Essence of the Witch

by Deanna Chase

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Miranda listened to Gideon’s message for what seemed like the hundredth time. He was so sweet, apologetic, and self-aware enough to realize she needed space to sort out how she was feeling. And for two days, he’d done just that. Two days of silence.

  Frankly, it just pissed her off.

  She actually wanted him to fight for her. Groaning, she put her phone down on the table and reached for another Christmas cookie.

  “You’re gonna have to ask catering to make more of those if you keep that up,” Cameron said, walking into the room with all the enchanted presents at the Pelshes’ winery. The last thing to do before the party was to put the presents beneath the chairs at the dinner tables. The place resembled an elegant magazine spread. The snowmen had been spelled and were already twirling around the dance floor, the animated fairies were sprinkling their fairy dust from the beams on the open-air ceiling, and the snow was coming down in soft flakes that vanished the moment they landed on something.

  It was, quite simply, a magical wonderland.

  “Make more of what?” Miranda mumbled as she chewed around the cookie.

  Cameron laughed and sat down next to her at the worktable. “Those cookies you don’t even realize you’re eating.”

  She glanced at the headless reindeer and groaned. “Dammit. How am I going to fit into my dress after binging these things? I swear the devil made me do it.”

  “You just keep telling yourself that.” He winked and pulled up a chair. “I have news.”

  “About?” she asked, pleased to have someone to talk to who might take her mind off Gideon.

  “I’ve been contracted to rewrite the screenplay for Witching for You,” he said.

  Miranda blinked at him. “What?”

  His lips twitched into a small smile.

  “If you’re messing with me, I’m going to punch you in the face.” Miranda jumped out of her chair and started pacing due to her pent-up energy.

  “That’s kind of violent, Miranda. You sure that’s what you want to lead with considering I’ll be writing your story?”

  “You… you tell me right now. Is this a joke?” she demanded.

  He pulled his phone out of his pocket and opened the email from his agent with the attached contract. “Read it for yourself.”

  She grabbed his phone. Sure enough, he had been asked to rewrite the screenplay. The previous writer had been let go. “I don’t understand. I thought Throm Alexander had control. He’d never give you this after he learned we were working together.”

  “Throm’s dropped out. Witching Hour wasn’t pleased with his values. I’m sure you saw the story.”

  Miranda just nodded. She’d been trying not to think of Gideon’s dad. It just wasn’t good for her mental state. “Seriously? He’s out, and you’re going to write the screenplay?” Tears filled her eyes and she didn’t bother to try to hold them back. “I can’t believe this. It’s a dream come true.” She threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly. “Do right by us, Cam.”

  He chuckled into her ear. “There’s more, gorgeous.”

  She pulled back and narrowed her eyes at him. “Are you flirting with me? I already told you I can’t be your proper date tonight. I’m too busy.”

  Cameron threw his head back and laughed. “Don’t flatter yourself. I have a date.”

  “With who?”

  “That sassy redhead, Wanda. I asked her today, because I’m classy like that.” He smirked.

  She chuckled. “I bet Wanda was all over that.”

  He glanced down at himself. “I sure hope so.”

  “Stop!” She smacked his arm but then laughed with him. “Good. I’m glad you have a date. And Wanda is a ton of fun. I hope you two hit it off.”

  “I’m sure we’ll have a good time.” He sat back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “I have something to ask you.”

  “If the question is ‘where do babies come from,’ I’m going to have to insist that you stay celibate until you get a sex-ed class,” she teased.

  “Funny,” he said dryly. “I think you’ll want to hear this question.”

  “Just as long as it’s not about Gideon,” she said before she could swallow the words.

  “It’s not, but let’s put a pin in that for a moment so I can get this out.”

  Miranda gazed at him. “Okay, Cam. Shoot.”

  “Will you co-write the Witching for You script with me?”

  She froze, unable to process what he’d said. “Say that again.”

