Page 29 of Enchanted to Meet You

My ruse didn’t work, however. Rosalie’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “I didn’t know they were taking mentors for that already.”

“Oh, yes,” I’d said, and reached into the plastic jack-o’-lantern they had sitting on the table, with free fun-sized candy bars for the kids. I wasn’t a kid, but I was a chocoholic, and even after all the brownies I’d consumed, I always had room for more. Plus the sky outside was getting darker. Surely this was simply a fluke, and not any of Rosalie’s doing. But I grabbed nervously for the chocolate anyway. “It’s a great program. Sal recommended it. You remember Sal, don’t you, Dina’s brother?”

“Obviously I remember Sal.” Rosalie stared at me expressionlessly. “We had to go through him to set up this table.”

“Ha, ha, right.” I looked down at the candy bar I’d pulled from the jack-o’-lantern and realized, sadly, that it was a Milky Way. “Okay, well, great seeing you both. I better go before—”

That’s when it happened. Billy’s fingers had closed over my hand—the one holding the Milky Way—preventing me from leaving, and causing Rosalie’s cheeks to flush angrily.

“Here you go,” he’d said.

And, like a magic trick—though there was nothing preternatural about it—Billy slid the miniature Milky Way out of my hand, and dropped a miniature Snickers bar into it. Instead of looking everywhere except at me, his eyes were suddenly gazing hard into mine, seeming to pleadRemember?

Though he had to have known perfectly well that, after all these years, he was never going to get what he thought he wanted from me, despite remembering my favorite chocolate bar.

That’s when the first crash of thunder rattled the school. Billy instantly released me . . . and I’d careened for the exit, knowing I was doomed.

And Rosalie had let me have it, all right.

Now, safe in my own living room, I wondered if I should mention any of what had happened back in the cafeteria to Derrick. But he’d only asked whether Rosalie knew about Esther. Surely there was no reason I needed to embarrass myself any further by telling him the mortifying truth about Billy.

Except...

Except what if what had happened after—the blizzard, and all those poor people who nearly froze to death on the interstate—was what was causing the rift?

I didn’t want to think about that.

“Anyway,” I said, swinging my foot off the coffee table. I was feeling better—but also like it might be a good idea to put some distance between myself and Derrick Winters. “Can I get you that coffee? Or lunch? I don’t know about you, but ever since I found out about the rift, I’ve been starving all the time. I have some leftovers from Mama Giovanni’s—my friend’s family owns it. His mother makes a great Sunday night gravy.” When he only looked confused, I prodded, “You know, gravy—spaghetti sauce with meatballs and sausage? It’ll just take me a few minutes to warm it up. It’s always better the next day for some reason. I guess the flavors have more of a chance to meld.”

When he continued to hesitate, I said, a little impatiently, “Of course I could just give you my report on the Bringer of Light over coffee and cold cheese Danish from Wake Up West Harbor. Do you have more in your car?”

He shook his head, smiling a bit. “No. Sorry, your offer is very generous. I was just thrown by the gravy reference. Where I come from, gravy only comes on mashed potatoes.”

“Oh.” I eyed him as he reached out to tickle Pye under the chin—and the catlethim. Not only let him, but rolled onto his back and showed him his belly, purring. “Yeah, I could see that.”

This was nuts. As a shop cat, Pye tended to be friendly with strangers, but notthatfriendly. It had taken months after I’d adopted Pye from the shelter for him to trust me enough to show me his belly. Did Derrick’s fingers have the same magical effect on cats that they did on women?

But Derrick didn’t even seem to notice my cat’s reaction to his touch. Instead, he climbed to his feet, pulled off his leather jacket, and walked across the room to hang it on the fish-tail coat hooks by my front door, straightening the sleeves so it hung evenly with the umbrellas and rain jackets also hanging there.

So he liked cats, and was a little perfectionistic.

This was bad. I liked men who were kind to cats and also kept things tidy.

It didn’t hurt that his butt looked so nice in his black jeans, too.

“...but you really don’t have to cook for me,” I realized he was saying when I was able to drag my attention away from his jeans.

“I’ve never been to Montana,” I said, walking briskly into my kitchen. Eyes forward. “But around here, gravy is considered spaghetti sauce, and heating up leftovers isn’t considered cooking.”

I pulled open the door to the refrigerator as both man and cat sat and watched me, the man on a stool at the pass-through between my dining room and kitchen, and the cat on the floor beside him, since Pye was apparently now Derrick’s friend for life. “Do you really want coffee, or have you had enough?”

“Is there such a thing as enough?”

“Point taken.” I switched on the machine and slipped a pale blue mug beneath the spigot. It was amazing how easy it was forme to move now that he’d done that thing, whatever it was, to my knee. Was he single? And interested in female business witches? Because if we survived the coming apocalypse, he was definitely someone who’d be useful to have around, considering how often I wore out my joints on tailoring projects (and found myself the target of supernatural attacks by my former high school nemesis). “So, my verdict as the Chosen One is, Esther is the Bringer of Light.”

He raised his eyebrows. “What makes you think that?”

“Hmmm, let me see.” I began spooning food I’d pulled from the fridge into microwaveable bowls. “She moved an entire cafeteria table in front of me using only her mind.”