He’d placed a flash/smoke pot to the front of her that looked like an extra top hat and part of the setup. There were other props down there, so the one top hat didn’t seem out of place. Once he stepped on the foot pedal, the pot would puff out enough smoke to cover Harmony’s quick transformation. There was also a confetti cannon that would go off from the other direction. Thankfully, he had a buddy who’d helped him get the pyrotechnic permit—otherwise, the whole trick would be put on hold because of red tape. A police officer was at the back, with a fire extinguisher and a no-nonsense attitude.
He hung the mistletoe over the snowman and then waved his hands and said the magic words. The smoke rose and glitter filled the air. He heard rustling and began waving his arms. “Sorry, folks, I get a little carried away.”
Harmony stepped out of the smoke screen, waving like a princess on parade. “Merry Christmas!” she called out.
The crowd went wild. A few men whistled.
Breck stared. She was … stunning. Her hair was pulled up with soft ringlets framing her face. She’d sprayed glitter in it, and it winked in the waning sunlight. Her cheeks were also dusted with glimmer, and her eyes were lined with green that made them pop. But it was her lips that captured his attention—Christmas red and completely kissable.
He must have been staring for much too long, because Harmony turned to him and said, “Are you the magician who brought me here?” prompting his next line.
“Yes.” He cleared his throat so he could get sound out. “Yes. I brought you here to assist me with my next magical delight.”
She stood tall and strong, looking every bit as royal as a queen.
And he was falling for her—hard and fast.
And she was leaving.
They finished up the act. Several girls rushed forward. “Can we get your autograph?” they begged Harmony.
She fluttered her hand over her chest, obviously flattered. “Of course.” She signed their papers, asking them about school and Christmas lists and getting an earful in return.
“Bye.” She waved after them until they turned the corner. “Sorry.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and accepted the jacket he offered.
“For what?”
“You’re the big star. I shouldn’t be hogging the attention.”
He shook his head. “You deserve it. Besides, who wants my autograph when they can have a winter princess’s?”
She swatted playfully at him in response.
He winked, even though his heart was sinking to his shoes. She would leave for Christmas and not come back. She’d said she needed to find herself again, to immerse herself in home and family and heal.
What did he have to offer to keep her here, anyway? A half-baked MyHeartChannel and a bag full of magic tricks.
And his heart. Maybe. He liked her so much, but he wasn’t sure he loved her. He barely knew her, and yet he’d already memorized the way her lips dipped in the middle and her nose turned slightly up. He knew she preferred her hot chocolate without whipped cream but with a shot of hazelnut, and that she’d played the flute in junior high but gave it up because she wanted to take a literature class that was taught at the same time.
She was going to find herself; maybe it was time he did the same. He glanced down at the props they’d used to set the stage and pondered what he’d done with his time this week. Nothing the world would deem productive. He scoured secondhand stores for cheap items he could use for their next show. He edited video. Maybe he could get a job doing that somewhere.
“You look so sad; what’s the matter?” Harmony bumped him with her shoulder. She had added a pair of gloves to her jacket. Her legs had to be ice pops by now. He needed to get her inside where it was warm.
“This has been a lot of fun. I didn’t think I’d ever do more than card tricks. You’ve made a huge difference in my show this year. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. But why the long face?” She put the last bit of tinsel in a rubber tote they used to carry everything to his car.
“Because Christmas is almost here and the magic will end.” He released a huge sigh.
“End? But your channel is just getting going. And your street performance permit is for two more months.”
He shook his head. Part of him wanted to tell her that without her, the channel would not succeed. He’d done it before. Tried other angles. Nothing had broken over 250 views. But he couldn’t put that on her shoulders. It wasn’t her fault she was amazing, that the camera loved her and his viewers did too. She added wide-eyed innocence into the potion he created with his illusions and card tricks, and without it, there was no fizz, pop, or sparkle. Their next show would be their last show together.
“It’s time to hang up my magic hat and grow up.” He managed a grin, as if the idea of leaving this behind—saying goodbye to her—wasn’t tearing him up inside. He grabbed the tote and hefted it up as he walked toward car.
She held the card table. “Making people happy is a grown-up job. Tons of people do it for a living.”
“Name one.”