  He gave her a twisted half-smile. “Be my partner while I’m working on Witching for You. I want your input when I have to make changes.”

  “Yes!” she cried and flung herself around him. “Yes! Yes! Yes!” Happy tears spilled down her cheeks, and she felt herself start to tremble. With her face buried in his neck, she asked, “Why are you so good to me?”

  He squeezed her tighter. “I’m just a sucker for the really good writers. I know I have a reputation for not playing nice with others, but it’s because I’m a perfectionist. You, my dear, have a gift that I’m envious of. It’s easy to work with someone you admire.”

  “Oh my goddess,” she sobbed. “You’re too much.” Pulling back, she dabbed at her eyes. “I’m going to be a hot mess tonight if you keep me blubbering.”

  He nodded. “That was my plan all along. Hot Mess Miranda. It has a certain ring to it, don’t you think?”

  “Shut it,” she ordered and then twirled around. “This is the best day.”

  “I think there’s room for improvement,” he said as he winked and walked out of the room.

  Miranda didn’t know what to make of that statement, but she decided to ignore it. There was too much work to do.

  Four hours later, Miranda learned what Cameron meant about her day getting better. She was standing near the silent auction table, answering questions about the process, when she spotted him.

  Gideon Alexander. The tall man, looking devastatingly handsome in his black-tie suit, had just entered the venue and was headed straight for her.

  Miranda smoothed her white corset dress with the sassy red ribbons and prayed she wouldn’t act the fool and just throw herself at him. It was a tough call. She had missed him more in the last few days than she had the entire fifteen years they’d been apart the first time. She now knew that their love had never faded, and telling herself they were too young, they weren’t compatible, he wasn’t made for the lifestyle she wanted… all of that was just garbage.

  He was her person and she knew it.

  “You look gorgeous, Miranda,” Gideon said the moment he reached her side. He placed a box on the table and then turned to stare down at her.

  Nervous, she pressed her hands to her waist and said, “That’s good, because I didn’t squeeze myself into this thing just to be average.” She was teasing as she said it, but the way he raked his gaze over her, it was obvious he more than approved. “If you keep looking at me like that, I think the nearest object might just combust.”

  His gaze darted back to hers and he grinned. “I wouldn't mind a few fireworks to be honest.”

  “Oh, hell,” she breathed. “Let’s start over.” She pasted a smile on her face and moved in for a quick hug.

  Only the hug was far from quick. The moment their arms wrapped around each other, they all but melted into the other one. Damn, he felt good pressed up against her.

  “I missed you, Mandy,” he whispered as he ghosted tiny kisses over her neck.

  “I missed you, too,” she admitted.

  They were both silent as they clung to each other, until Gideon finally said, “I quit my job.”

  Miranda pulled back and stared up at him. “You what?”

  “I quit. I actually quit the day I came back here, but I didn’t get a chance to tell you. My house is already on the market, too. I’m here for good.”

  Miranda’s head spun. She was giddy with happiness while being completely overwhelmed. �
�Is that why your father backed out of Witching for You?”

  Gideon shook his head. “I wish I could say I had something to do with that, but it really was Witching Hour who forced him out. His, ah, image, doesn’t fit their brand.”

  “I heard about that,” she said, squeezing his arm. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m perfectly fine, actually. That’s his life, not mine. Whatever he did, I hope he pays the price and not that actress. I know how Throm is. It isn’t difficult to believe her story.” Gideon shrugged as his eyes focused on one of the dancing snowmen that twirled by. Chuckling, he nodded to it. “Those are different.”

  “They’re fantastic. Huge hit. Now back to your dad. What did he do when you quit?”

  “Nothing. Nothing much, anyway.” Gideon let out a humorless laugh. “He tried to intimidate me, threaten me, cut me off, but all of his threats were meaningless. I don’t want the job, his money, or the status. I just wanted to be back here with you.”

  She sucked in a surprised breath. “He cut you off?”

  “I have no idea. It doesn’t matter. I have my own money.” He tugged her into the middle of the dance floor and wrapped his arms around her waist.

