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“No need for that. A colleague of mine has a son who’s looking for work. I’ll send him your way.”
“Uh… Thank you.”
“Oh it’s nothing. But I have to tell you… if you want to do business in this town, you absolutely must join the Mysthaven Women’s Business Council. I simply cannot let another day go by without inviting you. We meet every other Tuesday morning. Seven A.M. sharp.”
“Okay. Wow, that’s early.”
“Yes, well, we have to get started before businesses open for the day. We’re all women entrepreneurs, you know. Rowena Crump owns a bakery and sometimes brings her pastries.”
“Well, in that case…”
“I insist you come. No excuses. I’ll text you the address. And to sweeten the deal, I’ll make sure we have pumpkin spiced tea.”
“Consider me there. Is there anything I can bring? Mimosas, perhaps?”
“I wouldn’t hear of it. New members need not bring anything. Well, I must run. So much work to do before the weekend. Ta ta.”
With a swish of her skirt and a flicker of her fingers, she exited through the front door with the same pizzazz as when she came in.
After a few minutes, Willow decided to go find Kyle to see if he found the electricity short.
“Kyle?” she called out, heading toward the storeroom. But as she turned down a hallway, she noticed a figure in the corner of her eye. Following the shadowy image, she caught a glimpse of the man with the mustache. He turned his head as he was walking by, pausing his stride to fix his gaze on her briefly, his green eyes shimmering with a curious expression.
“Hey. You can’t be in here,” Willow cried, and ran after him. But he moved too quickly for her, and as she came upon the rear door that led to the alley, he was gone. With her heart pounding in her chest, Willow made sure to close the latch on the door as a chill swept over her, crawling up her spine and catching in her throat.
The gift was a nice thought, as bookshop-warming gifts go, that is. And Esme was so proud for having brought it. But one would imagine a mother would know her daughter had a black thumb. So it would follow that she’d think twice before giving Willow a planter box full of herbs. But Willow didn’t have the heart to tell her mother the plants would be dead within the week—even with Esme’s magic surrounding them.
“Now you’ll be able to serve the best mint juleps anyone has ever tasted,” said Esme. “And I brought you sage because I know you love it.”
“I do,” said Willow, thinking about that orange-sage olive oil cake she made over the summer. Of course it was her mother’s garden which supplied the herb, not her own attempt at husbandry. “I suppose I could add a blood orange sage martini to the menu. Or match Lord of the Rings with an elder sage cocktail.”
“That’s the spirit,” said Esme, sipping on something with blueberries and gin. “This could use a sprig of rosemary.”
And between the timespan of two blinks, a small stem of fresh rosemary appeared in her drink.
“You’re welcome,” said her sister Ivy with a twitch of her eyebrow. How Ivy did that eyebrow thing was a complete mystery to Willow. How she could conjure almost anything like that was beyond her understanding. Willow simply sighed because she knew better than to say anything to her sister for using magic in public. Ivy was a master at redirection, and even though it was the grand opening of Moonstone Spirits and Books, and the place was packed, not a single soul would notice the pocket of magic at their table. The only thing anyone would take a second glance at would be the seemingly unfair portion of beauty Willow’s sisters were blessed with. And Esme, too, who was practically ageless. But it was Bliss who turned the most heads. If they made a witchy Barbie doll, it would look like Bliss.
“Thank you my love,” said Esme. “Willow, take a mental note of this. Rosemary sprig. It makes all the difference in the world.”
“I’ll remember that,” replied Willow.
“Did you unpack everything yet?” asked Bliss, looking like the cat that ate the canary.
“Yeah, that box of things was the gift that kept on giving. What did you cast on it? A bottomless pit spell?”
“It’s just a simple dimensional charm,” said Bliss, grinning. “Bigger on the inside.”
“Yeah, sis. Thanks for packing my broomstick I’ll never use. My contractor almost saw it fall out of the box. And the Witchcraft for Dummies book? Very funny.”
Bliss snickered. “You love me.”
“You’re lucky I do, little sister.”
One of Willow’s joys in life was to remind Bliss of the sibling seniority she had over her, although there was only eleven months between them. And, being the middle child, Willow took what she could get in the hierarchy of her little family.
“We’re all proud of you,” said Esme, smiling warmly at Willow. One thing was for certain, she didn’t have a favorite daughter, and was always sure to let the three girls know that. “And just to give me peace of mind, I placed a little protection enchantment over all the entryways. That Dapper Dan you told me about might be harmless, but we don’t want to take any chances.”
Dapper Dan.That was one way to describe him. Willow wasn’t even sure she wanted to tell her mother about the mysterious intruder with striking green eyes, hipster vest, and a twirly mustache worthy of a silent film villain. After all, she wouldn’t want Esme to worry. But Willow was never good at keeping secrets—especially from a woman as intuitive as Esme Ravensong. In the end, Willow didn’t need to fret over it. Her mother was a practical woman, cool as a cucumber in the face of any potential threat. Nothing ever spooked her or alarmed her. She always took care of everything with composed alacrity. For Esme, something like a protection spell was akin to fastening one’s seat belt, or using an umbrella in the rain.
