Making Magic: An Urban Fantasy Action Adventure series (The Witches of Pressler Street Book 2)

by Martha Carr

  “Uh…Thursday night.” He let out a humorless chuckle and nodded, trying to convince himself he still agreed with that decision. “Well, that was the last one. I really only smoke at work. And Friday when I came in, you invited me to Nickie’s show. I could tell how much you don’t like it, and I like you a lot more, so…I’m done.”

  Okay, admittedly, I’m a little flattered.

  Shaking his head, he shrugged. “It was actually goin’ pretty well until all this craziness. Did you see what’s goin’ on out there?”

  Emily swallowed. “Nope.” But I’m pretty sure we can blame the whole thing on me thinking about that kiss while I was cooking… “You know, I think it’s probably just a—”

  The kitchen door burst open so hard it smacked the kitchen wall with a thud before swinging closed again.

  “She’s an insane person!” Chef Ansler stormed into the kitchen with Annie on his heels. “Apparently, my restaurant is a goddamn looney bin!” He slammed a hand down on the order line and started pacing. “We managed to get things back under control last week with that…that weird…whatever the hell happened, nobody said a word. But half the people out there have lost their minds, and I’m gonna be all over the goddamn news as the five-star chef whose running a…a freakin’ whorehouse. And it’s three fifteen in the afternoon!”

  “Oh, boy.” Emily groaned and looked at John. “I’m gonna go see if there’s anything I can do.”

  He smirked. “You don’t happen to have any more of that mushroom soup, do you? Seemed to calm people down the last time.”

  “Uh…yeah, that was a one-time thing.” She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t think this is the same situation.”

  “Only in how nuts it is.” He nodded at her. “If anyone asks, just tell them I’ll be out in two minutes.”

  “Sure.”

  “Thanks, Em.”

  Hearing him use her nickname made her stop and look at him.

  John held her gaze even as his foot kept pumping up and down on the floor, and his small smile was both apologetic and grateful.

  “No problem.” She smiled, winked, and headed into the kitchen.

  Chef Ansler had moved to the other side of the kitchen by the second walk-in, rubbing his fingers over his lips as he scowled and listened to both Annie and his Sous Chef talk to him at the same time. The other chefs at their stations and on the line kept working to complete the waiting orders, but they’d slowed down enough to do their jobs and sneak occasional glances at their boss.

  Emily made a straight line toward the kitchen door and stopped to peer through the window into the dining room. Her eyes grew wide, and she took in a long, slow breath. “Oh, yeah. I seriously screwed up again.”

  Everything John and Chef Ansler said made perfect sense now. At the table closest to the kitchen, a woman in her seventies sat on the lap of a man barely into his thirties, twirling her fingers in his hair and whispering in his ear as he stroked her thigh. A couple who might have been eating their meal together were now definitely enjoying each other’s company, making out like crazy beside their table before the man swept their entire dinner onto the floor with his arm and lowered her onto the tabletop.

  A woman squealed and darted across the dining room. Emily was about to burst out of the kitchen to come help her before she realized her squeal was actually a laugh. The man chasing the woman was laughing too, wiggling his fingers at her until she stopped, spun around, and pressed her back against the restaurant wall to shoot him a simpering glance. The minute he reached her, they gripped each other fiercely and fumbled with each other’s clothing.

  Tables joined other tables in sitting on laps, kissing strangers, whispering sweet-and-spicy nothings into their neighbors’ ears. The sounds of laughter, kissing, and a few moans from somewhere Emily didn’t even want to see rose through the kitchen door. The last of the guests who hadn’t ordered the chicken soup rose quickly from their table when a necktie and a pair of pantyhose came sailing from the other end of the dining room to land on the centerpiece. The couple hurried out the front door, casting disgusted and fearful looks behind them.

  Emily clamped a hand over her mouth and spun away from the kitchen door. I have no idea how to fix this. I don’t even know how to fix this. She dragged her hand down her lips and over her chin. “Just get back to work,” she muttered. “It’ll run its course. It always does. Yeah.” With a nod, she headed to her soup station and pretended to forget everything she’d just seen—just like the rest of the chefs.

