I tried not to scoff.End what’s empty?I had another whole year before I could do that. It turned out our marriage contract took the wordbindinga bit too seriously. Not only were the clauses ironclad, and I hadn’t made it past that never-ending customer service loop, but I was legally bound to a man who liked me about as much as anyone likes stalefruitcake.
Yeah, my marriage—the institution I’d once valued deep in my soul—was basically a burnt brick of the most hated holiday dessert, and no amount of icing could make it more appealing.
I know. I’d tried. On that beach, we’d agreed to live and date separately, and I really thought I could go back to my normal life. The one perk of my missing magic was that the universe had stopped trying to blow up every one of my meet-cutes. I was dying to find the perfect boyfriend to flaunt in Grant’s face.
I even dreamed about it—showing up at the company ice skating outing, twirling hand in hand with some guy while Grant watched from the sidelines. Letting the mystery man warm my frozen fingers during the public tree lighting, with stars twinkling overhead.
But the truth was, I could barely sit through a coffee date. The last time a man asked me out, I spilled the latte on myself, on purpose, just to end it early. I couldn’t shake the twisting ache inside my chest. The whole thing felt wrong.
I always knew I’d take my wedding vows seriously, and I guess that meant even the ridiculous ones I’d recited as a joke.
Which pissed me off, because the last guy was a firefighter who’d rescued a box of kittens from a burning building. I couldn’t even flirt with a hero over scones.
Grant Delaney ruins everything.
And while I spent my evenings with a bowl of peppermint ice cream, watching every version ofPride and Prejudice, Grant was probably working his way through the city’s most eligible women. He definitely wasn’t Darcy, pining over the woman who’d argued with him at every turn.
At least we used to argue. Now there was only this strange distance, like the live wire that once sparked between us had become the wire we couldn’t touch.
I blew out a breath and paid the old woman for the heartstones. The line behind me was getting restless, snow boots tapping against the floorboards as if I were personally holding up their happily-ever-after purchases.
Outside, the snow was falling heavily, and I had a long walk back to the agency. The heartstones had used up all the money I had budgeted for a cab. Still, I lingered, squinting through the flakes while bracing for the groans piling up behind me.
“You don’t happen to sell sun crystals that ward off winter weather, do you?”
The old woman shook her head, almost affronted that I’d dared to ask for anything besides a white Christmas.
I wrinkled my nose. “No groundhogs hiding in the back who won’t see their shadow?”
Someone tapped me on the shoulder, and I sighed, tugging on my mittens and hat. “It was worth a shot. Merry Christmas, then. Enjoy being cold.”
I stepped onto the quaint cobblestone sidewalk, ordered a steaming coffee from a street vendor, and started the walk back to the agency. The city was beautiful this time of year, even though I would’ve preferred crawling under a mountain of blankets to facing the chilly wind sneaking down the back of my neck.
There was energy in the air, an organic magic born from children’s laughter, the scent of roasted nuts and vanilla drifting from storefronts, and glittering garlands strung from everystreet lamp.
A giant Christmas tree towered in the city center, softening the hard lines of stone and steel the way holidays always seemed to do. Music floated from street corners, familiar carols threading through the crisp air as I hummed along.
By the time I pushed through the glass doors of the agency and swiped my badge through the turnstile, my toes were frozen solid and my coffee had cooled to lukewarm. But I had a stack of cases to sort through, and countless more waiting in storage on the basement level. There were enough second-chance miracle cases to keep our small team busy until all the reindeer retired to some tropical hotspot, though I’d be retired long before that.
The trick was finding the perfect one to start with. I had until this afternoon to select my choice, and I wanted a challenge. Something to take my mind off my problems. Since I couldn't keep funding my secondhand magic forever, this might be my first and last case in my new position. I wanted it to be special.
I tossed my half-empty coffee into the bin and slipped into the elevator before the doors closed. A woman wrapped in a thick scarf pressed a button for one of the lower floors, but I was headed to the top.
“Twelve, please,” I said. She nodded and hit the button until it glowed.
The doors had almost sealed shut when a shadow slipped through the crack. They glided open again, and in stepped Grant Delaney—shoes polished, khakis perfectly creased, and a charcoal cashmere coat fitted across his shoulders like a tailor’s love letter. The classic power look that turned heads, or, apparently, opened elevator doors.
Meanwhile, I was bundled in the puffiest coat I could find. I looked like a Thanksgiving Day parade float that had escapedonto city streets, and I was still freezing. But while I took up physical space in the elevator, he filled the rest with his presence. It was a miracle there was any room left for the poor woman getting off on level three.
“Good morning, Mr. Delaney,” I said, keeping my chin notched high and wishing I hadn’t thrown out my coffee; at least then I’d have something to do with my hands.
“Ms. Spellman.” His voice wasn’t cold… or warm. It was completely neutral—gray, like the clouds outside my apartment window this morning.
I chewed on the inside of my lip. Grant hadn’t called me Spells in…wow, it had been a long time. Months. I was Ms. Spellman now. He was Mr. Delaney. And we were so distant.
“Looks like more snow is in the forecast.” I squeezed the cotton in my sleeves like they doubled as stress balls.
“Yes. It’s been unusually stormy this winter.” He smoothed a hand down the front of his coat, fingers sliding over expensive wool.
