I froze time. The way she'd said that was cause for concern on more than one level. As her best friend and roommate, Sophie might have known what she was, which wouldn't be entirely unusual. The food comment stumped me. I’d seen a regular increase in sales since I’d opened, so nothing about the last three weeks had seemed unusual.
But there it was. A tiny spark of Lexi’s witch magic in the cookies, the cupcakes, the fruit pies. So small it hadn’t even registered beneath the immense power she put off regularly. I knew it wasn’t intentional, but likely a side effect of using the magic to help her keep up. If I hadn’t been planning a talk already, it would’ve ramped up the urgency.
Straightening, I resumed time and smiled at Sophie. “Almost addictive?” I hedged.
She shook her head and wrinkled her nose. “It’s not addictive. Just delicious. It’s the love she puts into her baking, Mr. Rivers. That’s all. There’s no need to worry about it.”
The serious tone of voice said she knew I knew. I supposed it was hard not to know when Lexi had so much trouble controlling it under pressure. Sophie nodded and left with her cookie.
When closing time came, I locked the door and turned my sign off, then popped into the back to find Lexi cleaning, coat tied around her waist. Though I made excuses about getting information from someone my powers didn’t work on, I really did enjoy her company. It was almost fun to talk to someone who didn’t bow under the pressure of my influence.
“If you’d like to go get ready, I can finish up here and pick you up at eight,” I said.
Lexi looked around and bit her lip. “Are you sure? There’s still a lot to finish up.”
“It’s not a problem.” A snap of my fingers would take care of everything. I just had to do it before her power aura got too far away. “Prepare yourself for an exquisite dining experience.”
“Not a date,” she repeated, a smile pulling at her mouth.
I gently pushed her toward the back door, fingertips tingling where they touched her skin. “See you at eight.”
As soon as the door clicked shut behind her, I looked around and snapped. The dishwasher hissed to a stop and its now clean contents appeared in their spots on hooks or in cabinets. Counters sparkled and a lemony fresh scent emanated from the floors. I shut my computer down and locked up the office. Since there was no prep to do on Saturdays, I popped back to my house.
My home in Boston was a veritable treasure trove of ancient history that any museum in the world would kill for. It was also why I never had people over. Humans couldn’t be trusted with the secrets I kept there, so I kept my trysts limited to their homes or hotels. Despite that, I had the strangest feeling that tonight was a turning point for something, for better or worse. After I changed into more formal black slacks, a purple button-down shirt, and a black blazer, I headed back to Harbor Point.
Lexi opened the door in a black retro-style dress with red and orange accents that matched her braided hair, a single necklace with a carnelian teardrop pendant hanging just above her cleavage. Another carnelian stone sat among a bracelet of tourmaline, but it was minimal compared to how much jewelry she normally wore. This was an elegant side I didn’t know existed, and the difference in her usual energy was astounding.
It was louder. More chaotic. Familiar, almost, but I couldn’t pin it down. I’d always assumed her jewelry was a statement, something that went with her goth vibe. Now I wondered how many of those were spelled, talismans that… contained, protected, didsomethingthat altered her aura.
“You didn’t technically say what kind of restaurant, so I just…” She trailed off, suddenly unsure as she brushed her hands down the front of the skirt.
“Perfect.” I frowned and cleared my throat, fighting the urge to push into her apartment for a repeat performance. “No, you look perfect for where we’re going.”
She took the arm I offered and I escorted her to the black and red Bentley Continental. Her eyes widened when she saw it. “You drive this?”
I grinned and opened the door for her. “What did you assume a bakery owner drove?”
“I don’t know, a Charger? Mustang?” She buckled as I got behind the wheel. “Some kind of Honda? This is a rich man’s car. Did you rent this to impress me?”
I barked out a laugh. “No, I can assure you I own it, hence the dinner. We don’t really know much about each other, and I’d like to change that tonight.”
The drive to the Back Bay district was only ten minutes or so, and her wide-eyed expression said she didn’t get off campus often. Or maybe it was just this area.
A valet was waiting outside the Italian restaurant when we pulled up. I tossed him the keys and went around to open the door for Lexi, but she was already getting out. The amused tilt of her lips as she looked around made me wary.
“Something wrong?” I asked, holding my arm out.
She shook her head. “Just remembering something Sophie said a while back. You actually brought me to Back Bay for dinner.”
Inside, the host seated us in the empty lounge. “Have you ever been here before?”
“Like, this place specifically or here in this part of town?”
“This part of town.” A server came by and, with Lexi’s permission, I ordered for us. When another brought our drinks, a faint frown between her eyebrows appeared.
“No, I haven’t.” She watched the girl leave, then eyed the obvious slip of paper on the corner of the table. “Do you come here a lot? They seem to know you pretty well. And why is it so empty?”
I shrugged, wadding the phone number up and tossing it. “I paid them to close early tonight, and I don't bring dates here if that's what you're asking.”
