And below that, a message:
Marcus C: Why is your face on my laptop. I don’t date. I don’t WANT to date. What is happening.
“Oh no,” I whispered.
Cassie leaned over to look. Her eyebrows shot up. “Who’s that?”
“The antique dealer. From downtown. The one whose shop made my phone go quiet.” I stared at the screen, at his bewildered face, at the profile that had appeared without him creating it. “He didn’t sign up for this. He doesn’t even have a dating app.”
He’s got nice eyes,Tequila observed.For a human.
“Not helping.”
I’m not trying to help. I’m making observations. It’s different.
Margaret plucked the phone from my hands, studying Marcus’s profile with unsettling intensity.
“Interesting,” she murmured. “The magic chose him.”
“The magic doesn’t get to CHOOSE for me. That’s the whole point—that’s literally what the scroll said. It shows me everything, but it can’t choose. I have to choose.”
“True. But notice what the magic did here.” Margaret tapped the screen. “All your other matches are being pulled from the past—men you’ve met, men you could have met, romantic possibilities you brushed against over the years. But this man isn’t from the past. You met him this morning. The magicreached out to him specifically. Created a connection. Without any history to draw from.”
“So?”
“So that’s different. That’s the magic doing something new.” She handed my phone back. “The question is why.”
The phone buzzed again. Another message from Marcus:
Marcus C: I’m serious. Make this stop. I was married for twenty-eight years. I buried my wife two years ago. I don’t DO this.
Something in my chest cracked open.
Because I recognized that. That wall. That absolute certainty that love was something that had happened to you once and was now over. That opening yourself up again was simply not an option.
I recognized it because I had my own version. Different circumstances, same bricks.
“I have to go talk to him,” I said.
Cassie’s eyes widened. “Now?”
“He didn’t ask for this. He’s probably freaking out.” I stood, grabbing my jacket. “And he’s the only person whose presence makes the buzzing stop. If nothing else, I owe him an explanation.”
“And if it’s something else?” Luna asked, far too knowingly.
“Then I’ll deal with that when I get there.”
Margaret’s voice followed me to the door: “The magic showed you something new, Diane. Pay attention to that.”
I didn’t answer. I was already out the door, phone burning in my pocket, heading toward the only quiet place I’d found in this entire disaster.
The phone buzzed. 1,456 matches now. But only one that mattered.
Only one I hadn’t gone looking for.
4
THE GRUMPY MEN’S CLUB
