The smell of incense and dust violently surrounds us as we step past the velvet curtains hanging from the ceiling. Crystals and tarot cards line every available surface, and a bead curtain rattles as weenter to find a woman with a long shawl and a cascade of necklaces looking up.
“Welcome,” she says in a low voice, doing a double take when she notices our outfits and masks.
“Hi. We’d like a reading.” Squeezing me into a side hug, Rafael adds, “We’re on our first date.”
My eyes roll so far back I might just see into another dimension, but I don’t argue—he didn’t when I dragged him to the fanciest restaurant in town.
“Ah, love readings,” she says, eyeing me with a glint that feels a bit too personal. “My specialty.”
Why do I have a feeling her specialty is whatever the current client asks for?
She takes a seat at a small table in the corner and motions for us to sit across from her. I slide into the chair, bracing myself, while Rafael flops down with far too much enthusiasm, his knees knocking into mine under the table.
With a deep breath, the woman closes her eyes and reaches for a deck of tarot cards. Glancing at Rafael, then at me, she shuffles slowly. “Hold hands.”
“Hold what now?” I blurt.
She looks up, waiting. “For the reading to be accurate, your energies must be aligned.”
I glance at Rafael, who’s biting back a laugh.
“Gotta align those energies, don’t we?”
He reaches over and takes my hand, his grip firm but warm, the cool brush of his rings sending a shiver up my arm. His skin is calloused at the fingertips, like that of someone who’s lived a little hard,but his thumb moves gently across my knuckles. A little tingle sparks through me, impossible to ignore.
Just how many times have I dreamed of Rafael Gray holding my hand? Never in a million years would I have imagined it’d be inside a psychic’s shop.
The woman spreads the cards before her, face down, in a fan. She gestures for Rafael to pick one, and he reaches out dramatically, then selects a card. Once I pick one, too, she flips the first card over—the Lovers.
Of course.
She raises her brows, looking between us. “Ah. A powerful card, especially for those seeking connection.”
I try to keep a straight face, but Rafael, of course, is practically glowing.I’m not seeking a connection with you!I yell with my eyes.
The psychic turns my card over, and she looks up, almost surprised. “The Wheel of Fortune,” she says. “This card represents fate. Serendipity. A connection that appears by chance but is meant to be.” Her gaze flicks between us, holding each of us. “I see love in your future. A powerful love, one that neither of you can see coming.”
I let out a very unclassy snort.
The psychic narrows her eyes at me, a slight frown pulling at her painted lips. “The cards donotlie,” she warns.
“Oh, I’m sure you’re right. But people do—in fact, this isn’t even our first date. Or any date.”
The woman taps the cards emphatically. “The Wheel of Fortune. The Lovers,” she says in a grim tone. “These cards do not appear together by accident. There’s a bond here, whether or not you admit it.”
Rafael leans in. “Yeah, Freckles. Maybe you’re just in denial.”
“Or maybe this whole thing is just as random as shuffling a deck of cards,” I say pointedly.
The psychic collects her cards and straightens, eyeing me one more time. “You may doubt me now, but the cards have a way of revealing the truth.”
“Duly noted,” I say as we all stand.
I wait for Rafael to pay, then follow him as he walks out the door, but the psychic’s voice calls, “You. Skeptic woman.”
I glance back at her, the door handle gripped in my fist. “Yes?”
“A dark heart.”
