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“It’s harmless,” Morelli said. “Spells aren’t real.”

“Then how do you explain this huge pimple on my forehead?”

“Doughnuts?”

Okay, call me overly sensitive, but I’d just had my underwear insulted and been told I got a monster zit from eating doughnuts. Not stuff a naked woman wants to hear. Especially if it has some merit. I leaned forward, feet apart for stability, hand on hip, eyes narrowed, wisps of smoke possibly curling off my scalp. “Excuse me?”

“Shit,” Morelli said. “You look really hot like that.”

I felt my eyes almost pop out of their sockets and my arms were involuntarily waving in the air. “I’m having a fit of outrage, and you’re still thinking about sex? What the heck is wrong with you?”

“I can’t help it. I’m in launch mode. And if you want me to calm down you need to stop waving your arms and jiggling your breasts in my face.”

“I’m not jiggling my breasts in your face. My breasts are way over here, and your face is way over there.”

“That could change.”

“I don’t think so. I’m getting dressed.” I looked around. “Where are my clothes?”

Morelli looked into the living room. “Uh oh.”

I followed his line of sight. Bob was off the couch, sitting in front of the television, eating my underwear.

“Drop them,” I said to Bob. “This instant!”

Bob jumped up and ran into the kitchen with what was left of the granny panties.

“No problem,” Morelli said. “He’s eaten worse. He ate an entire couch once. Not that this was a small meal. There’s enough material in those bloomers to cover a Volkswagen.”

“Are you comparing my ass to a Volkswagen?”

“I’m going to count to ten and we’re going to start over,” Morelli said. “It’ll go smoother this time since you’re already naked.”

Good lord, what the heck was I doing? I was deliberately picking a fight with Morelli. The granny pants hadn’t worked and now I was resorting to a breakup fight.

“Hold it,” I said. “Don’t move.”

I went to my closet, wrapped myself in a robe and returned to Morelli.

“Here’s the thing,” I said. “I’m confused. I’m getting relationship pressure from my mother. I’ve possibly got a curse put on me by your grandmother. And I might have a bladder infection.”

“I can deal,” Morelli said. “Go to the doctor. Drink cranberry juice. And do whatever you have to do to unconfuse yourself. I’ll check in with you tomorrow.”

I was relieved that he was so understanding, but disappointed that he didn’t put up more of a fight to stay.

• • •

I opened my eyes and squinted at the clock. It was almost nine in the morning. The day had started without me. I dragged myself out of bed and stood in the shower until the water ran cold. I got dressed and spent some quality time with Rex while I ate a bowl of cereal, and he ran on his wheel. I brushed my teeth, pulled my hair back into a ponytail, and grabbed my bag. I opened the door to leave and almost ran over Grandma Bella, who was in the hall, in front of my door. She put her finger to her eye and cackled.

I jumped back, slammed the door shut, and locked it. I hauled my phone out of my bag and called Morelli.

“Your Grandma Bella is here,” I told him. “She’s out in the hall.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure. Scary old Italian lady dressed in black, right?”

“She doesn’t drive. How would she get there?”

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