Bewitching You

by Estrella, Viola

  Barbie visibly relaxed. Her body slumped and one of her spaghetti straps fell off her shoulders.

  With her hand still up, Nana said, “You will invite us in to sit while you retrieve your husband.”

  “Come in. I’ll get Andrew,” Barbie said and walked away, her flip-flops clomping on the tiled floor.

  “It really works. How the heck did you do that?” Sofia whispered to Nana and followed her to the sofa in the living room.

  “I’ll teach you all you want to know later. Just watch, dear. It’ll be fun.”

  “Goddamnit!” Andrew Dashmoor’s voice echoed across the mansion, followed by heavy footsteps down the stairs. “Where is that little bitch? I’ll show her what I’m made of.”

  Barbie tagged behind him meekly, as Mr. Dashmoor, red-faced, charged into the living room. His hairy stomach protruded over his swimming trunks. A white terrycloth robe barely covered the rest of his body.

  Nana stood in front of Sofia. “Hello, Andy,” she said, smiling.

  “Who the hell are you?”

  “I’m right. And you are wrong.” Nana put up her hand again, but this time reaching it out toward Dashmoor’s face.

  “What the hell?”

  “Calm down.” Nana wiggled her fingers and, again, the black drained from the onyx ring. “You will call your airline right now to cancel flight 221, leaving tomorrow at 4:45 PM from Denver to Aspen, Colorado.”

  He froze, looking bewildered.

  Nana’s eyes were huge and unblinking. “You will call right now and cancel flight 221.”

  “Barb, where’s my phone?”

  Barbie grabbed the cordless off the corner desk and brought it to him. He paused for a moment, a perplexed expression on his face.

  “Flight 221 leaving tomorrow from Denver to Aspen, Colorado,” Nana repeated. “You will cancel it. You will have your mechanics do a thorough inspection, and you will have it fixed.”

  Dashmoor dialed a number, asked for a certain person and repeated Nana’s orders.

  Sofia stifled a smile. This power would so come in handy.

  When he hung up, both Mr. and Mrs. Dashmoor stared at Nana blankly, as if waiting for more direction.

  She obliged them. “Barbie, you will have confidence in yourself, and you will never settle for less than your worth.” She turned. “Andrew, you will have your airplanes inspected on a regular basis, and you will not send the airplane for flight 221 up in the air until it is completely safe to fly.”

  After clapping her hands once, she dropped them to her side. “Sofia, are you ready?”

  “Uh, yeah. Is that it?” Sofia whispered.

  “Yes, dear. They’ll snap out of it when we leave. I’ll do a little spell to make them forget we were here.”

  “You can do that too?”

  “Sometimes. Their minds are very pliable.” She nodded to the couple, who were still standing like zombies. “Easily persuaded. And they live for themselves, so it’s easy for them to forget other people.”

  “Interesting. You can tell that by mind reading?”

  “That and instinct. Shall we go?”

  Sofia smiled at her grandmother. “Yes. Thank you, Nana.”

  “You’re welcome. Now, let’s get me out of all this electricity. My head’s starting to throb.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Sofia brushed the finishing touches on her latest painting, focusing on how the tiny lines by his eye creased just so when he smiled. She’d tried her damnedest to paint something or someone other than Gray, but he was the muse occupying her mind, day and night.

  A week and a half had passed and she hadn’t seen or heard from him. She hadn’t dreamed of him either. In fact, she hadn’t dreamed of anything at all. Which was relieving in one aspect, and heartbreaking in another. It meant thirty-five people’s lives had been saved. It also meant Gray wasn’t in her future.

  The spell had faded, and so had his love for her.

  These paintings were a pathetic attempt to keep him close.

  Why hadn’t her love for him dissolved? If anything, it had grown. She missed him.

  Everything about him. His smile, his laugh, his touch, his kiss. She even missed the manly-man attitude.

  Absence makes the heart grow fonder, right?

  “I always hated that saying,” she mumbled under her breath.

  Her cell phone rang from on top of her bed, and she jumped for it. The caller ID said Madeleine. Of course it wasn’t Gray. Why would he call?

