“Sorry,” I say, raising my eyes.
“You don’t need to be sorry,” she says. “I get it. You’re pretty closed off. Like, I don’t want to force my friendship on you.”
I’ve shut out Mom and Rafe. I’m not going to do that here. “I’m a witch. Kind of.”
“Huh?” She blinks at me. “What did you say?”
“I left home because the women in my family are basically witches and I didn’t have my power. I was ashamed. It was hammered into me that this was a huge secret, so I’ve never told anyone.”
“Are you for real? No bullshit?”
“My magic is in my perfume. It’s real.”
“What about your mom?”
“Her too. All the firstborn daughters in my family.”
“That’s why you moved around so much?” Her eyes are huge, food forgotten. “Are you being chased by a secret society of witch-hunters that survived from the Inquisition?”
“What? No, God, why would you think that?”
“Honestly, it’s the plot of a lot of books I read when I was younger,” she admits. She casts a glance at my face as it to check if I’m lying. “I wasn’t expecting this.”
“What do you mean?”
“I thought at first you had a toxic family and went no contact,” she says, fixing the pearl headband that has slipped over her forehead. “Then your mom showed up and she seemed cool. A witch was not on my bingo card. I assume it’s a secret. I won’t tell Jayne. What can you do?”
I might as well spill all the beans since I’ve already tipped the jar. “We can change emotions with our perfumes,” I say.
That’s it. I’ve said it all. I’ve told another person our greatest secret without my mother’s approval. Yet it feels right to tell Ana in a way I could never imagine feeling with anyone else I’ve met. I cast a quick look around the room, half expecting the Peony Goddess to send down lightning to smite me, although that’s more of a Greek god thing.
A little furrow has appeared between Ana’s brows. “Not to minimize what you’re saying, but I thought all scent could do that,” she says. “Like how lavender is relaxing.”
“That’s true. My grandmother suspected our ability was related to that, but what we do is more targeted.”
“Wow, cool.” Ana is taking it all in stride, exactly the way I hoped. “Wow.”
More food comes—a pasta with morels, which we share, along with tender zucchini—and we take a moment to eat.
“I hate to ask, but have you been bewitching me?” She looks uncomfortable. “That perfume you gave me?”
“No! I would never.” I think about Kelsey. “Not on purpose.”
“I feel there’s more to that story.”
“Your turn first. Put up your stakes.”
“My what?”
“Stakes. Isn’t that what you say in poker?”
“Have you ever played?”
I shake my head and she sighs.
“Let’s put the game analogy aside, then,” she suggests.
“Okay. It was more of an icebreaker thing anyway.”
