A Taste of Magic Page 12

  Resting her forehead on my back, she said, “Forever.”

  “Is this because of Spencer? Are you lashing out because you’re hurt?” That had to be it. This stuff she was saying caused way too much pain, so it couldn’t be true.

  “No. Yes. I don’t know. It’s how I’ve felt for a while, but maybe this thing with Spencer brought it to the surface.”

  “There is a man for you. Maybe it’s Spencer, maybe it isn’t. You’ll find him, or he’ll find you. You’re too perfect for that not to happen.” If Cupid’s arrow didn’t strike Maddie, I certainly didn’t have much hope.

  She snorted. “Perfect? I am so far from perfect it isn’t even funny. I’m neurotic about my entire body. And now I’ve turned into a crazy person.”

  My tears let loose, but they mixed with laughter. “We’re both a mess, aren’t we?”

  “Aww, Liz. Understand I’m not saying Marc isn’t an ass. He is, he hurt you. That’s enough to put him in the donkey department for eternity as far as I’m concerned. But please, don’t trash what you once had together. Learn from it, sure. Pretend all those years were nothing but a mistake? No, don’t do that. Because doing that will not help you.”

  “I don’t know how to let go. And he isn’t making it any easier.” I told her about the letter from Marc and how he wanted to take a more active role in A Taste of Magic.

  “Oh, sweetie, that bites. Do you think talking to him will help?”

  “I don’t know. I have to try. But seeing him at the bakery will make everything worse. I don’t think I’ll ever comprehend what went wrong.” I shuddered.

  “You might not. But you need to put it behind you. I miss the Liz you used to be,” Maddie admitted softly.

  Yeah, I missed her, too. “I have a date on Saturday,” I confessed, more to change the subject than anything else. I didn’t want to talk about Marc. Not now. Maybe not ever.

  Standing, Maddie squealed. “The trainer guy from the mall?”

  I pulled myself to my feet. “Yes. Kevin.”

  “That’s so cool! Are you excited?”

  A bud of warmth unfurled in my chest, melting the cold freeze. “I think I am.”

  “It’ll be wonderful! This is exactly what you need.” Taking her seat in the living room again, Maddie said, “Have some ice cream.” Then, she wrinkled her nose at the container. “Yuck. This is gross. I wonder if I can refreeze it.”

  I followed her to the kitchen. Thank God we were good again. I hated fighting with Maddie. “Did you have a chance to investigate Troy?”

  “Yeah, he’s a jerk.”

  “I know he’s a jerk. Did you find out anything else?”

  “A little. I made some notes for you. He has his own web-site. It’s filled with pictures of him, but other than that, there’s not much there. It’s like he’s trolling for women or something.” She put the ice cream away. “Is there anything in particular you wanted to know?”

  “How to get a hold of him, for starters.”

  “Oh, that’s easy. I have his address and his place of employment. He has both listed on his site. Not the smartest guy in the world, obviously.”

  My jaw dropped. “Where does he work?”

  “The Brookhaven Sports Club. Isn’t that where you said Alice met him?”

  “Yep. He told her he lost his job; that’s why he needed so much money.” I shouldn’t have been surprised. I’d already known this guy was trash.

  “The woman who answered the phone said something strange when I asked about him. She asked if I was a member, and if I wanted to file a complaint. It seems he makes a habit of hitting on women and doesn’t know when to take no for an answer.”

  My heart went out to my sister. She was a smart woman, but somehow she’d fallen for a loser. “Why is he still employed there?”

  “No clue.”

  Crap. It looked like I might have to join yet another gym. I almost groaned at the thought. But then I realized I already had everything I needed. “Thank you for looking into this. I appreciate it.”

  “If you need any other help, let me know.” She hesitated for a second. “Do you think I should try calling Spencer again?”

  “Absolutely. But wait a couple of days. Give him the opportunity to call you back first.” And that would, hopefully, give me the chance to fix Maddie’s spell. Because this time, I really needed to get it right.

  I also needed a copy of How to Cast the Perfect Gypsy Spell. Badly.