  “Hey, Maddy, what’s up?” Madeleine was her best friend and her own personal mechanic. Sofia always returned the favors by painting artwork and murals for her home.

  “Are you still sulking? If you are, stop now. I have the greatest news.” Madeleine’s voice was husky but beautiful. It matched her tomboy slash model-gorgeous appearance.

  “What, André agreed to hire me back on?”

  Maddy’s breath gushed into the phone. “No, I’m sorry. But guess what? He bought that empty building by the restaurant. You know, the one where bums used to hide out?”

  “Yeah. What is he going to do with it?”

  “He’s going to turn it into an art gallery for local artists! He said he thought it would be a good way to attract customers. I hope you’re not mad, but I told him how talented you are. And he wants to know if you’ll show your art for the grand opening. Isn’t that great?”

  Sofia gulped down the panic rising in her throat. “Uh, I don’t know.”

  “Come on, Sofe. Your paintings are brilliant. I don’t know why you’re afraid to show them.”

  Sofia took in a deep breath. The thought of sharing her passion with the public was petrifying. Painting as a hobby was safe, entirely different from setting it up on display for possible rejection and humiliation.

  “What could be the worst that could happen?”

  “I could have a panic attack, throw up, and be laughed out of the building.”

  “Sofia, that’s silly. Think of it this way—what’s the best that could happen?”

  “I’ll have something to worry about other than Gray?”

  “Now there’s the Sofia I know and love.” Madeleine laughed. “Will you please come? I’ll take you out for drinks afterward. We’ll have a girl’s night out. Maybe you’ll meet another guy. How’s that sound?”

  “Fine,” Sofia forced herself to say. “I’ll do it.”

  ~ * ~

  “Thanks for looking after the place, Mr. Lowell.” Gray took the key from the hand of the elderly man who was apparently Gray’s new San Francisco neighbor. Now, how to get rid of him? Gray was eager to see the place Hayes had chosen for them to live.

  “It was no problem, son. Sorry, again, about your brother. Quite a shame.”

  “Yep. But he sure the hell knew how to live while he was here.” Gray patted Mr. Lowell on the back. Neither Gray nor Hayes needed any pity. Not when Hayes had moved on to a better place, and Gray had so much to live for.

  The old man wedged his white disheveled eyebrows together. “I suppose. Glad to see you’ve passed the grieving stage.”

  “Absolutely. Hayes wanted me to be happy. I’m going to make him proud.”

  “Well, then, I’ll see you around.” Mr. Lowell almost turned to leave, but stopped. “Will you have someone to live with you, by any chance?”

  “Honestly, I’m not sure I’ll be keeping the place. I may need to sell it. I’ve got another residence in Indianapolis.”

  “Better weather here.”

  “You’re right about that.” Gray loved this city. Whether it was sunny and bright or chilly and foggy. It was a hell of a lot better than the biting cold winters Indiana produced. Not to mention the scenery here was breathtaking. “I’m going to spend a few days revisiting my old stomping grounds before I make my decision.”

  “Good. Oh, and Hayes left a note for you inside. I didn’t read it, though.”

  “Thanks again, Mr. Lowell.” Gray gave the man another gentle pat. “See you around.” />
  Anticipation sped up Gray’s heart as he unlocked the door and stepped inside. Hayes had left him a note, huh? His last words from his brother. He hoped they were good ones.

  To Gray’s delight and surprise, the place was mostly furnished. When had Hayes had the time or the money to do this?

  The downstairs area was laid out much like their condo in Indianapolis. Open, with the living room, dining area and kitchen revealed as you walked in. The furniture wasn’t much different either. All leather, dark wood, and heavy glass. Masculine. Instead of it being a single story, to the left was a modern winding staircase that must lead up to the two bedrooms.

  The square footage here lacked in comparison to the other place. The price, however, was twice as much as the Indianapolis condo. Even after the supposed good deal they’d gotten for presenting most of the money up front.

  Ah, well. It was worth it. At least, it would have been. The loft was only a few minutes from the bay. And the view of the city, Gray noticed, was spectacular.

