Page 119 of The Blue Moon Café & 24-Hour Occult Emporium

A few hours later, long past midnight, something small and angry scratched at her bedroom door. Talula slumped to her feet, eyes and throat sore from crying. She grabbed the knob and pulled.

Simon stood there, his fur at its poofiest, looking offended at her very existence.

“You left me,” Simon sputtered, irate. “Like some dog.”

(Talula couldn’t even laugh at that.)

“I’m sorry,” she said hoarsely.

Simon looked Talula up and down. His fury cooled. “You look…less than ideal.”

Talula swallowed down a sob. “I feel less than ideal.”

“But we won! Samhain lives on to provide resources for the magical community once again.”

“I almost kissed Dahlia tonight.” Talula sat down hard on the bed.

Simon gawped. He jumped onto the bed, darting up the duvet until he lay splayed out next to Talula. “What happened? Don’t leave anything out.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Talula let her head fall into her hands. “The Volta always has to come first, and Dahlia deserves so much better than that. Better than a relationship full of lies. With stupid, useless, unmagical me.”

Simon let that sink in. Talula wiped her eyes, but they kept leaking.

Finally, Simon spoke, “I don’t know if there’s a perfect solution here, Talula. I don’t know if cutting Dahlia out is the right call or the wrong one. But what I do know, what I believe with every ounce of my magical being, is that no one can do better than you. Not counting Emilio, of course; he’s the most perfect thing on this earth since good-looking shirtless shepherds.”

Talula let out a weak laugh. She lay her hand on Simon’s head and ruffled his ears gratefully.

“It’s late. You have a big day of cake-baking ahead of you.” Simon batted at her elbow with a paw. “You should get some sleep.”

Talula nodded, tucking herself under her sheets while Simon curled up into a golden-brown ball at the edge of her bed. Talula pulled the covers over her eyes. And if Simon heard a few tear-soaked hiccups, he didn’t say a word.

29

The next morning, two days before Samhain, Talula headed to the café alone. She told Simon she needed some space to get her head in order.

“What? Why?”

“My mom’s on the run from magical trophy hunters, we just got through the town hall, we have a million things to do for Samhain, and I self-destructed in front of the girl I’m totally crazy about.”

Simon couldn’t say much to that. He did, however, give her a wistful smile. “Let me handle some of the Samhain minutiae. And I think you should bring your cake paraphernalia with you.”

Talula shook her head. “Simon, I told you there’s no oven—”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” Simon raised his doggy eyebrows. “Let’s just say your sorcery instructor had some thoughts, and our craftsman elf friends had some time.”

Talula looked at her mentor dubiously, but couldn’t say no to his wide, pleading eyes. She packed up and set off for the Blue Moon. Still under a gray cloud of worry and regrets, Talula opened the front door of the café, expectations low. She gasped.

The place looked like something right out of her chic coffee shop decor mood boards. LED lights glistened from new display shelves and cases. Sleek speakers replaced the outdated stereo system. A coat of dreamy blue paint brightened the walls. Buzzing with excitement, Talula opened the Employees Only door to find a brand-new stove with burners and a flat-top grill. Two spacious ovens were stacked to the left of the stove. Stainless steel prep tables held shelves full of every cooking utensil she’d ever seen in her favorite foodie social media feeds. It was the café kitchen she’d always wanted it to be. She owed the craftsman elves a dairy-themed gift basket and an ecstatic thank-you note.

But they weren’t the only ones.

Talula grabbed her order pad, tore out a page, and scrawled, It’s perfect, thank you. Then, she concentrated on her latest skill, creating a mini magical doorway in midair. She peeked through the portal and spotted Simon dozing on the living room couch. She dropped her note through the blue window—it landed on top of his head. As the portal disappeared, Talula could hear Simon’s pleased chuckle reverberating through her magic.

Talula looked around again at all the shiny new additions to her well-loved café. Instinctually, she thought, I can’t wait for Dahlia to see it.

The thought was a brass-knuckle punch to Talula’s gut. Last night’s tears threatened to return. But she shook her head. It was time to put the kitchen to good use.

Talula pulled on her apron.