Early Saturday, June 23
“Hello?” I mumble into the phone. It’s six-thirty; once the bakery is open, I’ll be up at three, but for now I’m enjoying the extra hours of sleep.
“It’s me,” whispers Cassia, who’s probably calling from my parents’ café. “I overheard your mom talking to Granny Catbeam a few minutes ago. They know about the… ah… magical misfire, and they’re not happy. They plan on paying you a visit this morning.”
“Oh no.” Clutching my head, I come fully awake. Dealing with my mom is bad enough, but Granny represents the faerie community on the Riddle Hill elder council. Catbeam Spellman is charged with keeping faeries and our magic in line. If she knows I lost control and blew out a wall, then I’m toast.
“I’m sorry, Sophie,” murmurs Cassia.
“Thanks for the heads up,” I grumble. “I’d better getdressed.” Hanging up the phone, I push myself out of bed and stumble toward the bathroom, bemoaning my fate.
Teddy’s door opens just as I step into the hall. His shoulder-length hair is a tousled, blond mop, and he’s yawning, oblivious to the fact he has an audience. He’s wearing his rumpled beige slacks from yesterday and his blue shirt, which is unbuttoned, revealing a manly, muscular chest covered in fine, golden hair.
Why does Leslie T. Barker have to be so… hot? I have a sneaking suspicion that’s half the reason Auntie Dragonfly employed Teddy; she enjoyed the view.
Teddy glances up, sees me standing in the hallway in my shortie pajamas, and rears back in surprise, like he’s never seen a girl with long, bare legs.
Is he finding me as distracting as I’m finding him? I fold my arms and scowl, reminding myself there’s another werewolf I want to get to know better… much better… than this big, Nordic nuisance.
“Oh, um… are you… er… why don’t you go first,” he finishes lamely.
“I’ll be quick,” I tell him brusquely, squashing my momentary attraction like a bug at a July picnic. Then I recall my dad’s eel in the tub, and I feel like I ought to remind Teddy, given his overreaction yesterday. “But no showers until tonight.”
“Huh?” He peels his gaze away from my legs long enough to look me in the eye.
“There’s still that eel in the tub. You can’t use the shower until tonight.”
“Oh.” Teddy nods slowly. “Right.”
I think perhaps Teddy is still somewhat in shockfrom his arrest last night, which probably spooked him; he strikes me as a pacifist at heart. Either that, or he needs some coffee first thing in the morning to fire up his brain cells. His pupils appear partially dilated.
After washing my face and brushing my teeth, I toss on a pair of cutoff jean shorts and a gray tee, shove my feet into my green Converse sneakers, and head into the kitchen to feed Zosia. I put on a pot of coffee and ponder my upcoming showdown with Mom and Granny Catbeam, who won’t overlook my haphazard magic this time, which isn’t fair. It’s not my fault I didn’t inherit their amazing gatekeeping magic, the most powerful faerie magic anywhere. No, I had to inherit my dad’s kitchen magic, which is great for cooking and baking, but it’s really a limiting factor when you want to do so much more.
I’m lost in thought about what sort of punishment Granny’s going to mete out—because I have no doubt she’s going to make sure I pay for my mistake somehow—when Teddy wanders into the kitchen looking prepared to lead a safari. He’s wearing neatly pressed, knee-length khaki shorts; a tan, short-sleeved shirt with a breast pocket; a pair of thick, beige socks that reach almost to his knees; and steel-toed combat boots. Add a pith helmet and walking stick, and Teddy would be ready to explore Jumanji.
What does he think he’s going to encounter in my bakeshop?
Since I criticized his black leather pants last night, I figure I should keep my mouth shut this morning, but it’s hard not to giggle. I take a long swallow of my coffee as Istruggle to get myself under control. Pointing to the pot, I sputter, “Help yourself.”
Teddy gives me a curious glance, grabs a clean mug from the counter, and proceeds to scour it under hot water for thirty seconds. Geesh, this guy is a major germophobe. If this is his mother’s influence, she must be a real piece of work. Then again, she named her son “Leslie,” which just proves my point; Teddy probably never had a chance at being normal.
“What are your plans for today?” I ask.
He seems surprised by the question. “I’m your only employee, and your bakery is a mess. I’m here to help.”
“Well, you might want to delay your arrival until after my mom and grandmother visit.”
“Why?”
“I expect some faerie fireworks.”
Teddy’s eyebrows quirk upward. “Well in that case perhaps it would be helpful if I’m there for moral support.”
I purse my lips; he has a point. They may not be quite so angry if we have a witness. “You’d really do that for me?”
Teddy grins. “Of course. You’re the boss! If you’re going down in flames, I’ll be there right beside you.”
Shaking my head, I chortle. “Gee thanks.”