  The piece of paper on the dark granite kitchen counter caught his attention. Hayes.

  What did his brother have to say? Gray picked it up with trembling hands. He sat on the bar stool, took a deep breath, and read:

  Gray,

  What do you think? Hope you like the furniture, dude. I figured I couldn’t go wrong if I chose most of the same shit we have at our other place. It’s pretty cool, right? Call me and let me know what you think of your bedroom, though. It’s nothing like your chick-repellent at home. I know you don’t like surprises, but I just had to do it. Our lives are about to change like you would not believe.

  Love you, man. Can’t wait to set sail!

  Hayes (the cool twin)

  Gray closed his burning eyes and smiled to himself. This was the Hayes he wanted to remember. Giving, loving, and funny as hell. This was the Hayes he’d keep in his heart. His brother—he’d live and thrive in Gray’s memory.

  Forever.

  He set the paper back down and combed a hand through his hair. “I love you, too, Hayes,” he whispered, given there might be the slightest chance his brother could hear him. “Now, what did you do to my bedroom?”

  Gray wandered up the stairs to the door that had a sticky note that read, Gray’s room. He slid the partition door open, looked inside, and swallowed down the knot that rose up his throat.

  One thing was very clear. He couldn’t sell this place.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Sofia tried not to wobble in her heels or worry about the sweat beading on her forehead as people walked by her paintings. They mused, whispered, and moved on to the next. Some smiled, some ignored her.

  Some asked for directions to the bathroom.

  She was happy to see familiar faces when Nana, her mother, and Herbert strolled up, looking all spiffy and proud.

  Herbert held her mom’s hand. They’d been on a few dates in the past month. Her mom had told him every secret and every aspect of their family’s gifts in excruciating detail. Sofia had wondered if her mother had wanted to scare Herbert off. In any case, he was still around. A few more grey hairs, but still sticking it out.

  “It’s because he loves her,” Nana whispered into Sofia’s ear.

  Damn the mind reading.

  “And your paintings are wonderful, dear,” Nana said for everyone to hear.

  “They really are,” her mother agreed.

  Herbert nodded. “Outstanding.”

  “Thank you.” Sofia’s cheeks flamed. She’d picked out a few of her best to display, but only one of Gray. It was the painting he’d liked the most, where their bodies were entangled.

  Even after two months, it still hurt to think of him. Where was he? What was he doing? Did he ever think of her?

  A week ago, she’d gathered the nerve to go to his condo and knock on his door. She’d wanted to invite him to the gallery opening. Just as a friend, if nothing else. A teenage boy had answered the door instead. He’d told her he and his mother had moved in several days prior. He wasn’t sure where the old owner had relocated.

  Sofia had been devastated. Shoot, she still was. How could he have moved without telling her? He must’ve really wanted to rid himself of her. Forget she ever existed.

  Her mother and Herbert ambled on to view some of the other artwork the local artists had created and displayed along the walls and tables.

  But Nana stayed. Her eyes were plastered to that painting. “Where do you suppose that dream took place?”

  “Nowhere.” Sofia didn’t want to get into it. That part of her life was over.

  “Red sheets. A gold comforter. Deep blue walls in the background. Have you ever seen this bedroom before? Was it his?”

  “No, Nana.” Sofia tried not to sound too irritated. “I don’t want to talk about it, if you don’t mind.”

  “Well, why not?” Nana chuckled. “It’s your future.”

  “It’s not, though. I haven’t dreamed of him since the spell faded.”

  “Oh. Do you think maybe the future was altered in some way?”

  Sofia stopped an eye-roll midway. They’d been over this too many times to count. Was her grandmother growing senile? “Yes, Nana. I can only assume it’s been altered, and that we weren’t supposed to meet until later.”

  “And the love spell screwed it all up?”

  Sofia shrugged, not wanting to hurt her Nana’s feelings. But, yes, the love spell had done its damage. Gray was gone, out of her life forever.

  “We can do a spell to erase your love for him, Sofia. If that would help you.”

