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Interrupted Magic Page 14
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I snorted. “The whole town is buzzing after you spent the night.”
“How could they possibly know that?”
“Small town. Nosy neighbors.”
He paused, met my gaze. “Do you care what your neighbors think?”
“As a rule, no.” We continued to the wooden door that led into the folly. “Did I tell you we got an offer on the shop? Cassandra’s Realtor is presenting the offer before we open tomorrow morning.” I pressed the heel of my hand against my eyes, once more questioning my common sense. “I can get there faster if I’m not driving home from your house. I shouldn’t be here.”
He cupped my face. “I disagree, and I also think you wouldn’t have come if you didn’t want to be here.”
“Everything’s happening so fast,” I breathed. “You. Closing the shop. I feel like I’m out of control.”
“I don’t want to be one of your problems. You aren’t upset with me because I won’t help you reverse your spell, are you?”
“No. I do understand that.”
He unlocked the door. Ash trotted along behind us, her tail raised tall. She raced up the turret steps, as if she knew the way to the workroom. As I took one step up, Ian tugged on my hand. I turned toward him, his face level with mine.
“You fill me with wonder and delight and desire, all at once,” he said. “Like when I discovered magic for the first time.”
I nodded, hypnotized by his dark eyes.
“There are other ways to relax,” he waggled his eyebrows and I laughed.
“We have all night,” I said. “Let me work out the kinks first.”
“Kinks?” His eyebrows rose with a speculative look. “I think I like the sound of that.”
I laughed. “Isn’t owning a castle kinky enough? Please don’t tell me you have shackles in the dungeon.”
He growled against my ear as he wrapped an arm around my waist. “I would never shackle you. Those hands are far too talented to restrict.”
I giggled and ran up the staircase.
Chapter 26
Ash sat like a statue on one end of the worktable. An open grimoire lay beside her. I gasped, surprised to see the phenomenon somewhere other than my own workshop.
“I suspect I’ll have a visitor looking to buy something later,” Ian said, his chin hovering at my shoulder. “Shall we see what’s in store?”
I nodded.
The page showed a wood wick candle made from soy wax and coffee oil with roasted coffee beans.
“I’ve never used coffee in a recipe before,” I said.
“I have a fairly regular customer who likes it. Coffee dispels negative thoughts and emotions. It can also be used to kickstart a spell, give it that extra oomph.”
“A wood wick?”
“Promotes patience—it takes longer to light—and comfort. The wood crackles as it burns, like it would in a fireplace. Want to help?”
I stepped away from the table. “My gift for alchemy seems to be MIA. Better you infuse it with your talents than risk making a product that fails.”
“We can consult the grimoire about the problems with your magic. I still think it’s a result of trying to circumvent that other witch’s spell. I suspect when the spell completes, your gifts will be re-established.”
“The spell will complete next week. Might as well wait and see what happens.” I redirected the conversation. “What made you decide to become a chemist?”
“Alchemy,” he said without hesitation. “The same as you said earlier. When we create product, we infuse a sense of ourselves into it, right? Uncle Edgar taught me that, but it didn’t sink in until middle school chemistry class. We did an experiment where we turned a penny silver, and then to gold. Not really silver, of course, it was zinc coating, and not really gold—bronze—but it was a perfect illustration.”
“I remember that experiment,” I said. “The other fun one was elephant toothpaste. You know, when dish soap turns into foam?”
Ian chuckled as he gathered the ingredients for the candle. “I do know. You studied chemistry?”
“I’d declared that as my major when I first left for college, but switched to ethnobotany after I met my aunt.”
He prepared the candle jar, including setting the wooden wick in the bottom, then leaned over to kiss me. “You need chemistry for a botany degree, too, don’t you? One more thing we have in common. I expect we’ll find many more things. I want to know everything, even if it takes a lifetime. Stay with me, Brynn.”
