Page 2 of Flirty Fall Fling

I laugh just as the floor squeaks above us.

Josie and Winter look scared as Charlie, Flora’s fourteen-pound orange cat, takes his time coming down the stairs. He stops on the third step from the bottom and glares at me like I’m late. He gives me his best where the hell have you been look.

“I’m sorry it took me so long, Sir Charles,” I say, holding out my arms, clicking my tongue as I move toward him. “Come here, baby.”

He rushes up the stairs like I insulted him. I drop my hands by my sides.

Josie’s mouth hangs open. “Did he just throw a kitty fit?”

“Yes, he just turned five and has a very bad cattitude. Sir Charles has always treated me like I need to pay him rent anytime I show up.”

“Along with the spirits,” Josie mutters.

“Would you quickly like the tour?” I ask.

They both nod.

I take them into the front room because it’s the heart of the place. The afternoon light makes it seem romantic. I’ve read until I fell asleep by the fireplace on several occasions. The card reading table sits in front of the bay window with sheer curtains that filter the light, making it softer than usual. Two mismatched wooden chairs face each other. In the corner is a burgundy wingback chair, whose seat has conformed from a lifetime of use. There’s a brass banker’s lamp with a green glass shade and a deck of Flora’s favorite cards on the table where she left them. The cards are soft from years of shuffling.

This is where she did her daily personal readings, with the cards spread out in front of her. She always took her time, like the next minute wasn’t guaranteed.

Winter runs her hand along the back of the chair. “Can you read tarot cards?”

“Of course. But I specialize in reading coffee cups, casting spells and wards, and removing curses.”

Winter doesn’t blink. “Love spells?”

“Oh, yes. Love spells are one of my specialties. One hundred percent track record. How do you think your sister and Jules found partners?” I pretend to brush my shoulder off. Julie is my other best friend. I used to work at her family’s coffee shop just over the mountain and only left to take over my aunt’s business.

Winter holds my gaze for a beat too long. She’s a skeptic who doesn’t let anything get past her, thanks to her background in psychiatry.

“Have you ever cast one on yourself?” Winter asks.

“Once.”

“Did it work?”

“It worked. They always work. The spell found me a lover. It just couldn’t make him worth keeping.”

Winter doesn’t push, which I appreciate.

“What happened?” Josie asks. Her eyes scan over the jars stacked on a shelf that goes from floor to ceiling. She gulps.

“He wanted a trad wife. He wanted me to stay pregnant for five years straight since I was so old. Granted, I was twenty-six then.”

“Ew.” Winter makes a face.

“He was really good in bed,” I tell them. “I considered doing whatever made him happy and almost lost myself. The witch stuff … he hated. He wanted Glinda, not Elphaba.”

“That’s frightening,” Josie says and reaches for a jar. “Are these … intestines?” She immediately starts dry-heaving.

“They’re ingredients. Nothing more,” I say, taking the glass and placing it back where she got it.

I guide them through the rest of the downstairs, giving them the history of the house that I can remember. The dining room has a long table, where Flora used to throw her monthly energy cleansing parties. Past it is the huge kitchen, where copper pots hang over the island. A single teacup sits on the drying rack by the sink, like she stepped out for the afternoon.

We continue down the wide hallway, and I crack open the door to the huge study that spans half of the downstairs. The room smells of old paper and candle wax. Reading glasses sit folded on the large, dark oak desk, along with tall candles. Next to them is a neat stack of papers, books, and a spell she must’ve been working on. I pull the door shut, not ready to go inside.

“This is the study. Shall we go upstairs and choose rooms?”