Page 4 of Witchy Chick

“I appreciate the sentiment, as long as I don’t have to pay for it.”

She chuckled then walked me toward the front desk. “We’ll have the papers filed by the end of tomorrow.”

“Thank you.”

She nodded, watching me with concern as I turned and walked out of her office. I’d said I had somewhere to go. Gloria was the closest thing I had to a family. And she always had everything you needed to get black-out drunk. It was stupid to get drunk just because your life was crumbling to ashes, but it was even more stupid to believe in love and think I could control something if I tried hard enough. Stupid was my theme song.

two

. . .

“I don’t drink,” Gloria said, staring at me while I stared back. “I’m pregnant.” She turned sideways so I could see her enormous baby bump. Her floofy red curls were also huge, so her silhouette certainly made an impression.

“Oh. Good. That’s so great.” But now what?

“Do you want to stay for dinner? My husband’s bringing a roast chicken and salad with some of those dinner rolls. You know the ones.”

I blinked at her. “Maybe I could drink in your cellar? I don’t want to bother you during your romantic dinner.”

She straightened her bony shoulders and wrinkled her nose at me. “I don’t have any alcohol in the house. Otherwise, I might drink it.”

I nodded. “That makes sense. Then what do I do?”

“Go drinking in a bar. That’s what they’re there for.”

I nodded again, but I was feeling like the world was reeling around me. “That makes sense. But I’ve never gone to a bar.”

“You could go home instead.”

Home. I was selling the home I’d lived in for the past fifteen years. What was I thinking? Maybe it wasn’t a big deal that Clark had another person in his life. Maybe I could turn my head and…

“Bar. I’ll go to a bar. It’s good to have new experiences.”

She gave me a puzzled look. “When have you thought that? You always play it safe, straightlaced, always according to Hoyle. New experiences? What’s wrong? Are you sick? And you haven’t told me that fortune-telling isn’t real once since you got here.”

“I’m great! I’m just…” I swallowed hard, and my smile ran away with the spoon. “I’m getting a divorce.”

Her purple eyes popped huge while she gaped at me. “No! Why would you do that?”

“Because he cheated.”

“No! I don’t believe it. He’s crazy about you and the kids. He was more obsessed with having the pretty little storybook life with you than Lucy was.”

I blinked at her, and things got blurry for a second. I wasn’t sure if it was better to hear her say she didn’t understand why he’d cheat or worse to not think I was the only idiot.

I sniffed. “Anyway, I’m going to a bar. Can you recommend one?”

“Oh. The Dead Goose is pretty good.”

“It sounds terrible.”

“But they have these bacon fries with this spicy chili sauce that’s absolutely wonderful with a nice bourbon. Also rye sandwiches.”

“You make it sound like you go to bars to eat instead of drink.”

“Of course. If I want to drink, I stay home. I’m an alcoholic, you know, not a social drinker.” She sighed heavily before giving me a big hug. She smelled like cheap perfume and myrrh incense. “It’s going to be okay. I’m sure you’ll figure things out with your husband eventually.”

I squeezed her back for a second before I pulled away with a smile that probably looked like crap then turned around, leaving the foyer that was lined with tennis rackets and skis, stepping outside into the early evening. I could go to a bar and get a sandwich. I didn’t need to drink. It was stupid. Like being married to someone who’d had an affair for at least a year before you noticed.