Unlike other monsters, he and Sven were tied to Harmony Glen. They could travel for short distances, but if they were gone too long, they started to rot. Which is what happened to him when the truck broke down in Tallowfield, and Margaid his best friend’s girlfriend, gave him a lift back home.
Maybe I’m judging Mercedes too harshly.
Sven seemed to have forgiven and forgotten the past. Maybe he could too?
“Okay, but she better stay out of the kitchen,” Magnus remarked, finishing the gathering of all the tablecloths. “It’s getting late, want to deal with the tables tomorrow?”
Sven nodded. “Yeah, we can. I should get some sleep because we have a lot to do with our grand opening looming.”
“When does the witch start?” Magnus asked through gritted teeth.
“In three days, and I have to prep and train her.”
Magnus hefted the bag of dirty linens over his shoulder and dragged it into the basement of their dead-and-breakfast. They’d turned the old embalming room into their laundry room.
Sven may be good with people but, besides cooking, Magnus had a knack for fixing appliances and had salvaged two industrial washers and dryers that were older and broken down. He bought them from Mona who ran The Clothes Spin laundromat. She’d insisted on it. When Mona made up her mind about something, most people listened.
With help from Finn to secure parts, Magnus had them fixed, and now they had big enough machines to handle the loads of linen this place would generate. Magnus found it unusually calming in the basement of the former funeral home. It sort of reminded him of their old cave. He could putter around down here.
That’s why when they’d chosen sections of the massive Victorian home to be their apartments, Magnus chose the basement, much to Sven’s horror. Sven chose the attic and the large watch tower at the top. They’d spent enough centuries in close quarters, it was nice to have their own autonomy.
Once the wash was on, Magnus floated down the hall to his apartment and sat in his favorite recliner. Closing his eyes, all he could think about was her.
If his heart still beat, it would be racing. He was so excited for this date. He and Mercedes had so much in common. He glanced down at his phone, to the messages.
Mer: Our initials are like the candy.
Mag: Hard shelled?
Mer: Delicious. LOL
Mag: That’s so cheesy.
Mer: Can’t help it. I guess it’s like our taste in movies. Everyone in my family hates my love of screwball comedies.
Mag: Your cheese is adorable. My brother hates them too. Hates that I quote a certain hockey-playing golfer. All. The. Time.
Mer: That’s the best movie. He’s too uptight.
Mag: What movie do you over-quote?
Mer: Too many. I shout “squirrel” a lot in tense situations, especially around Christmas. At Halloween, I’m a bit Abby Normal.
Mag: LOL. Would you like to meet? Maybe we can spend an evening quoting our favorite movies?
Mer: YES! When and where?
As he looked up to see her enter the restaurant, the smile plastered on his face slowly slipped away when he recognized that face. All he could think of was the moment he was cursed.
Not so much for him, but for Sven, and he wondered if this was some kind of cruel trick.
He cursed under his breath. He hated thinking of their first date over and over again. Especially since he’d been so stoked, thinking he’d found the one. It wasn’t just that she reminded him so much of that witch. It was the fact that he found her so attractive. He’d connected with her before they met and he missed their text conversations.
He missed her.
It was going to be hard to share a workplace with Mercedes, but Sven was right. His domain was the kitchen, and she’d be cleaning the bedrooms. They really didn’t have to interact much at all.
And that’s the way he planned to keep it.
