Gold dust.
Chapter Three
PANDA’S WAS STILL BURSTINGin the seams when I returned. It was a few minutes past six in the evening, and with the power still out, most of Silver Mist’s locals had decide to take advantage of the only place in town with electricity. No vacant seats on the counter, no empty chairs or anything, and the noise level was ten times louder than usual, like people inside were trying to drown out the sound of rain and thunder.
Nevertheless, there was a strong sense of togetherness in the air, and it made me cast a wistful look on my surroundings, thinking that this was one of the reasons why I had really looked forward to moving to Silver Mist. It was easy to drown in anonymity when living in the city, and that was what had exactly happened to me in California. It was also what I hoped to change by moving to a small town, and Silver Mist had certainly been more I could ever hoped for.
I was a real person here, and I got to enjoy real conversations and real friendships with other real persons.
“Hello again.”
My heart skipped a beat at the familiar voice, and when I turned around it was exactly as I had feared and hoped at the same time. It was Mr. Handsome, this time with an elegant gray overcoat thrown over his suit, and the golden locks of his hair slightly wet. The sight made me want to run my hands through it, and the urge was so strong I found myself hastily clasping my hands behind my back.
“H-Hey...” I stopped and verbally foundered, remembering too late we hadn’t been able to exchange names.
The corners of his lips curved up. “It’s Paul Theodore.”
Paul.His name was Paul. A simple, traditional name, and it suited him. Returning his smile with a tentative one of my own, I tried my best to keep my voice steady as I introduced myself. “I’m, umm, Blair—-”
His grin widened, and I stopped speaking.
Oh, cast it.
Not him, too—-
“Your name is really Blair—-”
“Don’t say it,” I pleaded.
“And you’re training to be a full-fledged witch?” he finished with a chuckle.
“Ha. Ha. Ha.” I made a face as Paul’s broad shoulders rocked in silent mirth.
“I’m sorry, Blair. But you must admit – it is amusing.”
“Not when it’s the 1692nd time you’ve heard the joke,” I retorted, “and every time it’s at my expense.”
“1692?” he echoed incredulously, and his grin widened. “1692 is—-”
“The year the Salem Witch trials began,” I cut him off with another groan, and Paul laughed yet again as my face flamed at the realization of what my subconscious had made me do. “I’m sorry. It must be my hunger acting up. I haven’t had lunch—-”
“That’s not good,” he said with a quick frown. “Let’s get you fed—-”
“Oh, but I’m just here for a quick bite,” I protested, worried that he’d think I had been angling for a date. “I still need to head out of town after—-”
Paul arched a brow, asking, “A date?”
“No!” The denial came out a little more heartfelt than I wanted, and when I saw Paul’s lips curve into an amused smile, I could only cringe internally while hoping for the floor to swallow me up.Twenty-six, Blair! Start acting like you’re twenty-six, and not an eight year old with your first schoolgirl crush.
Clearing my throat, I said, “It’s for work.”
“New case for CSI?”
I didn’t answer right away. Earlier, I had been too flustered by finally getting to talk to him that I hadn’t remembered to ask him any questions. But now that I was just a little less dazzled -—
If he had been able to see past the agency’s spell to recognize my CSI manual, what did that make him?
“You’re suspicious of me,” Paul observed in amusement.
