Cover Spell (4 page)

“Illuminate.” I spoke the word into my dark hotel room with one hand reaching just in front of my chest. The reliable glowing orb bobbed above my palm as I scanned the wall for the light switch. Even at night, it felt stuffy. I pressed the down arrow on the thermostat until the blinking numbers wouldn’t drop any lower. I needed to cool off. I settled onto the king-size bed and pulled out my phone to call Holly.

I tapped her number. “Hey, you still up?”

I thought I heard a yawn. “Yeah, I’m awake. How’s New Orleans?”

There was only one way to share this kind of news. “Not much going on. But I did just get back from a date with Evan Carlson.”

“What? What? Are you kidding me?” My cousin was certainly awake now.

I giggled. “I’m not kidding. But it was really more of a group date. Although, I’m calling it a date.”

“I am so jealous right now. Tell me
everything
.”

“I don’t even know where to start. Um, he bought me a beer and he asked me to dance. Slow dance.”

“No he didn’t.” I pictured Holly sitting on the edge of her bed in her pajamas. It was after midnight in Sullen’s Grove.

“Yes, he did. He did.” I smiled.

My call to Holly flipped back and forth between retelling every little Evan detail I could dish to her and creating strategies she thought I should employ for securing another date.

“Did you make plans to see him tomorrow night? A date?” Holly was as excited as I was.

“No. If he asks me out, then he asks me out. I’m not going to do anything to make it happen.” A quick image of me accidentally tipping in one of my mother’s love potions into the drink cart darted through my mind.

“Ivy, you’ve got to be kidding. He’s adorable. He’s amazing. You have to go out with him again. Have to!”

I laughed. “I’d love to go out with him, but right now, I have to rework this dang script. I can’t figure out why it’s not working for him and Emmy. Something isn’t quite right with the dialogue.” I glared down at the pages spread in front of me. I had propped myself up on the bed with a stack of fluffy pillows.

“Oh I know. You should fill in for Emmy during the next kissing scene. That could definitely help.”

True, I had thought about kissing those perfect lips more than once tonight, but I was trying to be serious for once. “Holly, there is actually something not flowing with the script.”

“Hmm…didn’t you say they changed a lot of the settings?” Holly was the first person who ever read
Masquerade
. She knew it almost as well as me.

“Yes, they have this elaborate set, and the scene when Luke tries to convince Josette to leave with him is on the steps of her father’s vacation house instead of inside her room. It’s too big or something. It’s not intimate enough.”

“There you go, just convince them to change the setting.” Holly laughed on the other end of the phone.

“Right, like they are going to listen to my direction. What do I know about how to shoot a movie? Plus, I think they have the plantation leased for the entire week.”

“Um, you saw it firsthand, so you know what really happened between Josette and Luke. And, you wrote the darn thing, so I think you should have the biggest say. That’s just my opinion.”

“All right, all right. We both know I can’t share the entire backstory. I need to get to work on this if I’m going to give them something in the morning. Thanks for listening.”

“Don’t thank me. Call me anytime to tell me about Evan. Make that, you
better
call me tomorrow with more Evan stories. I want to hear everything.”

“Got it. Good night, Holly.” I laid the phone down next to me and pulled out the page from today’s disastrous scene. Evan delivered his lines with sincerity, and Emmy seemed genuinely distraught during the scene. I sank into the pillow pile I had created on my hotel bed, and closed my eyes, trying to remember the night I first found Luke and Josette.

New Orleans, 1945

Carefully, I extended one hand and then the other through the slender curtain of the seam. I rubbed my arms vigorously, shaking the brief chill from my skin. I wrapped my fingers around my grandmother’s sapphire ring to reassure myself it was snug and secure on my finger.

I heard crying. Giant heaving sobs filtered through the darkness beyond the closet wall where I traveled. I turned the handle on the closet door, cracked the opening enough to survey the exit, then ducked out of the passageway and walked toward the sounds.

