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“Goody,” I grumbled under my breath.
As soon as they left, my first customer of the day walked through the door. I plastered a bright smile on my face, determined to get on with my day. I wouldnotwatch the clock to see when Wes would be walking through the door again. Luckily, the steady flow of traffic kept me busy enough. By the time an hour had passed, I’d sold half the honey Brooke had brought by, a Gucci purse that couldn’t be confirmed as real, but looked real enough to pass, and two hand-painted tarot decks. Plus dozens of crystals, incense, and oils.
The summer solstice was in three weeks. I did a third of my business for the year between Memorial Day weekend and June twenty-first. It was my version of Black Friday. While I wasn’t the only shop in town that sold new age merchandise, I had a reputation for reasonable prices, and being a known descendant of the zodiac had its draw.
At noon, Ella arrived. During the tourist season, she worked part-time for me on Thursdays, Fridays, and Saturdays. Even though I’d get a handful of mainland applicants every year, I preferred to give open positions to people I could trust to handle things if I had errands to run, and there were few people I could count on more than Ella.
I’d just gotten her cashbox set up when Wes came back. Without my latte. Figured.
“Hi, love,” Ella greeted Wes, giving him her brightest smile.
“He’s a menace,” I hissed. “Don’t make him think he’s welcome here.”
Ella shook her head and waved me off. She was just as bad as my grandma.
Wes rushed over and took my elbow, pulling me out of earshot of two ladies who were debating which summer scarf to purchase. Both our hands flared briefly, but not enough to cause a power surge. His brows were pinched and his eyes clouded with worry.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“I think I know what caused the earthquake.” He glanced out the window, like he had someplace urgent to be and already had one foot out the door. “Thora Chase is back in town.”
Wow. Thora hadn’t been back to Zodiac Cove in almost seven years. No wonder Wes looked so distraught. Finn Wilder was his best friend, and he was about to have his whole world turned upside down.
Finn and Thora had been legendary in high school. Total couple goals. Then something happened, the details were a little fuzzy, but it hadn’t been a nice, amicable breakup by any means. People gossiped about the two of them for years. More so because Thora was the mayor’s daughter. She went away to college on the mainland, but always came back for breaks, until one summer she just…didn’t. Not that I could blame her.
Finn kind of turned into a manwhore after that, so yeah. Messy.
“Does Finn know yet?” I asked.
“I don’t know.” Wes rubbed a hand down his face. “But I need to warn him before someone else slips up and says something stupid.”
“Definitely.” Finn was a great guy. I loved him dearly—close friendship with Wes notwithstanding—and he didn’t deserve to hear the news from someone who was fishing for gossip. Or worse, someone like Paige Newcomb. She was a nightmare on heels. “Why do you think Thora caused the earthquake?”
“It’s just a theory.” He glanced at the front door again, clearly eager to get going. “Have dinner with me Saturday night. We can talk about it then.”
Hell no. Was he serious? We needed to talk, but we could do that here, or at Capricorn’s, during the day. It didn’t need to be over dinner.
“I’m afraid I can’t.” I gave him my sweetest smile. The one that showed all my teeth. “I’ll be busy doing literally anything else.”
He looked down at me and smirked. “Calm down. It’s not a date.”
“It’s not?” Why was I disappointed? What was wrong with me? “I mean, of course it wouldn’t be. You’d have better odds of being struck by lightning than dating me.”
He held up his hand. “Then it’s a good thing I know right where to find some.” He headed for the door and paused, leaning a hand against the frame over his head. “I’ll pick you up after you close on Saturday.”
With that, he pushed off and stepped outside, hurrying toward whatever construction site Finn was working on today. I pressed a hand to my fluttering stomach. How did that just happen? Somehow, I’d gotten myself into a date-type thing with Wes Latham.
