Page 14 of Love Spells: And Other Non-Refundable Magic

Veronica and Dani exchange another look.

“What?”

“Merry,” Veronica says carefully, “the CEO of our company called me Vanessa at the fall planning meeting last week.”

“In his defense,” I say, although I have no idea what I’m still defending, “you were sitting next to Vanessa.”

“Vanessa is sixty-two.”

“Is she?” Dani interrupts, still sipping from that iced coffee. “She doesn’t look a day over forty-five. I’m going to ask her what her skincare routine is.”

I shrug. The Whisp notification remains face down beside my keyboard. I can feel the weight of it on my desk, which is a weird thing to think because cell phones should not be capable of making themselves feel heavier just because there’s a message waiting for me.

“What was that?” Dani follows my gaze and starts reaching out with her free hand.

“What was what?”

“Why is your phone buzzing?”

“Phones sometimes do that, Dani.”

Veronica reaches for it, but luckily I’m faster and grab it first.

“Why are you being weird?”

“I am always weird,” I reply, clutching my phone against my chest. “You need to be more specific.”

“Oh my god,” Dani says, leaning back against the chair. The force of the movement makes her roll back just a little, and she squeaks, getting back to where she was a few seconds later. “The witch replied.”

“No, it’s a notification.”

“Yes, from the witch,” Veronica says.

“The Third Fairy is technically an online retailer.”

Veronica holds out her hand. “Give me the phone.”

“No.”

“Merry.” Dani reaches across the desk. I twist away, nearly rolling my chair into the filing cabinet behind me.

“Stop it.”

I unlock the phone. Veronica makes a small sound that should not come from an adult woman in an office on a Friday afternoon.

“Nobody speaks.”

They both immediately move closer to me.

I open Whisp, and the message fills the screen. For one irrational second, I expect smoke to rise from the phone or for the office lights to flicker. Nothing happens, of course. My spreadsheet remains open, Hell is still on her call. A man from accounting walks past carrying a banana.

Normal. Absolutely and entirely normal.

“I don’t think you’re cursed,” it says after a few introductory and very normal customer service words about trusting their shop. It should be comforting, but instead it makes me think that she should not be ruling things out this quickly. She hardly knows me.

“And while I can’t promise what this ritual will or won’t bring into your life,” the message continues, “I do think there’s value in creating space to notice what you’ve been telling yourself about love.”

Veronica gasps, and I don’t know exactly which part she’s reacting to. Dani looks enthralled, nodding as her eyes scan the screen and move down the message.