Being with Ian was heady. The rest of the world faded away when we were together, but I had other responsibilities. I smiled, deliberately downplaying his invitation. “I do have to look over the sales contract tomorrow morning. I’m going to have to leave then.”
He scowled. “You know what I mean. What we have is extraordinary. You must feel it as much as I do.”
As I tended to do when he overwhelmed me, I nodded like a bobblehead.
While I drove to Hillendale the following morning, I struggled to clear my head from the “Ian effect.” Yes, I was besotted. The way I felt about him when we were together was extraordinary. Apart from him, those feelings didn’t seem rational. I had to exercise logic and common sense, traits I would need today to evaluate the offer on the boutique.
I weighed the pros and cons of selling the shop, arguing the finer points of spending my days at the folly working with Ian, which didn’t make any sense with the garden at my house in Hillendale.
I stopped home to drop off my overnight bag, checked the workroom—no open grimoires—and started along the footpaths into town.
When I reached Broadway, Nora called. I juggled the cat carrier to answer my phone.
“I wish I could be there with you for moral support,” she said. “But know that I’m thinking of you. I know you’ll do what makes the most sense.”
“I wish you could be here, too, but it isn’t your problem anymore. Did you tell Sam we’re closing?”
“Yes. He said not to worry. He’ll pick up whatever jewelry you have left whenever it’s convenient. I can even take it to him, if you like.”
I was fond of the indigenous man, and I’d miss his regular stops into the shop. “I’ll make the trip to Waupago. No sense involving a middle man. Or woman, in this case.” I stopped on the sidewalk. “There’s someone on the bench outside the shop. I assume that’s Cassandra’s Realtor friend, and Cassandra’s walking from the parking lot. I guess I’d better pick up the pace.”
“Call me later?”
“Will do. You’re still coming tomorrow?”
“I am.”
Her reassurance settled my nerves considerably. “Gotta go.”
Chapter 27
Cassandra unlocked the door, but waited outside for me. We walked in together, locking the door behind us as we went.
The Realtor had frosted blonde hair and wore a pencil skirt and blouse. She introduced herself as Paige Lemberger and handed me her card. We walked to the backroom office, Paige’s eyes sweeping the space until she gave me what I considered a professional smile. “Let’s get right to it,” she said. “I understand there’s an association that takes care of maintenance, so there’s no need to address the condition of the roof or other structural issues.” She paused, shooting a questioning look at Cassandra. “You’d said you wanted to sleep on it.” Then she turned to me. “I know Cassandra advised you to do the same.” We returned to the front of the shop and she set the contract on the counter. She pointed to the first paragraph that included the proposed offer, then went through the rest of the document.
“I will tell you I think the buyer is offering you a good price, I assume at the urging of the association that controls the business district,” she said. “The buyer has requested to close on the property at the end of September, but that seems awfully soon to wind down business.”
“Not soon enough,” Cassandra muttered.
Paige raised her eyebrows. “What do you think?” she asked me.
I t
ook a resigned breath. “We’ve been struggling for some time, and this offer is considerably more than what we paid last year. I’m in favor of taking it.”
She flashed another of her professional smiles. “Excellent. The two of you should be able to start over somewhere you might get more traction.”
I glanced at Cassandra. “What do you think? There’s no going back once we sign.”
Cassandra picked up a pen, did a cursory last glance through the contract, and signed it. She turned the paper toward me.
“All right, then.” I signed my name beside hers, my heart skipping a beat.
Tears welled in Cassandra’s eyes and I reached across to hug her. “We should go out for a drink after work,” I whispered.
She nodded, forced a smile and wiped her eyes.
“Then that’s that,” Paige said. “You ladies are getting the better end of the deal on this one. Always good to come out ahead. I’ll call Barry and let him know we’re good to go.”
We walked her to the front of the store and Cassandra locked the door behind her.
“I’m not even sure I want to open the store today,” Cassandra said.