  Chapter Nine

  I slid my car into the parking lot at the grocery store and heaved a sigh of relief that I’d made it safely. I stepped out of the car, and my eyelashes froze to my eyelids instantly in the subzero temperature. Frosty white snow pummeled me as I raced toward the bright lights of Dominick’s.

  Yes, I was a crazy lady, rushing to the food store like everyone else because of a fast approaching late-winter storm. But hey, my cupboards were a little too bare for my comfort. Besides, how could I work the magic if I didn’t have the proper baking ingredients? Exactly. I mean, what a perfect way to use a snow day. So here I was, on one of the worst days of the year, navigating the ice and snow for a box of baking chocolate and some flour. I should probably pick up some normal food, too, otherwise I wouldn’t have anything to eat but brownies and cookies. On second thought, that didn’t sound so bad.The store was packed. People swarmed everywhere, and even though I was one of them, I still didn’t get it. I actually needed food, but I knew there were plenty of people programmed to run to the store at the first sign of a snowflake. And all of them had chosen my store.

  I wanted to hurry, but the crowd made it difficult. I was kind of hoping to see Nate later. A certain image refused to leave my mind—dinner, a movie, coffee, curling up together on the couch. Besides, I missed him. And based on the card I’d found taped to my door this morning—from Nate—he missed me, too. Plus, now I knew he hadn’t been avoiding me. He’d just been stuck on the late shift. So yeah, I really hoped he’d be around that evening.

  I pushed my cart fast, stopping to toss things in here and there. I didn’t pay attention to the other shoppers. For one, making eye contact encouraged conversation, which I didn’t want to do. For two, Chicago was so huge it wasn’t likely I’d run into anyone I knew.

  When the cart looked adequately full, I made my way toward the front of the store. The lines would be horrendous, and I needed to get on the roads before they became even icier. As I turned the corner out of the frozen foods section, I rammed into another cart. “I’m sorry,” I mumbled, backing up so I could swerve around and continue on my way.

  “Elizabeth?”

  My heart stopped. I clenched the cart handle so tightly my knuckles turned white. Life so wasn’t fair. Lifting my gaze, I drew in a deep breath.

  “Hi, Marc.”

  He looked good. His dark hair hung longer than I’d remembered. It curled slightly around his cheeks, softening the harsh lines of his face. Dark brown eyes, almost black, centered on me. He wore the leather coat I’d given him on our last Christmas together. That bit in hard. Too hard. Why did he have to look so damn good?

  My heart started beating again, only to crack in two all over, the pieces quickly being trampled on by grocery shoppers intent on getting by us.

  “Some storm, huh?” he asked in a conversational tone, as if I were a neighbor or an old friend from college, not the ex-wife he’d cheated on and lied to. Just some acquaintance. No one special.

  “Yep, some storm.” I didn’t have any words to say. And it didn’t matter that I’d planned this moment a thousand times in my head, because now that it was happening, I had nothing.

  “I’m surprised you’re out in this,” he said.

  “I had to get some stuff. They’re saying this storm could last a couple of days.”

  “That’s why I’m here. Tiffany, well . . .” He broke off, as if he realized I wouldn’t want to hear about Tiffany. I never said he wasn’t smart.

  “Why are you at this store? Your condo isn’t
anywhere close to here.”

  “We’re renting it out. We bought a place not far from here just before the wedding. As it turns out, we’re going to be needing the extra room.” His gaze flitted away from mine. Could he possibly be uncomfortable? No, not likely. Not the amazing Marc Stevens.

  “I heard about Tiffany’s condition.” Damn if I’d congratulate him. Sour grapes? Yep, a whole vat of them.

  “You know we’re having a baby?” When I didn’t respond, he said, “News gets around fast.”

  Me and my big mouth. Now he probably thought I’d purposely searched for gossip about him and his lady love. Awesome.

  “I was just thinking of you the other day,” he said.

  “I’m sure you were. After all, insinuating yourself into my business probably took a bit of thought, didn’t it?” I snapped. Maybe it was good I’d run into him. If nothing else, it saved me a phone call.

  His eyes narrowed. “That’s business. A Taste of Magic isn’t doing as well as it should be, and I do have a monetary interest. I just want to ensure that I don’t lose any money.”

