Page 6 of Magic & Mochas

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I stomped down the stairs, trying not to let my irritation at this unplanned hiccup ruin what little momentum I had managed to scrape together over the last twenty-four hours.The dim and dusty interior of the old café seemed to mock me and my admittedly whimsical aspirations.

Tears pricked at the back of my eyes, but I refused to let them fall.I had promised myself I was done feeling sorry for myself.I wouldnotwallow in the all-too-familiar sense of betrayal Mr.Chevalier had just evoked in me.So what if my first interaction with someone outside of my family had turned out to be another sort of betrayal?

It could have been worse—there could have been a werewolf with rabies behind that door instead of a very grumpy and very muscular shadowmancer!My former fiancé didn’t hold a candle tohim.

I sighed.Focus, Clove.Moping about wouldn’t help me show that bastard of a warlock that I was doing just fine without him.That my heart hadn’t been absolutely shattered into a thousand pieces that night.

If heartbreak had a smell, I was convinced it would be burnt caramel and rotten fish with a shot of betrayal—but I was determined to smother it with cinnamon and freshly brewed coffee.

I needed to focus on tackling one problem at a time, and I knew the perfect place to start.After all, the shop wasn’t about to clean itself.

So I tied my long, dark hair into a ponytail, hung my coat on a peg, and rolled up my sleeves.After raiding the supply closet, I enchanted all of the items I found there.I sent the duster up to the ceiling to take care of the cobwebs, had a cloth and a bucket of water get to work polishing the windows, and ordered the broom to sweep the floor.

Next, I set about getting the pastry case cleaned out and the counters polished.As I moved behind the counter, I could tell where Mrs.Virgil had kept her outdated coffee machine by the distinctive square of dust-free, stained countertop.I smiled to myself as I imagined where I would put my own machinery.

A spark of excitement came back as I contemplated what drinks to put on the menu.Unlike while I was working in an office full of uninitiated humans, in Willowmere I could proudly walk down the street with a cup of coffee that blew me steam kisses or changed colors with every sip.For once in my life, I could truly let my imagination run free.

“So this is where you ran off to, Clove.”

Ice flooded through my veins, and my smile died a quick and painful death.I slowly turned to face the front door, and mentally kicked myself for not locking it behind me.I hadn’t thought I’d need to here.

Leaning against the doorframe stood the absolute last person I wanted to see right now.The morning sun gilded the edges of his ginger hair but cast his icy blue eyes in shadow.Instead of his usual hoodie and jeans, today he wore a tailored tunic and trousers, with his grimoire attached to his leather belt.A smile curved his generous lips, but it didn’t quite reach his cold eyes.

Schooling my face into a mask of cool indifference, I asked, “What areyoudoing in Willowmere, Rasmus?I was under the impression this place was far too much of abackwoods townfor such an exalted potions master like yourself?”

“I came to getyou,of course.You ran off before I had a chance to explain things.”His voice took on that condescending tone I hated.

“Things seemed quite self-explanatory to me.”The memory was seared into my mind.

“Nyssa was only helping me with—”

“I have absolutelynodesire to learn what she washelpingyou with,” I cut him off coldly.“I have a lot of work to get done, and no time to chat.There’s the door; I trust you can see yourself out.”

“Ididhear a ridiculous rumor that you’d purchased this rickety old tear-down.”Rasmus’ lip curled as he glanced around at my pride and joy.How I had ever fantasized about kissing those lips now baffled me.

“Word travels fast,” I muttered.It had only been, what?An hour?Two?

“I’m sure there’s some loophole where you can get a full refund if you tell that centaur you’ve changed your mind.We can still put a down payment on that apartment you liked so much.”He took a few steps towards me.

I resisted the urge to take a few steps back.“Too little, too late.I’m no longer even remotely interested in cohabitating with you.”

“Don’t be like that, Clover,” he crooned, using his pet nickname for me.“If you’re really that set on running your little business here, we can make it work.I’ll even help you create an inspired new drink menu.”

I gritted my teeth.“Don’t call me that.”He always did this; changing strategies until he got what he wanted, and eventually convincing me to do whathewanted instead of whatIwanted.“And I don’t need anyone’s help to come up with the menu.”

He raised his eyebrows, lifting his hands in a fake gesture of acceptance.“Alright, if that’s what you want.But are you really sure you don’t want the help of arealpotions master?”His tone dripped with fake honey.

“I don’t need to be a potions master to make a decent cup of coffee.”Were we really having this argumentagain?!

“Those machines the humans invented are cute and all, but they’re no replacement for a real warlock’s brew.”He advanced another step, until only a handful of feet separated us.

“At least my espresso machine won’t betray me.”My voice wobbled, despite my best efforts to keep it steady.If only Silas were here; he would have chased him off with one swipe of his needle-sharp claws.

“A little commitment issue doesn’t have to be the end of the world.Of us.”Rasmus stepped right up into my personal space and reached out a hand as if to touch my face.

I slapped it away.“The only commitment I want now is to creating the perfect latte foam.”

Rasmus’ calm demeanor cracked.“What do you want, Clover?An apology?Some money?If that’s what this is about—”