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At the very least, things looked normal once more. The second Grayson had left to pick up Charles, she had changed the decor back to what it should have been.

It wasn’t exactly perfect—Grayson had thoroughly hidden some of her things—but the store once again looked lived in with haphazard fairy lights and patterned pillows and vases of colorful flowers.

Charles took a bite of his cake followed by a sip of tea, releasing a long, satisfied sigh. “Lovely, Luce,” he said. “Your hands have magic in them.”

They both chuckled at the joke. She glanced back at Grayson, who stood behind her, just barely stopping herself from saying I told you so. He glowered.

“Grayson, how are you getting on?” Charles asked, clearing his throat. “Come, sit. Have a chat with us.”

“Oh, um …” Grayson came and took the empty seat on Charles’s other side, folding his hands over one another on the table, then shifting them to his lap. Lucy wrinkled her brows.

“Lucy-Lu, how’s he doing?” Charles asked when Grayson did not respond.

“He’s okay …” Lucy said, trailing off on the last word.

“Have you been showing him the ropes?” Charles asked.

“Well, it’s only been a day,” she replied.

“Think of him as your assistant,” Charles said.

Assistant. Lucy liked the sound of that.

“And speaking of, now both of you assist me to the daybed,” Charles said. “I’m getting a wee bit tired.”

“Charles,” Lucy fake whined. “I haven’t been an assistant since I was like eighteen!”

“Hey, you might be the manager now, but don’t forget who the big boss is,” Charles said, puffing out his chest. Lucy laughed.

“All right, all right, you got it, boss.” She stood and wheeled him to the back, where she and Grayson both helped him up onto the bed.

After, Grayson stood to the side and watched as she used magic to fluff his pillows to the perfect angle and got him cozy under a blanket. With a snap of her fingers, she made a copy of Jane Eyre appear. It was one of Charles’s favorite books, and this was a special leather edition with gilded lettering and a golden bookmark.

“If you need anything else—” She was cut off by the sound of the front door chiming, as well as a jolt of magic hitting her, letting her know someone was at the door.

“Go, go,” Charles said, waving a hand. “If I need anything, I’ve got my magic, too.”

“Or just holler!”

She went to the door, where a familiar short woman with her brown hair up in a messy bun was entering with a stroller. It was Alba Rivera with her eight-month-old baby, Esmeralda. Her husband Mateo’s family ran the Mexican restaurant next door, and Mateo’s father, Francisco, was one of Charles’s friends. They were part of the same game-night group.

Lucy squealed at the sight of the baby, running to say hi to Esme.

“My favorite customer!” Lucy said, bending down to make exaggerated faces of glee at Esme, who was dressed in an adorable wood-land creature bodysuit and jumper set, complete with matching knit booties.

At Lucy’s expressions, Esme made cheerful noises in response, showing off her few little teeth.

“Everyone loves my daughter better than me,” Alba pretended to lament. She looked down at Esme, who lit up when she saw her mother, kicking her legs. Alba smiled. “I can’t even blame them, look at her!”

“She’s the cutest most precious angel munchkin ever,” Lucy said, talking in a baby voice. Esme giggled, then Lucy turned her gaze back to Alba. “How are you?”

“Other than the lack of sleep and the fact that this little parasite is bleeding me dry every hour because she’s hungry, I’m fantastic!” Alba said. They both laughed. “What about you?”

“Good! Charles just returned, come on, let’s go say hi.”

Lucy led Alba and the stroller toward the back of the store, where Charles was lying down on the daybed, cozy under the throw blanket. He was already busy reading, his large glasses set precariously low on his nose.

“Charles! Good to see you back where you belong!” Alba said. Charles looked up, smiling. He set his book down and hugged Alba from his position on the bed.