  Anger sizzled. “We haven’t missed one payment to you. I don’t want you showing up at the shop. You don’t know a thing about running a bakery.”

  “I don’t plan on learning how to bake. That’s your job. I’m more interested in tightening costs and lowering your overhead. Have you thought about moving to a less expensive locale?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m talking about. Moving to a different locale would hurt business even more. The clientele we serve expect a certain address. And none of that matters. We agreed that you’d stay out of the running of A Taste of Magic. I expect you to live up to that agreement.” Wow. I couldn’t believe I’d said everything I was thinking for once.

  “Sorry, I can’t do that. Business is business. If you don’t want me involved, then pay off the loan. It’s that simple.” Marc sighed. “I don’t want to argue with you. I’ve been thinking about you lately, and not because of that damn bakery.”

  “Why? What could you possibly have to think about now?” The walls of the store closed in on me. I pulled at my coat and tried to take in another deep breath to push the sudden nausea away. Jon and I were going to have to find a way to pay Marc off. Fast.

  “Remember those long talks we used to have before everything went crazy?”

  I quickly looked to the side, so he couldn’t see my face. All my anger receded, replaced with a pull of longing so strong I gripped the cart even tighter. I’d fallen in love with Marc during one of those long talks. Sure, we were thirteen at the time, but it could have been yesterday. Nice of him to remind me.

  “I miss them. We had some great conversations over the years, Betty.”

  And that quickly, the anger was back. Betty. Just a name, right? Hearing it was like fingernails on a chalkboard. Marc was the only person who’d ever called me Betty. I used to like it. “Don’t call me that. I hate it.”

  His jaw opened, and then he snapped it back shut as if I’d hurt him. Me, hurt him? Did he not remember the last conversation we’d had? The one where he told me I’d made his life incredibly unhappy? The one in which he very bluntly announced that he considered our entire marriage a mistake? “I should go,” I mumbled.

  “Wait.” He grabbed my wrist tightly. He wasn’t hurting me. He was just making sure I didn’t take off before he finished with me. A favorite tactic of his. One I’d actually forgotten about, which kind of surprised me.

  “I was thinking about calling you and setting up a time to get together for lunch. It would be nice to be friends again, don’t you think?”

  I twisted my wrist until he let go, and then I looked him straight in the eyes. This wasn’t easy for me, but I managed it. “Are you insane? We can’t be friends.”

  He shook his head as if he were exasperated with me. “I know the divorce was hard, but it’s been over a year since we separated. You should be over it.” He reached out to touch me. I stepped back so he couldn’t.

  “This isn’t about the divorce.” Okay, so maybe it was— partly, anyway, but it was also about my business.

  “Betty, we started out as friends. I know you miss me. Don’t try to tell me you don’t. I know you better than that. I know you better than anyone.” While his voice remained calm, the tone of it was oozy as slime.

  He may as well have punched me in the gut. Before I could answer, he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. Realizing he had a phone call, I relaxed. Saved by the bell. Thank God, because I had no clue what I was going to say to that.

  My stomach threatened to revolt, and while throwing up on Marc certainly held some appeal, I far preferred to keep my cookies where they belonged. Another wave of nausea had me digging in my purse for a mint.

  “No, I’m almost done here. Chocolate ice cream? Yeah, I can grab some,” Marc said into the phone. He turned his body slightly away and murmured, “I love you, too.” Once he’d replaced it, he faced me again. “Come on, Betty, one more chance at a friendship. What do you say?”

  The longing to agree pulled at me. How stupid could I be? If I didn’t get out of there immediately, that whole vomit thing might seriously occur. “Don’t call me Betty. Oh, and by the way, I don’t miss you at all. You don’t know me nearly as well as you think you do. Good-bye, Marc,” I said, in a giant rush of immature syllables. Hopefully, they made sense. If not, too freaking bad.

  Without looking back, I pushed the cart away and got out of the store as fast as possible. He had the decency not to follow.

  I loaded the groceries into my backseat as threads of sour emotion gnawed at me. Once in the car, I rested my forehead on the steering wheel, waiting for the car to heat up. I was proud of myself for telling Marc I didn’t miss him, and I was proud I’d walked away.

