her ear.

  “Did you know?” He paused to pull in a breath.

  “What? Did I know what?” Her fingers trembled against his chest as she forced herself to hold them still when they so wanted to touch every part of him.

  “Did you know that you…that you had my cock in your mouth last night?” He whispered and stood motionless.

  A sharp breath gushed from her lips at the bluntness of his words. Yep, she’d had that dream as well. The act had been loving and meaningful. Not a tawdry affair between strangers. Not like how he was treating her today.

  Damn him. The only explanation for his behavior was he was trying to scare her away. He wasn’t ready for her yet. But she was too stubborn to give up now. She wouldn’t leave here without letting him know that he didn’t break her.

  “Did I like it?” She bravely skimmed her hand down to his noticeable erection. At least this part of him wanted her. In time he’d grow to love her. Fate would show them the way.

  Before she could grasp him, he grabbed both of her hands and pinned them above her head. He pressed her body against the wall with his steely frame. His muscled leg slid between her thighs.

  Her body reacted, both startled by the sudden invasion and thrilled to have him so close. Her legs trembled against his as her pulse thrummed. She licked her lips, waited for his next move. Would he kiss her?

  A myriad of emotions passed over his face, none of them soothing. “Is this what you want, Sofia? Do you want me to fuck you? Will that stop the goddamn dreams?”

  She tensed, mortified. Her stomach flip-flopped, sick with disappointment. But she was not going to cry. She wasn’t going to let him win. “I wish I could stop them,” she said, gritting her teeth. “I wish I dreamed of a different man, a man who wasn’t a piece of work.”

  “Then you have to stop them.”

  “I can’t!” Her eyes burned with unwant
ed tears. Damn it.

  “Why not?”

  “Because I dream of the future, you ass. And apparently you do, too, now.”

  Well, that did the trick. He released her hands and stepped away, shaking his head. “Please, just leave,” he said in a low voice, as he reached for the door handle. “I don’t want to see you anymore.”

  “Fine with me.” Sofia regrouped by sniffing back her tears and heading toward the door.

  Maybe this would prevent her future with this…this jerk from happening. Maybe the dreams would stop now. Because letting him touch her again was the last thing she ever wanted to do.

  But before she could yank the door open, he grabbed her arm and stopped her from leaving.

  “Hey,” he whispered softly, confusing her. “I’m sorry I made you cry. I didn’t… I’m just sorry. But you’re not the woman for me.”

  Sofia tore her arm from his loose grasp, but didn’t dare look up at him. He didn’t deserve to ever see her again. “I hope you’re right,” she said, and left.

  ~ * ~

  With his pulse pounding at his neck, Gray watched Sofia rush through the lobby and hit the elevator down button repeatedly. She didn’t look back when the doors opened and then closed behind her.

  He’d hurt her. And, damn, seeing her shake, seeing her eyes tear up, had knotted something inside of him. His stupid fucking mouth. He hadn’t expected tears. He hadn’t expected to regret pushing her away. It was easier to pretend she was of no importance when she was simply a vision in his head. But each new second he spent with her in reality forced him to recognize she was more than that. Much more. She was a human being with feelings. And he’d purposely pulverized them.

  Gray knew better than that. Even if she was a little nuts, thinking she could dream of the future, he should’ve handled the situation better.

  Instead, he’d been cruel.

  What the hell was wrong with him? What was he becoming? He’d never treated a woman that poorly. Truth be told, in the past he’d been considered the nice twin. Friends had gone to him when they needed a shoulder to lean on. They’d gone to Hayes to have a good time.