Page 3 of Witches and Wine
Red
Hi.
One word. Two fucking letters. And it was enough to send my ethereal heartbeat into overdrive. She texted me. That meant she wasthinkingabout me.
“Tambie, I’m checking the mail,” I shouted toward the bar.
Tambie scrunched her nose at me. “You know they deliver it straight to your office, right?”
“Theothermail,” I corrected, raising my brows.
Tambie gave me a thumbs up and hoisted her tray filled with drinks to her shoulder.
Arcane Cove was resplendent during the day with its blue skies and perfectly crafted sunsets, but it was damn near enchanting at night. It could be the night owl in me, but nothing compared to the hundreds of stars blanketing the sky and the moon shining so bright it cast intricate shadows. This was a rare sight in the mortal realm from its vast number of artificial lights dampening it. That wasn’t the case in the Cove because any light here came frommagic.
As I strolled down the sidewalk, my thumb hovered over the reply button, at a loss for what to say to her after all this time. I mean, I, too, could’ve picked up the damn phone and texted her, but I hadn’t. She’d seemed so disinterested in being anything but friends, and to be honest, I’d be perfectly fine with it, but her presence? It created an entirely different frenzy inside me. One I had never felt with any other femaleormale.
Fuck it.
Not wishing to stew on it any longer, I quickly typed up my reply and slid the phone back into my pocket. If she wanted to be friends, I’d be the one who was never short on innuendo andoozing with compliments. And if she wished to take things to the next level, I’d show her atimeshe’d never imagined possible.
Unopenedboxes surrounded me that I hadn’t bothered to unpack yet. Finding work in my new hometown took priority, and so did the essentials I took the time to set up—my desk, chair, laptop, and bed. Everything else could wait because time was most certainly money, and I had zero clients here. Being a public relations specialist wasn’t without its perks, as there were always people in need of portraying a particular image. Whether it was a celebrity, a high-profile lawyer, an entire organization, or an athlete—that last thought stung because one of my most prized clients, an ex-MMA fighter, Harmony Makos, was not only a client but my best friend.
Without her on my roster, I saw little reason to stay around Colorado and made the bold move to pick up everything and seek a fresh start. With Harm shacking it up with her new war god husband and porting all around the universe, it only seemed fitting to start over in a new place. Not to mention, the only other person tethering me anywhere was my sister, Elani, and she, too,no longer lived the everyday life now that she’d become a love goddess. Goddesses. Mythology. Things I’d never imagined were real until this past year when I’d been thrust into this new world by the two most important women in my life living out fairytales.
When I researched new towns and vibes to get out of my usual rut and start fresh, I’d settled on the New England area, given its lush trees and picturesque views during autumn and winter. Surprisingly, though, Arcane Cove was the place that I’d accidentally driven through, and I couldn’t turn away once I was here. There was something about it that just feltright. The moment I drove past the arched wrought iron entrance displaying the town’s name surrounded by endless canopies of vibrant green trees, I knew this would be it. Add on reasonable apartment prices and a twenty-four-hour bakery across the street from my building—I was sold.
Sighing, I stared at the dozen opened internet tabs on my laptop screen. I’d slipped into a tank top and pajama shorts, queued up my ABBA playlist, made coffee, and got to work the moment I woke up, but I felt unmotivated for some reason. One of my feet tapped on the floor, while the other rested on my seat chair, my knee pressed to my chest. I was on my third pen, chewing this one too to oblivion, one of several bad habits I developed whenever I attempted to stop smoking.
Jingling got my attention from behind me, and like a Bond villain, I slowly turned in my chair, already knowing the sound’s source. Riley, my black and grey ferret, froze with a set of keys dangling from his mouth. When I first adopted him, he learned things quickly and had been so courageous that I named him Riley. Over time, I realized I should’ve called him Houdini or Robin Hood, the little thief.
“Riley,” I cutely chastised and held out my hand. “You know mama will need those later. Were you planning on hiding them from me?”
Riley stood on his hind legs, his tiny black nose twitching. Grabbing a small bag of ferret treats, I jiggled it and waited for him to scurry over before lowering my palm to him. He dropped the keys in my awaiting hand and pressed both paws against my skin as a form of apology. Smiling at him, I lifted my other hand for him to give a high-five and offered a treat after he performed the trick. Satisfied, Riley darted away, lunging into his flexing tunnel toy.
My grin soon faded from the momentary bout of joy Riley brought me. Arcane Cove wasn’t without its lack of potential clients, but approaching them as a newbie resident wouldn’t be easy. As ironic as it was, given my occupation, the initial socializing to build a client list was always the most challenging for me. I’d pulled up websites for several local musicians, an author, a film company, an airline, and a travel agency. The only one I’d managed to fumble my way through an e-mail to was a music artist who claimed to bring ancient sounds to their work using handmade instruments and unique performances.
Snatching my phone from my desk, I pulled up a text window to Harm.
Me
Hey. I’m dreading starting over. And bored.
A frown pulled at my lips when Harm hadn’t started typing back within seconds. That wasn’t typical for her, which meant she was mythically busy, and I probably wouldn’t hear back from her in days, possibly weeks. Pulling up another text window to my sister, I typed with a bit more fervor.
Me
Hey. What ya doing?
Waiting, I traced my forefinger over my lips and sprung in my chair when I saw the three dots bouncing from my sister typing a reply.
Lani
Up to my ears in winged toddler duty. LOL. How about you?
A warm grin formed on my lips at the sight of the attached photo with the message. Elani’s daughter, Hedone, with her bright red hair, chubby cheeks, and the tiniest pair of tan wings splayed proudly. Her face was covered with what looked like strawberry jam, and it smeared across her shirt and dirtied her hands. A male pair of hands with dark hair wrapped around Hedone’s little body, keeping her from flying—Elani’s love god husband, Eros.
Me