  She reached out to turn the burner back on beneath the soup, then stopped. And keep this thing going? No, thanks. Instead, she took advantage of all the other chefs focusing so hard on trying to focus and dumped the rest of her chicken-and-orgy soup into the trashcan beside her station. “Eighty-six chicken soup,” she shouted. The other chefs echoed their confirmation back at her without missing a beat at their own stations. Emily took the pot and the lid to the industrial sink beside the dishwasher and left it there.

  On her way back, she saw John stepping out of the staff room. He smiled at her as he headed through the kitchen, looking a lot more in control of himself now. She lifted her hand and crossed her fingers, which made him roll his eyes and laugh before he pushed through the swinging kitchen door.

  She was scheduled to work until 4:00 p.m., and the second she saw the clock over the swinging door reach 4:00 p.m., she stepped around her sprayed, scrubbed, and dried-spotless station.

  Chef Martino glanced over from where he diced onions at the sauté station. “What are you doing?” he asked.

  Emily glanced at Chef Ansler still fuming against the far wall. “I’m scheduled ‘til four…”

  “Then get outta here.”

  “Are you sure it’s—”

  “Yep.” He smirked, shook his head, and went back to dicing. “Nobody’s staying here later than they have to tonight. Trust me.”

  “Okay. Thanks.”

  Chef Martino puffed out a breath, rolled his eyes, and kept chopping.

  Emily went to the staff room and shrugged out of her chef’s coat. Her car keys and phone went from her locker to her back pockets, and she paused. “I hope John’s okay out there. Maybe I should—” She shook her head. “No. He’s working. And I don’t think I’d step into that dining room right now if someone offered me a million bucks.” Folding her chef’s coat over her arm, she left the staff room to head for the kitchen’s back door.

  She gave a final glance at the kitchen. All the orders had gone out, and most of the chefs were keeping busy with a head start on tomorrow’s prep work or cleaning up their stations or trying not to look like they waited for Chef Ansler to explain the seriously freaky day in his restaurant. Looks like things are settling down a little. Yeah, I knew they would. Pressing her lips together, she walked outside into the parking lot.

  Once she got behind the wheel of her Honda Civic and started it up, she pulled out her phone and found a text from Laura.

  ‘Going to that party after all. Energy core in the same neighborhood. If you don’t have time to come home first, meet us there at 6:00. You can bring John.’ Below that was an address.

  Emily shook her head. “I can bring John. Awesome. Still not an apology, Laura.” She glanced at the seat behind her and nodded. “Got a change of clothes in the car and one iron-orb…weapon at the Clubhouse. Think I’m pretty good to go.”

  She cocked her head and typed out a reply: ‘I’ll meet you there.’

  Then, just because she knew it would make her feel better, at least, she pulled up her text thread with John.

  ‘Party tonight? Turns out it’s not just a sister thing. And this doesn’t let you off the hook for Tuesday.’ She copied the address into another text and sent that too.

  Then she took a deep breath, shifted into drive, and left Meadowlark Tavern to spend a few hours somewhere quiet, by herself, without any distractions. “I hope.”

  29

  “There she is.” Laura nodded at the slate-gray
Honda coming down the street. Nickie and Chuck stopped on their way up the driveway to turn around and look. “You think she’s still mad at me?”

  Nickie shrugged. “You’ll know in a minute.”

  “What happened?” Chuck asked.

  “Laura crapped all over Emily’s aspirations to be a chef. No big deal.”

  “Woah.”

  “That’s a really crude way to put it, Nickie.” Laura frowned at her sister. “And I realize I should’ve paid more attention to the way I phrased things.”

  “Yep.”

  “Okay.” Chuck lifted both hands and smirked. “I’m not gonna ask any more about it.”

  “Well, thanks, Chuck.” Laura barely cracked a smile as she watched Emily get out of her car and walk across the street toward them. The second her sister stepped onto the driveway, Laura spread her arms. “Hey, glad you made it. Is John coming?”

  “After his shift, yeah.” Emily didn’t meet her gaze.

  “How was yours?”

  Emily shot Laura a blank stare. Then she blinked and headed for the front door. “I need a drink.”

  “Right there with ya, Em.” Chuck hurried after her.

