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“You know what I want?” He smiles tightly. “I want you to call that nerd. What’s his name? Steven?”
My expression drops. “Sterling?”
He snaps his fingers. “That’s the one. He knows how to fix this place, doesn’t he?”
Of course, he does. There’s something about his presence that calms the cottage down, and he hasn’t been around since we were planning for the event. Well, that era has come and gone, and I doubt he’ll be doing anything more than mowing our lawn for the foreseeable future.
Of course, I know Leo really knows his name—he has to. He’s just being a jerk, and even though Sterling is also an ass, it’s annoying. Why did I want Leo to come back around again? He can fuck right off.
Sterling could probably calm the house down in a second flat if I called him—not that he would tell me why he has such an effect on the place—but he’s mad at me, and I’m mad at him. I’m not sure which of us has the right to be upset, but I won’t be the one who backs down first. Not this time.
“I’m not doing that.” I turn my back on him and shuffle around the kitchen, collecting things for a sandwich.
“Fine, fine.” He sighs and tentatively moves back toward the stool. “Can I sit now?”
I get the feeling he isn’t asking me. He’s asking the house, but the stool flies away from him in response. It clatters against the wall, and one of the legs falls off, leaving the stool crumbled on the floor.
“I think that’s a no,” I say, stifling a laugh. “Probably best to keep upright for now.”
“Terrific.”
I pass Leo his peanut butter sandwich and give him a sympathetic smile. “She’ll settle down, I’m sure.”
No sooner are the words out of my mouth than the house starts pouring rain.
Inside.
A total mismatch for the bright, sunny weather Mother Gaia picked for today.
Leo groans. “Motherf—!”
Chapter 13
Sterling
An unknown number calls in the middle of my workday. 207 area code—the same as everyone else in Maine—but it could still be a scammer. No matter how many times I change my number, the bots always seem to get a hold of it. No protection spell can keep me safe from them.
I stare at my phone, contemplating. I wouldn’t usually answer an unknown number—who would?—but a tug in my gut says it’s important. Maybe Pops had a doctor’s appointment I forgot about, and something went wrong. Or maybe Auggie got into trouble; it’s rare, but it happens.
No. It’s more likely that Val is the one getting himself into a pickle, and I’m going to have to get him out of it.
I sigh and answer the phone. “You’d better not be calling from jail—”
“I’m not,” the unfamiliar voice says. “But thanks for your concern, pookie.”
“Oh.” I blink at Antoni from across the room. “Sorry. How can I help you?”
More importantly, who is calling me pookie?
“Is it the Moonlit Tavern?” Antoni whispers, creeping closer. He’s always been a gossip, and while it sounds like he’s asking about work, I’m sure he’s digging for information. “I know they had a question about—”
I shake my head, and thankfully, Antoni stops talking.
“You can come get this house to stop raining on us,” the voice on the other side says.
The house—rain?
Oh.