  She smiled to herself when she saw Silas and Levi dancing cheek to cheek. They really were an adorable couple, and she was glad to see them looking so happy. Whatever issues they’d been having appeared to have worked out.

  “Miranda, listen,” Gideon said. “I’m here for good. I even made an offer on a house today.”

  “You did what?” She stopped swaying to the music and stared at him wide-eyed. “Where?”

  “Third Street. It’s a fixer-upper, but with some work, I think it will be a cute little place and a decent investment. It overlooks the river.”

  “I can’t believe you’re buying a house.” But what she really meant to say was that she couldn’t believe he was buying a house without her input. If he was going to be in Keating Hollow, there was no doubt in her mind that they’d end up living together. “That’s big.”

  Guh. Her voice sounded full of disappointment even to her own ears.

  “Is there a problem with me living here in Keating Hollow?” he asked so softly she barely heard him.

  Miranda shook her head. “No. Of course not.”

  “Then what is it?”

  She stared up at the magically falling snow and forced herself to say, “If you really were coming back here for good, I wanted you to live with me.”

  “Done,” he said simply.

  Again, she was speechless. “What do you mean, done?” she finally asked with a laugh.

  “I mean done. If you want me to move in with you, I’m there. We can finally get that ending you wrote for us in Witching for You.”

  Miranda’s face flushed, but she was also full of pure happiness. Instead of staying true to their story in the book, she’d written the ending she’d wanted, not the one she’d gotten. “How do you feel about a maltipoo?”

  “We’ll start looking for a puppy to adopt tomorrow,” he said, smiling down at her, his eyes full of love.

  “You’re making my dreams come true, Gideon. But what about that house you’re buying? Can you still get out of it if you move in with me?”

  “Probably,” he said thoughtfully. “But I really do think it’s a good investment. I’ll move in with you, take some time to fix it up, and then probably rent it out. Or sell it if the price is right. How does that sound to you?”

  “It sounds perfect.” She buried her head into his chest and held on for all she was worth as they swayed to the ridiculous song, “Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer.”

  When it ended, the clinking of a glass sounded as Abby Townsend stepped up to the mic on the makeshift stage. She was wearing a green velvet dress, had her blond hair piled up in an elegant twist, and was positively radiant. Her husband Clay Garrison was standing just off to the side, beaming at her with stars in his eyes. Miranda sighed. She sure hoped that Gideon gazed at her in adoration the same way Clay gazed at Abby.

  “Good evening, everyone. I hope you’re all having a grand time!”

  A cheer rose up from the crowd.

  “That’s fantastic. Can we get a round of appreciation for our event chairperson, Miranda Moon?”

  This time the cheers were almost deafening, and Miranda could hardly keep from wincing at the noise level. But she felt proud. Her hard work had paid off, and the guests were not only impressed by the event, they were having a fantastic time.

  “Excellent. Excellent,” Abby called into the microphone. “I agree with you. Miranda did an amazing job.”

  Abby went on to recognize a number of other people while calling out the winners of the silent auctions, and then she said, “We have one more item to auction tonight, but it’s going to be a live auction. How do you feel about that?”

  The crowd did not disappoint. They went wild, more than ready to get their bids on.

  “Excellent. Let’s get our Vanna to bring it out.” She waved to Clay, who was nearby with what looked to be a painting in his hands. “We have a special treat for you tonight, folks. It’s an original painting by our own Gideon Alexander.”

  “You’ve been painting?” Miranda asked him.

  He nodded. “Quite a bit, actually.”

  Miranda turned back to study the painting and let out a gasp as she covered her mouth in surprise. It was a smaller-sized painting, but the detail was exquisite. And she’d know, because it was her portrait, tears rolling down her cheeks, looking completely devastated. It was Miranda at her most vulnerable. And it was stunning. The emotion that he’d captured was so completely beyond words that she couldn’t even speak. She just held on to Gideon’s hand as the bidding rose higher and higher and higher, until finally, Cameron won the auction by bidding an almost obscene amount of money.

