Page 16 of Clinically Bewitched
“But—”
“No buts. Stay where you are. Well, don’t stay exactly where you are—that would be weird. But stay in the general area. Walk around. Explore. Let the universe guide you. I’ll call you back as soon as Lucille gives me something concrete.”
“Freyja—”
“Trust the process, little sister,” Phoebe said, her voice suddenly gentle. “When have my readings ever been wrong?”
I wanted to say “plenty of times,” but that would be a lie. Phoebe’s readings were annoyingly accurate. She’d predicted Freyja would find her soulmate in New Orleans before Freyja had even met her husband, Duncan. She’d predicted the birth ofher son before her surrogate and friend Sarah had even taken the test. She’d even predicted that I’d end up staying at the Bourbon Bar, though she’d been vague about the details.
“Fine,” I sighed. “But if this turns out to be nothing.”
“It won’t be nothing,” Freyja said. “I promise. Now go. Explore. We’ll call you soon.”
They hung up before I could argue further.
I stood there, phone in hand, staring at the screen.
“The grumpy suit guy?” I asked the universe. “Really? That’s my soulmate?”
A breeze kicked up, warm and dry, carrying the scent of sunscreen and possibility.
“I mean, I guess he was handsome,” I admitted. “In a very... structured way. Like someone had designed him using a ruler and a protractor.”
I started walking again, this time paying slightly more attention to where I was going. But only slightly. Because how was I supposed to focus on pedestrian traffic when there was so much to see?
The Bellagio fountains were dancing in the distance.
The Eiffel Tower... well, a half-sized replica of the Eiffel Tower that rose into the sky.
Everything was bigger, brighter, louder than it had any right to be.
“Okay, universe,” I said, dodging around a family taking a group photo. “I’m here. I’m open. I’m receptive. If that guy in the suit is really my soulmate, you’re going to have to give me a sign. A real sign. Not just my sisters insisting that—”
I walked past a wedding chapel.
The sign out front read: “DESTINY AWAITS.”
I stopped. Stared at the sign. Looked up at the sky.
“Really?” I asked. “That’s your sign? A wedding chapel called Destiny?”
The universe, in its infinite wisdom, chose that moment to have someone exit the chapel, a couple in full wedding attire, laughing and kissing and looking absolutely radiant.
“Okay,” I said. “Point taken.”
I pulled out my phone and took a picture of the chapel, then sent it to my sisters with the caption:The universe has a sense of humor.
Phoebe responded immediately:The universe has a PLAN!
Freyja’s response came a second later:Lucille is meditating. Will update soon. In the meantime, EXPLORE!
I pocketed my phone and looked around, really looked, at the chaos and magic of Las Vegas.
Somewhere in this city was a grumpy man in a suit who apparently didn’t believe in watching where he was going, or accepting apologies, or basic human kindness.
And according to my sisters, and the universe, and Lucille, and Phoebe’s cards, he was my soulmate.
“Well,” I said to no one in particular, “this should be interesting.”