“We have inventory to deplete, and it’s still tourist season. Might as well make what we can on what we have,” I replied.
“We can button it up after Labor Day weekend?”
“Sounds like a plan.”
She hugged me. “I’m sorry, Brynn. I’d hoped this would be good for both of us. Thank you for giving me the chance.”
I laughed. “If you hadn’t signed on, I would have had to close last year. I’m glad we got to do this together.”
“What about your new man? He won’t mind you going out with your girlfriends on a Saturday night?”
I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I’m sure he’ll understand. Will Lucas be unhappy?”
“Hoes before bros,” she recited, and laughed as she wiped away the last of her tears. “I expect you to tell me more about this guy now that business is taken care of. We can even invite Lisa, if you want.”
“I think this is Dylan’s night at the firehouse. I’ll give her a call.”
Cassandra nodded at the shop windows. “In the meantime, looks like a busy day in Hillendale. We might even turn a profit.”
Customers wandered in, and by the time Starr arrived to work an hour later, we streamed music to work by, reinstituting Nora’s tradition of Windfall karaoke and singing along with what customers we had.
After we’d closed the shop for the day, Cassandra and I crossed the street to the Hillendale Pub, where Lisa had already gotten a table. As we took our seats, a server arrived with a plate of mozzarella sticks and a couple shots.
“Kamikazes,” Lisa said. “I took the liberty of ordering.” She lifted her glass of water. “Whether we’re celebrating or commiserating, here’s to ya.”
“What’s with the water?” Cassandra asked.
Lisa bounced in her seat, a secretive smile on her face. “Bun in the oven.”
“Well, then. Celebrating, it is.” She clinked her shot glass to Lisa’s water glass and downed it. “Good choice.”
I raised my shot glass. “To Windfall.” The citrusy flavors tingled on the way down, almost making me forget the vodka.
The owner of the pub set a hand on our table and leaned in. With his other hand, he waved at our food and drinks. “These are on me, ladies. I’m sorry to see you go.”
While I doubted his sincerity, I appreciated the gesture.
“Heard the singing coming from the shop today. Just like old times.” He gave us a wink and moved on to the next table.
“Well, damn,” I muttered, tears leaking from my eyes.
“Don’t you start,” Cassandra said. “How am I supposed to keep it together if you can’t?”
“I know,” Lisa said. “How about you tell us about your new man to cheer us up.”
I bristled, unsure if she was asking because she was my friend or if she was pumping me for information to pass along to Kyle through Dylan.
The waitress stopped by our table. “What can I get you ladies?”
Cassandra motioned a circle over the table with her finger. “Two more shots, and we’ll be ready with our dinner orders when you get back.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Not sure I’ll make it to dinner if you get me drunk before we have a chance to eat.”
Cassandra pushed the plate of mozzarella sticks in front of me. “Start soaking the alcohol up with these. Honestly, Brynn, we deserve to let loose tonight.”
I raised my second shot her direction before I emptied it. We all perused our menus, but as soon as we set them down, Lisa returned to her mission to find out more about Ian.
Cassandra eyed me as if she knew I questioned Lisa’s motives. “What does it matter?” she asked softly. “Kyle’s past tense, right?”
“That doesn’t mean I should run roughshod over his feelings,” I replied, the buzz from the shots catching up with me. I dipped a mozzarella stick into the marinara sauce and took a bite.
Cassandra turned to face Lisa. “What did you think of Ian? Brynn, here, thinks he’s the hottest guy she’s ever met. Me? I’m not so sure, but hey. We all have our own taste, right?”
Lisa glanced between us, frowning. “He was okay, I guess.”
Cassandra leaned on the table. “What’s the gossip around town? Are people ready to draw and quarter him?”
I raised my hands to stop her. “Okay, okay. Enough. I don’t care what people are saying about him, and I don’t want to hear it. You want details? This is what I know. His name is Ian and he lives in Pratt. He used to live in Connecticut and moved here after his uncle died. He inherited his uncle’s property.”