  “No, thank you.” She was done with spells that played with emotions. She’d been practicing hard, learning the ones that would help her with her visions. Saving people’s lives was how she planned to use them. Any other approach would only get her into trouble, she’d learned the hard way.

  “I hate to see you upset.”

  “I’m fine, Nana. Why don’t you catch up with Mom and Herbert? I heard there’s some sculptures of naked men just around the corner.”

  “Hmm… I’ll see where the punch is instead. Would you like some? I’ll add a little vodka from my flask, if you want?”

  Sofia shook her head.

  “All right then, dear.” Nana leaned forward and whispered, “Good-looking gentleman right behind you. I think he likes the paintings.” She winked and left.

  Anxious at the thought it might be Gray, Sofia turned too quickly on her heels and fell into the man.

  The tall, thin gentleman—who definitely was not Gray—grabbed her elbow and steadied her. “You okay?”

  “Yes.” Her cheeks warmed. “I’m so sorry. I’m not used to these shoes.”

  “It’s all right.” He smiled and turned to her paintings again. “Are these yours?”

  “Uh huh.” Sofia took in the way his deep green eyes found the different details of the paintings. Like Nana said, he was good-looking. But he was no Gray, and it appeared he was more interested in the stuff on the walls than the stuff under her dress, anyway.

  Which was fine with her. She couldn’t imagine giving herself to anyone else. Not anytime in the near or far future. She was Gray’s. Plain and simple, whether she ever saw him again or not.

  “You have quite a talent,” the man said.

  “Thank you.”

  “Have you gone to art school?”

  “For a year in New York. I had to drop out. Family issues.”

  “I see.” He finally met her eyes. “Do you ever think of going back?”

  “I’d love to.” Sofia smiled at the thought. “But I don’t think I can afford it.”

  “Yes, it is expensive, isn’t it?” He held out his hand for her to shake. “I’m Steven Burns. I’m an admissions counselor for San Francisco Bay Art School.”

  Sofia shook his hand. “I’m Sofia Good. Nice to meet you. You’re a long way from home.”

  “I’m visiting my mother,” he whispered. “She’s getting remarried again. Fifth time.”

&n
bsp; “Ah. Sorry about that.”

  “No, it’s fine. Whatever keeps her happy. But I heard about this gallery opening and thought I’d check it out. I’m glad I came.” He pulled out a card and handed it to her. “We have financial aid I’m sure you could qualify for, if you’re interested. We’re also giving away a few scholarships this year. You might be a candidate for one of them. Why don’t you visit us and see what we’re about? We need more people like you, Sofia. People with natural talent and obvious passion.” He pointed at that painting. “There are graduates who don’t have your eye for detail. Give us a try, okay?”

  Sofia realized her mouth had dropped open, so she shut it and gulped. “Okay. I’ll do my best. Thank you.”

  “See you out there then, Sofia. I’ll be looking for you.”

  ~ * ~

  Gray sat in the coffee house that housed the first floor of his San Francisco loft. He hauled out his laptop and started his workday. Designing websites. Why he’d never thought of it before he didn’t know. People paid him to play around on his computer all day, and he had no one to answer to but his customers. It was perfect. And he was good at it. Business was flourishing.

  “What’s up, Gray?” his new buddy, Nick, asked as he walked in the door and pulled up a seat at the table next to him. Nick had given him the idea of starting his own business. The surfer/genius spent half his day on the computer and the other half on a surfboard in the ocean.

  Gray hoped to one day spend half his day on a sailboat. As soon as he found the right one.

  “Not much, Nick. Just got two new accounts I’m going to start working on.”

  “Awesome.” He sipped on his iced coffee and gave Gray a look. “I didn’t see you at the party last night. Kari was very upset she didn’t get to meet you.”

  “I was busy.” Gray logged onto the Internet and started reading through his emails, hoping to pass right over this conversation.

  “Dude,” Nick leaned over and said in a low voice, “you know you can tell me if you’re gay. I’m totally cool with that.”

  “I’m not gay,” Gray said for the umpteenth time since he’d met Nick. “I like women, trust me. I’m just waiting for the right one.”