Page 22 of Her Dreadful Will

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“Only if I choose to bill you for this—and it seems silly to do that, when the problem was so easy to fix.”

“But your time—you had to come out here at night—”

He braced a hip against the counter, cocking his head and studying her with eyes like shards of green glass. “You seem desperate to pay me back in some way.”

“Desperate?” She scoffed, painfully aware of the heat rising to her cheeks again. “No, I just want to be sure you’re fairly treated.”

“Devoted to fairness and justice, are you?”

“You could say that.”

“Well then—maybe you’d let me take you to dinner tomorrow night? As payment for my time and trouble.”

And as my apology for leaving you helpless on the sidewalk, her conscience filled in. How could she say no?

“My treat,” she said. “You choose the place. You have my number—you can text me.”

Snatching her purse from the chair, she hurried out of the room and down the hall, her heartbeat rivaling the speed of her steps.

10

Soleil pulled her VW into a corner of the restaurant’s rear parking lot, where the mimosa trees bowed so low their fronds brushed the top of her car. A dark, quiet spot, where she could collect herself before meeting Dr. Gilliam.

She ran her finger through the film of dust coating the VW’s dashboard and flicked the gray fluff off her fingertip. The urge to wipe down the dashboard seized her; in fact, why stop there? The whole interior of the car could use a good detailing. Why was she here, preparing to have dinner with a stranger, when there was so much to do? And why hadn’t Soleil paid more attention to the niceties of cleansing magic? Luci had chosen to study cleansing magic; she had an affinity for it, and according to her, it made her life much easier. With cleansing magic, Soleil could have rendered the car’s interior spotless in mere seconds, provided she had the right charms on hand.

But like a short-sighted fool, Soleil had focused solely on her primary affinity. Sure, she’d dipped into the pool of nature magic, but only as far as it would serve her for mind-flexing and hyacle-making, and a little gardening.

She gripped the steering wheel, closing her eyes. The second-guessing and the urge to clean were symptoms of anxiety, plain and simple.

I have no reason to be anxious, or nervous. Breathe, Soleil. Center yourself. Peace, purpose, control.

She had sun-bathed all day again, trying to recharge her aura, and she felt stronger, if not satiated. Whatever had happened to her powers last night was no longer an issue; she had even sensed a couple of volispheres while in traffic on the way to the restaurant. But none of that mind-flexing business could happen now. This was a date—a nice, normal dinner with a nice, normal human. Tonight, she would not be a witch, but a girl. No, awoman. An attractive business owner, going out with a professional man.

Beautiful man, her heart whispered hungrily, with a pang of desire that surprised her with its intensity.

Another car slid into the spot beside hers, and she glanced over to see Dr. Gilliam’s elegant profile. A quivering thrill ran through her stomach.

Stop it, she berated herself.Pull it together, Soleil.

Taking a calming breath, she plucked her bag off the passenger seat and got out of the car.

Dr. Gilliam waved. He didn’t have glasses on tonight, and he wore jeans instead of slacks—dark jeans that made his legs look even longer and skinnier, like the ridiculously tall, thin boys in anime shows. One of Soleil’s college roommates had loved all things anime, and though Soleil mocked some aspects of the shows—like the extreme height and slenderness of all the main characters—she had secretly crushed on a few of the boys, particularly the magical or powerful ones. And here was a man who looked as close to one of those characters as humanly possible. Rather than pleasing her, it made her wary and jittery inside.

She plastered on her best smile. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

His green dress shirt nearly matched his eyes. He wore a light jacket over the shirt, and a pair of fingerless gloves on his hands—black wool gloves that showed little more than his nails. An odd choice for a night in late summer. The frayed finger holes of the gloves snagged Soleil’s attention, like a discordant note in the otherwise flawless sonata of his appearance.

“Thank you for coming.” The dentist tucked his phone into his back pocket. “I’ve never been to this restaurant, but it looks interesting. Under new management, apparently, with an all-new menu.”

He swallowed, his throat bobbing and his eyes darting away from hers.

So she wasn’t the only one who was nervous. The tightness in her chest eased a little. “Interesting is good. Let’s check it out.”

As they approached the front of the building, Soleil scanned the lettering printed on the sign— “Cheshire’s Steakhouse.”

Her mouth watered immediately. She’d gone through a vegetarian phase in junior high, but had never quite succeeded in conquering her love of meat. The food-source documentaries she’d watched only made her feel ashamed while she continued to savor all things bacon and chicken and steak—until she learned to pack up the guilt and set it aside.