Chapter One
Finley
Finley had had enough. His ogre of a boss had gone on a rampage earlier, and he'd even made a few employees cry. Why did they put up with the man's attitude? The money was good.
“Someone needs to do something about Ferguson,” Bob, one of his coworkers commented.
“But what can be done? He owns the company, so going to HR won't do any good,” Mary, another coworker replied.
Susan, one of the employees he'd made cry, leaned in. “Well, I heard of this bakery here in Briar Glen where you can buy spells in your baked goods. It's called Hexes and Oh's Bakery. Maybe one of us should buy a spell to make him, I don't know, itchy every time he yells, or something.”
“You really believe they sell spells?” Bob asked.
Finley spoke up. “Magick exists. It's not like in the movies, but it's real,” he put in.
“Well, fine, if you believe it's real, you can be the one to get the spelled baked good,” Bob told him.
“Fine. I'll go tomorrow,” Finley replied. It was Thursday, and he'd have to go before work, but with it being a bakery he was sure they were open early.
“Get a good one!” Susan said, and they all got back to work before they incurred his wrath again.
All day, Finley thought about the bakery and what kind of spell to get. He wanted Ferguson to get a taste of the misery he put people in all the time. Karma. Yeah, that was what he needed. A karma spell.
He made it home that night with that same thought in his head. Once he'd had dinner, he pulled out his laptop and looked up the bakery. Hexes and Oh's had a lot of great reviews. That was promising. He went to bed still thinking about the spell he was going to ask for. He just hoped it worked.
The next morning found him standing in front of Hexes and Oh's Bakery. He took a deep breath and stepped inside. His eyes were drawn to the pentacle on the wall over the menu of baked goods available. There were round tables with white, wooden padded chairs for seating, and along one wall rested a set of shelves with cookbooks and crystals. The smell of baked goods filled the air and made his stomach grumble despite having breakfast.
Behind the glass cases filled with everything from cupcakes to bread, stood a vision of loveliness. Her blonde hair was braided on both sides plus the top, exposing her heart-shaped face, and a pair of luminous hazel eyes zeroed in on him.
Sorcha
Sorcha had just set a tray of cannolis, her specialty, in the glass case, when the bell over the door tinkled, letting her know someone had entered the bakery. Her gaze lifted and she stared.
The man who'd entered was a fine specimen. He had black hair that brushed his shoulders, dark soulful eyes, an aristocratic nose, and finely chiseled jaw. Long hair on a man was her kryptonite. That's why she'd had a thing for her best friend for years. Not that he knew it.
“Welcome to Hexes and Oh's. I'm Sorcha. How can I help you?”
“Hi. I'm Finley.” He introduced himself. “Um, well, see, I'm looking for something special,” Finley hedged.
“Special in what way?” she asked.
“Someone told me that you sell spells in your baked goods. I know that sounds crazy…”
“Oh no, it's not crazy. It's true. We do sell a variety of spells. What kind of spell do you need?”
He ran a hand through his hair, and she wanted to touch it. “I was thinking of some kind of karma spell. You see, my boss is an ogre to everyone. He routinely makes employees cry with his harsh treatment, but people stay because he pays well. I want him to get the karma he deserves so he'll change his ways.”
“You came at the perfect time. I specialize in karma spells. You pick out the treat, and I'll whip up a spell for you,” she told him.
She watched him scan the cases before he nodded. “I think a cannoli,” he finally stated.
“My specialty and you're in luck because I have some empty shells waiting to be filled.? I'll just pop in the back and whip that spell up for you. I'll be back in a few minutes,” she said and stepped in the back.
She took down the ingredients she needed and mixed them into a small bowl of cream while chanting. Then she filled the cannoli shell, boxed it up, and carried it out to him.
“Here you go, Finley.” She handed the box to him.
“Thanks, Sorcha. Is there anything I need to do?” Finley asked.
