Page 104 of Strike It Witch

“Okay. Thanks, Joon.”

I ended the call and tucked my phone in my pocket.

“He really is a great choice,” I said to the soil. “You greened the grass for him, so it’s obvious you like him.”

“Hey there.” Ida strolled up, took one look at me, and grinned. “I overheard you talking to my other wine-drinking buddy, Joon. Everything okay?”

“He offered to do a test run as manager of the park.”

I bent down and patted the ground that had swallowed my feet the second I ended the call.

“Is that right?” She stared down at my buried feet. “And what did you tell him?”

The ground pulled me down to my calves and squeezed—gently, like a hug. “I told him I wasn't ready to leave just yet. Anyway, it’s not up to me. It’s up to the Siete Saguaros.”

“I’m thinking this place has made its choice,” she said.

“Me, too.”

Epilogue

Ronan

Five days later…

“Hey, Durg, good to see you. What can I pour for you on this fine Saturday evening?” I asked.

“Hello, Ronan. Nice to see you, too. I’ll have the usual.” The ogre, whose full name was Durg the Bright, walked up to the bar. He had an air of refined dignity to him, which was a stark contrast to the ogre he’d walked in with.

“Hello, Novik. What can I?—”

“Beer. Anything you’ve got on tap,” Novik the Victor grumbled. “Keep it coming.”

Both ogres looked as if they’d just finished up at a high-powered business meeting—clean shaven, in business suits and ties. Their skin was tinted green, though it was less noticeable on Durg’s dark brown skin. Someone had obviously covered Novik’s white skin with makeup, because it looked like the inside of a pear. Ogres were notoriously good-looking—from a humanperspective— until they reached their final forms where they gained hundreds of pounds and went full Jolly Green Giant.

“Please,” Durg said.

“Please,” Novik mimicked in the exact same tone.

Durg let out a sigh that told me everything I needed to know about his day. I poured him a bourbon and slid it across the bar then filled a mug with beer and sent it Novik’s way.

“Thought you folks were out of town,” I said.

“The centennial gathering isnextmonth,” Durg replied.

“We have to go all the way to Paris, France for it.” Novik made the trip to Paris sound like a visit to an overflowing septic tank.

“Such enthusiasm,” Durg drawled.

“I sound as excited about it as I am. Wish you’d all let me stay home.” Novik downed his beer in one drink and tapped the mug to indicate I should pour another.

“We were in San Diego at a real estate conference today.” Durg took a dignified drink of his bourbon and gave his brother a mocking grin. “Novik had to be on his best behavior.”

That explained it. Novik was an asshole at the best of times. If he was stressed, he was impossible to deal with. I’d once seen him get stabbed in the face by someone he’d pissed off. I still laughed about it sometimes.

I slid two mugs across to him and pointed into the next room. On special occasions, the room filled up, but tonight it was only half-full. Karen shuttled between tables keeping glasses filled and people calm.

“There’s a dark corner in the back room far away from the jukebox and other customers. Go ahead. My assistant manager will keep the beers coming. Be polite to her.”

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