  Nickie glanced at Laura. “Maybe she’ll like your present. And apology.”

  “She’s gotta let me give them to her first.” They followed Emily and Chuck up to the front porch and stopped just before the front door opened.

  “Hi…” A witch in her mid-thirties with short, bright-red hair and wearing a lavender romper grinned at them. “I’m Vanessa.” She stuck out her hand to shake each of theirs, and they introduced themselves.

  Laura was the last to do so, and when she told the woman her name, Vanessa’s eyes widened. “Oh, you’re Laura. Nathan hasn’t stopped talking about you since he got here.”

  That’s not weird. Laura smiled. “I know we’re a little late, but he told me the party started at six.”

  “Oh, you’re fine. He just got here really early.” Vanessa chuckled and stepped aside. “Come on in.”

  They all stepped into the large, elegantly decorated house. Laura appreciated the theme followed decorative patterns from the American Southwest in pastel colors. “I’ll let Nathan know you’re here.” Vanessa turned and disappeared into the next room.

  “There’s an actual bar here.” Chuck stared at them and wiggled his eyebrows. “Built into the wall. Babe, you want anything?”

  “Yeah. A beer? Whatever’s good.”

  “You got it.” He strolled off into what looked like the den, nodding and smiling and striking up casual conversation with the other people standing there as he headed for the bar.

  “What kinda party did you say this was?” Nickie asked.

  “Uh…he said it was a ‘Welcome to Austin’ party.” Laura gazed at the oil paintings lining the entryway and shrugged. “I think most of these people are from his department.”

  “Oh, good. A bunch of physicists.” Emily clapped her hands and rubbed them together. “This’ll be so much fun.”

  Laura turned toward her sister. “You know, if you let yourself be just a little—”

  “Hey.” Nathan took a few jogging steps around the corner, then slowed as he approached them. “I wasn’t sure if you’d actually show up. Glad you did.” He grinned. “These your sisters?”

  “Yeah.” Laura gestured to each of them in turn. “Nickie and Emily. This is Nathan.”

  “Great to meet you guys. Hey, I’m gonna go make some drinks. Anybody want anything?”

  “Vodka soda,” Emily said curtly. “That would be awesome.”

  “Got it.”

  Nickie shook her head and nodded at the bar. “My order’s already in. That blond guy playing superstar barista over there is Chuck.”

  Nathan laughed. “Glad he’s got you covered. I’ll go say hi. Laura?”

  “Um…just a light beer, I guess?”

  “No problem.” He headed into the den and waved them forward. “Come on in. Get comfortable. I’ll bring you your drinks.”

  “Thanks.” Laura smiled, and the minute he turned around to face the bar, she whipped her head toward Emily. “I don’t think it’s such a good idea to start off with a vodka soda, Em. We have one thing to do here that’s a little more important than drinking.”

  “Huh.” Emily stared after Nathan and blinked. “I don’t think you know what a dwarf is.” She turned toward Laura and jerked her thumb back toward the bar. “‘Cause that guy is definitely not a dwarf.”

  Nickie snorted. “Yeah, you had us goin’ there for a minute. What is he really?”

  Laura glanced between her sisters, then rolled her eyes. “We can have this conversation later. Right now, we’re mingling. In a little bit, we’re gonna find the energy core in this neighborhood and smash it to pieces.” With a firm nod, Laura squared her shoulders and headed into the den, smiling when she saw Chuck and Nathan laughing behind the bar. At least someone’s having a good time at this thing.

  They didn’t move farther than the den the first two hours. Nathan had no problem keeping everyone entertained with stories of his last teaching job in Ohio, and then he felt the need to switch to the topic to how he met Laura, starting with her holding the door open for him as he struggled with his stack of boxes. He did conveniently leave out the minor magical details of her blasting the drawer out of her desk and him helping her with it; Chuck wasn’t the only human in the room who still didn’t know magic existed.

  Emily slowly sipped her vodka tonic until it was empty, and she’d considered making her another one for the last half hour. Nathan definitely gets points for making a stiff drink. And Laura wasn’t wrong about us having to stay on our game…

  Her phone vibrated in her back pocket, and just as one of the other guests delivered the punchline she’d only halfway paid attention to, she pulled up the text from John.