Lisa straightened. “Lives in Pratt permanently? Or are you moving to Connecticut? Who’s going to be this baby’s godmother?”
I laughed as the waitress returned with more shots. “Dylan would never allow me the honor.”
“It isn’t Dylan’s call,” she said stubbornly.
“I am not going to come between you and your husband,” I said slowly. “Ian said he intends to stay here for the time being.”
“But not permanently?” Lisa pouted. “This happened so suddenly. Is he, like, the rebound guy?”
I closed my eyes, picturing the way Ian looked at me, the instant chemistry we’d felt in the market, the easy conversation we’d shared over the last several days. “He’s the real deal.”
“You know how uncomfortable she’s been with all the pressure Kyle’s put on her,” Cassandra said. “You should know better than anyone how controlling he can be. Isn’t that why your sister broke up with him back in the day?”
“I pointed out the same thing,” I said.
Lisa scowled. “Kyle’s different since he’s been with you.”
I reached across the table for Lisa’s hands. “Think about it. He insisted on setting a date, and then when things didn’t go the way he expected, he’s the one who backed out. He wanted to marry me on his terms. It didn’t matter what I thought.”
“You did set a date. That means you wanted to marry him.”
“I did, to get him off my back. That isn’t the way it should be.”
Lisa withdrew her hand and bowed her head. “And this Ian guy is so much better?”
I couldn’t stop the smile spreading across my face, partially due to the alcohol, I was sure. “So much better.”
“How can you know? You said yourself you only just met him,” Lisa argued.
“Which shows you how much my relationship with Kyle was lacking,” I replied.
The waitress stood poised to take our order. We halted the conversation long enough to comply. When she left, Lisa pounced again.
“What if this is like that woman who turned Kyle’s head last summer? What if Ian changes his mind and ditches you? Then what?”
“First, you might recall Kyle didn’t even remember he had a girlfriend when that woman turned his head. I haven’t forgotten abou
t Kyle, and I haven’t turned my back on him the way he turned his back on me. How many times do I have to remind you? He called off the wedding. He moved out of my house. What am I supposed to do? Beg him to come back?”
“He’s going through stuff,” Lisa said weakly.
“Second,” I went on. “Even if Ian gets tired of me...” My breath caught in my throat. Would he? I didn’t have the best track record with friends of any gender. I composed myself. As Ian had said, what we shared was extraordinary. “That wouldn’t change where my relationship with Kyle stands. He’s done. I’m done.”
“He’s depressed,” Lisa continued. “Once he gets his life back on track everything will be the way it used to be.”
“Without me,” I finished.
“Good for you,” Cassandra said. “Another toast.” We picked up our shots. “Hoes before bros.”
Lisa smirked and I laughed. “I’ll drink to that.”
We ordered crème de menthe for after dinner aperitifs. The wintergreen flavor made me think of Ian. In my less-than-sober state, I couldn’t shake Lisa’s comments that Ian would get tired of me. I excused myself to the bathroom and called him from the hallway.
“There’s my queen,” he said when he answered.
“You aren’t tired of me yet?” I shook my head, my good sense fighting with the amount of alcohol I’d consumed.
“Maybe in about fifty years, but we can reassess then,” he said. “Are you coming over? I hope you don’t think you need an invitation.”
“I’m in no condition to drive, but I’ll see you tomorrow night,” I said, going for a sultry tone. “Which is Ian’s bigger folly? The castle or the woman he’s taken up with?”
“Technically, it’s Edgar’s folly, and meeting you is far from the foolishness you make it seem, unless you’re having a change of heart.” He paused. “Have you been drinking?”
“We’ve been toasting the sale of the business. Me, and Cassandra and Lisa.”
Cassandra bumped into me and giggled. “We’re all paid up,” she said. “Time to go.”
“I’ll call you when I get home,” I told Ian, and disconnected.