I clammer through the drawers in search of my contacts—I have to put them in to get a better look. My heart is racing as I fumble through the task, sacrificing two dailies to the drain before I’m fitted with a full set. Inching closer to the mirror, jamming my stomach into the vanity ledge, I make out the wordsBeguiling Books. What the heck?
Darting from the bathroom, I run to grab my phone, returning to snap a picture and send it to Ari.
It’s growing . . . What am I going to do?
Ari
What the hell? What does the book say? I can’t make it out.
Beguiling Books
Ari
What does that mean?
I don’t know, but I’m freaking the fuck out. We need to find that witch.
Ari
First off, did you just type the F word? ?? I’m working on it, I promise. I researched all night and came up with almost nothing online other than the old legends we already know. Did you find anything?
It was called for, this is nuts. And no! I was at Mabel’s most of the evening.
Ari
Oh, how was the book? Beguiling?
That’s not funny! There was no book, it was a setup to get me to their family dinner.
Ari
WHAT? You’re joking.
Nope
Ari
Wow. I knew Mabel was a meddler but damn . . . How was it?
This conversation deserves more than a text, so I hit send on her name and the phone barely rings before she picks up. “I know we need to discuss the whole, you’re cursed thing. And we will, but tell me you and Sam are dating, first.”
“No, we’re not. But I did have fun teasing him about going to Max’s games.”
“You didn’t. I’m telling you, this man does not fall for anyone, and yet, he’s smitten in fewer days than I can count on my fingers. Actually, are we sure you didn’t ask Irina to put a spell on him specifically?”
“Rude,” I burst in. “Maybe he just finds my personality endearing, or I’m just new and it’s all a game.”
“Or, and hear me out, he has a fetish for giant white period panties, and you happen to be the only woman to uncover his secret.” I can hear her snickering to herself as she says it.
“Hilarious. They aren’t that big, thank you very much. Seriously though, we’re getting off topic. What are we going to do?”
“Well, I didn’t find much online. Maybe there’s something at Black Kettle . . . an old spooky book of spells or something historical. You need to see what you can dig up. I’m coming over tonight to formulate a plan. I’ll meet you at the Brewhouse after work. We can grab coffee and go to the cottage to brainstorm.” Ari must be getting ready to head out for work. I can hear the click of her heels as she walks around and the not-so-subtle clang of her door closing.
“Okay, I’ll see what I can find. See you later. Oh, and Ari . . . Thanks. I’m glad I don’t have to do this alone.”
“It’s not every day that your goody-two-shoes bestie shows up with a random, and might I add, not that well done, tattoo. Don’t mention it.” I scoff at her statement but she isn’t wrong. This is not top-quality work, although the vines are much better than the heart itself.
We hang up, and I step into the steaming hot shower spray, avoiding my reflection like the plague. Even though I know it won’t work, I spend extra time scrubbing at the tattoo as if by some chance this really is all a big joke. After ten minutes of wasted effort and my skin begging for relief, I jump out and ready myself for the day. It’s not cool enough for long sleeves in the shop yet, but long sleeves are a must if I intend to keep this tattoo from Beau, and everyone else for that matter.