  ‘Just got here. I think.’

  The room exploded with laughter.

  “Oh, thank god.” Emily turned toward the entryway.

  “Everything okay?” Nickie asked.

  “It is now.” Emily wrinkled her nose at her sister and struggled not to skip toward the front door. When she opened it, she found John walking up the sidewalk and frowning at his phone. “Hey!”

  “Thanks for steppin’ out.” He grinned and headed up the driveway. “I really wasn’t sure if this was the right place.”

  “Well, I don’t know if it’s the right place, but this is definitely the party.”

  He chuckled and slipped his hands into his pockets as Emily spun in a quick half-circle and walked with him back to the front door.

  “Everything okay?” he asked.

  “I dunno.” She shrugged. “It’s been a super weird day for everyone, I think.”

  “You can say that again.”

  “How did everything go after I left?”

  John puffed out a sigh and shook his head. “It kinda just…worked itself out, I think. People eventually settled down. They all seemed really confused, but nobody wanted to admit it or apologize. Nobody talked about it at all. I did get a twenty-percent tip from the handsy lady, though.”

  “Well that’s a plus.” Emily smirked.

  “I guess…Ansler was still pretty pissed when we closed down.”

  “He’s always pissed.”

  John laughed, and they stepped inside together.

  The conversation hushed soon as they rejoined Emily’s sisters, Nathan, Chuck, and the half-dozen other friends and associates in the den. Nathan grinned and spread his arms. “Hey. John, right?”

  “Yeah, hi.”

  The physics professor stuck out his hand. “Nathan.” They shook, then Nathan took a sip of his liquor drink.

  “He works with Laura,” Emily added.

  “We don’t really work together.” Laura shook her head with a quick laugh. “He teaches physics and happened to get the empty office across the hall from mine.”

  “Wow.” Nathan grinned. “You really like to make sure there’s n
o room for confusion, don’t you?”

  Laura opened her mouth and couldn’t find anything to say.

  John nodded with wide eyes and glanced at Emily. “Good stuff.”

  “Yup.”

  One of the women in the den with them leaned forward and lifted a hand. “Excuse me for a minute. I haven’t eaten anything, so I’m going to raid Vanessa’s kitchen.” A few people chuckled, and one of the men went with her.

  Emily fought the urge to roll her eyes and shout for the actual party to get started. I was hoping this wouldn’t be a stuffy academic party. Guess that’s what I get for hopin’.

  “Okay. I think I’ve talked everyone’s ears off long enough. And…” Nathan peered around the corner toward the kitchen. “…I don’t know where Vanessa went. Laura? Will you help me figure out how to get her sound system working?”

  “Um…” Laura glanced at Nickie and Chuck, who both failed at offering inconspicuous nods. “Yeah, okay.” She walked hesitantly toward him, and he led her across the den to a complicated-looking audio system.

  John leaned toward Emily as he eyed the other people in the room with them. “This wasn’t really the kind of party I was expecting.”

  “Oh, me, neither.” She laughed. “Okay, so there’s one thing I won’t enjoy doing when we go out on Tuesday.”

  “What’s that?”

  “This.”

  They both laughed.

  “Ah, but nice bar. Is it help yourself?” John asked.

  “Yeah, definitely get a drink.”

  He grinned and headed off to do just that.

  Emily turned to look at Laura and Nathan by the sound system. Man, she’s tense. Standing there like a plank. Way to make it super obvious you don’t know how to talk to guys, Laura. If I didn’t already know she’d get pissed at me, I’d go be her wingman right now. She looked up at Nickie and Chad, who were both trying hard to look interested in what a middle-aged woman with hilariously magnifying bifocals was saying about String Theory. Weirdest day ever.

  She saw Laura laugh, which was a good sign. Nathan said something else with animated gestures before a soft crackle filled the room, then the music started. “There we go,” Nathan shouted and led her back toward the rest of the group. “If anyone has a problem with James Brown you can listen to something else. At your own house.” A few people laughed, and Nathan leaned toward Laura to say something in her ear. Her eyes grew wide, and she shot him a sideways glance without saying anything.