  Of course, I’d flat-out lied. While I didn’t miss being his wife any longer, I did miss his friendship. At least, the friendship we’d had when we were truly in love. When we were partners. The two, for me, were inexorably combined. And even I knew that no amount of magic could ever bring that back to me again. Though maybe, just maybe, magic might help me end this once and for all.

  What did I want more? Payback for the hellish way Marc treated me, or release from the pain merely thinking about him caused? Maybe I could get both. Maybe I couldn’t. Maybe I’d have to choose one or the other. Or maybe I was just screwed. I’d have to think long and hard about that.

  With a sigh, I put my car in gear and slowly backed out of the lot. Suddenly, the only thing I wanted for the night was a hot bath and my bed.

  Two hours later I curled up on the couch with a quilt, a book, and a hot cup of cocoa. The incident with Marc remained fresh in my mind, so much so concentrating on the book proved difficult. Hell, who was I fooling? It was impossible. I snapped the book shut. Part of me thought I’d been a coward for running off the way I had, but how else was I supposed to act? Dealing with Marc, and my feelings about him—and our divorce— hadn’t been easy to begin with; now, that difficulty reached an entirely new level.

  I needed to do something. I thought about baking something new for Maddie, so maybe I could fix what ever I’d done wrong. But doing so in the mood I was in scared me. What if I was right and the emotions I felt could alter the spell I was trying to cast? That wouldn’t be good. I could make everything even worse for her. Sharp fear turned my stomach. No, I decided, better to wait one more day and give it a go tomorrow, after a good night’s sleep.Sudden knocking on my door dragged me from my musings. A quick glance through the peephole showed Nate and Sam in the hallway. Surprised, I unlocked the chain and opened the door wide.

  Nate smiled, and my heart reconnected. It was as simple as that. He wore black jeans that had been washed so many times they were almost gray, along with a black turtleneck. I loved turtlenecks on men. I found it an incredibly sexy look. “Hey, what are you guys up to?”

  “Sam’s mom is in Ohio for a few days, so he’s stuck with me. We were supposed to go to t
he movies tonight, but the snow ruined our plans,” Nate said, hand on his nephew’s head.

  “We were gonna see a lame movie anyway. I’m too old for Disney,” Sam said. Kinda funny, as the boy was wearing blue sweatpants and a Pirates of the Caribbean T-shirt. Disney á la Johnny Depp.

  “You’re never too old for Disney. Why don’t you guys come on in? I just made some cocoa.” I motioned for them to follow. “I don’t have any coffee made, but if you want some, I can start a pot.”

  “Cocoa’s fine. Do you have marshmallows?” Nate asked.

  “Of course I do. Who drinks cocoa without marshmallows?”

  “Ah, a woman after my own heart. That sounds great. I hope you don’t mind us barging in on you. Sam was going a little stir crazy, and I thought a visit might help.” Nate ruffled Sam’s hair as he spoke. Then, his eyes met mine. “And I wanted to see you.”

  “I wanted to see you, too.” A whisper of happiness settled around me.

  “What’s ‘stir crazy,’ Uncle Nate?” Sam asked.

  Nate knelt down so he was eye level with his nephew. “You being bored out of your mind. And me, with nothing to occupy you. Which made both of us a little nuts.”

  “I told you, we should have brought my PlayStation. Then I wouldn’t be driving you nuts. You should really listen to me. I’m a pretty smart kid.”

  Nate chuckled. “Oh, I know you’re smart, kiddo. But your mother likes the fact I don’t have a PlayStation. It forces you to actually talk to me.”

  I loved watching man and boy interact. It made my heart go mushy. Nate seemed really good with kids—definitely a plus in my book.

  Sam stuck his bottom lip out. “But it’s boring!” Turning to me, he said, “Do you have a PlayStation?”

  I laughed. I couldn’t help it; he sounded so hopeful. “Sorry, Sam. No dice on the PlayStation. But maybe I can dig up a couple of board games to play. Will that interest you?”

  “What do you think, Sam? Sound like fun?” Nate winked at Sam.

  The boy scrunched up his face. “I guess so. What do you have?”