  “Well! That went okay, don’t you think?” Abby asked the crowd with a chuckle. “I know a lot of you wanted that piece, but you’ll have a second chance to own some of Gideon’s work. It’s being shown at the Enchanted K Gallery on Main Street through the new year. Happy shopping!”

  She started to move off the stage but then doubled back, giggling to herself. “Oops. Forgot the biggest news of all.” She held her hand out to her husband Clay, who joined her on the stage. Clay raised a champagne glass and gestured for everyone else to follow. Abby held up a glass of ice water. “It appears that Clay finally managed to knock me up. Cheers!”

  Miranda let out a gasp at Abby’s flippant way of sharing their news. Then she laughed. Gods, she loved Keating Hollow. There was never a dull moment.

  She slipped her hand into Gideon’s and said, “Your work is at the gallery, huh?”

  “Yep. Since yesterday,” he confirmed.

  “I’ll have to check it out. I mean, I can’t be living with an artist and not know his work, can I?”

  “You know my work,” he said dismissively. “Besides, if I move in with—”

  “When you move in with me. When, Gideon.

  “Right. When I move in with you, I’m going to need a studio space, so you’ll be around to check out my goods anytime you want.”

  Miranda couldn’t help but stare down at the front of his trousers. “You promise?”

  He grinned. “It’s damned near a requirement at this point.” He glanced around. “How much longer do we need to stay here?”

  “We don’t. The food has been served, the auctions are completed, and there’s a clean-up crew standing by. We can leave any time.”

  Gideon grabbed her hand and started to lead her toward the exit.

  “Eager much?” she teased when they made it outside, bundled in their coats.

  “It’s been way too long, Miranda. Take me home. Please.”

  She smiled, pressed her lips to his, and whispered, “Always.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  It had been three weeks and five days since Wanda had last been in Cameron Copeland’s arms. Ever since that night at the Christmas
ball, she hadn’t been able to get the man off her mind. They’d had an evening for the record books.

  The night had started off light and easy as they bantered back and forth, just enjoying getting to know each other. And then things had turned heated on the dance floor. Who would’ve guessed that the studious screenwriter would’ve been such a great dancer?

  But he was, and after three songs, she was ready to throw herself at him. She’d refrained, of course. Wanda needed her men to work a little harder than that. So she’d waited him out until he’d growled in her ear and begged to take her back to the Keating Hollow Inn.

  The night had been a blur of passion after that, which continued through the holidays and right up until he’d had to take off to go be on-set for the filming of Witching for You. Now he was coming back for three days of meetings with Miranda to go over the rest of the scenes that needed to be filmed.

  Eager to see the one man who’d managed to light her up inside in the past ten years, she’d begged Noel to give her a key to Cameron’s room so that she could be there to surprise him when he arrived that night.

  She bustled around the room, chilling the champagne, turning down the bed, and then slipping into something he wouldn’t have too much trouble slipping her out of. Then she waited. And waited. And waited some more. Flights into Eureka were often unpredictable, so she busied herself reading the travel magazine on the nightstand and was quite engrossed in an article about Alaska when she heard the door handle jiggle.

  Yes, finally, she said to herself as she ditched the magazine. Positioning herself in a suggestive way that she hoped would drive Cameron insane, she lifted one arm over her head and bit down on her bottom lip.

  There were voices in the hall, and Wanda just assumed that it was the bellman Cameron was talking to. But then the door flew open, and two people walked in.

  Wanda froze. A man and a woman had just barged in on her in a see-through nightie that covered nothing. Oh hell, she thought to herself. But then her eyes locked on an older version of Cameron, and her flight instinct kicked in. She hopped off the bed, trying to pull the impossibly short nightie down as if it would do anything to cover her scantily clad lady bits while she tried to escape, and promptly tripped over the woman’s suitcase.