It was night, and except for an occasional lamp, the house was dark. I crept down the hall and stopped outside the room resonating with grief. The door was slightly ajar, and I could see inside. A young woman, maybe seventeen or eighteen years old, was crumpled on the bed, weeping and bawling. She inhaled a few deep breaths and started the crying ritual all over again. Poor thing. I wanted to ask her what happened to make her cry like that, but the
Time Spell
rules I imparted on myself didn’t allow me to talk to her or touch her. Surely, someone in the house could hear her; she wasn’t holding back. I waited for someone to come to her.

The house seemed empty, and I left the girl to peek in the rooms lining the hall for any other occupants. When I realized no one was at home or at least not on this floor, I slid back into the weeping girl’s room while she stopped to blow her nose into a linen handkerchief.

She was wearing ivory satin gloves that covered her arms all the way to her elbows. Her green dress was crumpled around her. Thin, beaded, ivory spaghetti straps ran across her shoulders and seamlessly blended in with the beading on the bodice of her gown. An intricately sequined and feathered mask was resting on the floor near her high heel shoes. I wanted to take a picture.

“Why, Papa? Why?” Her melodic French accent filled the room. I tilted my ear toward the hall to listen for approaching footsteps, but it was quiet.

The young woman gathered the heavy skirts from her dress, dabbed at her eyes, and stared out the dormer window. Faded paint clung to the walls. The bed was at the end of the room. Open dresser drawers revealed a cascade of slips, stockings, and camisoles chaotically hanging over the edges. A few Edith Piaf albums had been flung on the floor, and shoes were scattered everywhere. This was a messy girl. She was in dire need of my
Remedy
and
Erase Spells
to restore order to her boutique-like room.

“Josette! Josette!” The sounds of a male voice carried through the open window, followed by rocks hitting the glass. I inched closer to the young girl and the onslaught of pebbles bouncing one by one onto the bedroom floor.

She rushed to the windowsill and immediately drew back in surprise. A hand, followed by another hand and arm, reached through the frame and pulled a handsome man into the room. He threw his leg over the side of the wall and hit the floor with a heavy thud.

“Luke, Luke. What are you doing here? How did you climb up here?” She leaned over the side of the window to survey his means of entry. “You can’t be here. You can’t. You must be quiet.” She pressed her finger to her full, pouty lips. Throwing caution out the window, she tackled him to the floor with her arms wrapped around the man’s neck, smothering him with her embrace.

He stroked Josette’s long tresses lovingly and let her cry in his arms. With every sob, he pulled her in tighter to his thin frame. He looked like a boy teetering on the edge of manhood.

“Josette, hush, hush. Don’t cover your beautiful face in tears. You know I’m leaving. But I’m not leaving without you. I came to get you.” He smiled at the tear-strewn beauty.

Josette’s sobbing continued in his shoulder for a few seconds while he rocked her. “Luke, Papa will never let us be together. Just go. I can’t come with you. I don’t know how he found out about us, but now that he knows, he’ll never let me see you.”

He cupped her face in his hands and whispered to her, “I’m not leaving without you. I don’t care what your father says. We knew we couldn’t keep this secret forever, eventually someone would see us together. At least now we don’t have to hide anymore. We can be together. All these months of hiding are over. This is our chance.”

I almost sighed aloud. The love, the pain and anguish, and the fear were palpable. I watched the couple cling to each other with every fiber of their young beings. The warm wisps of their love emanating from their embrace filled every corner of the room.

“This is no choice for me to make. I leave with you, and we still have to hide. I stay with Papa, and he sends me back to France. He will never forgive me for lying to him.” She buried her face again in the handkerchief.

“Don’t you see? It is a choice. You can choose me. You can choose us. At least if you come with me, you’ll be free from him and we can be together.” Luke sat on his heels and tried to reason with her. “Remember the day we met?”

Josette nodded and wiped away the steady stream of tears.

“When I saw you standing in the crowd that day in May, I knew my life was complete. All the fellas had to talk me into riding that dumb parade float for Maritime Day, but once I saw you, I knew why I was supposed to be there. We are meant to be, Josette. I hopped off that float and walked right up to you, because I knew you were the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. I couldn’t let you out of my sight.”

The brunette giggled. “I know. I couldn’t believe you quit the parade just to talk to me. How did you even see me in that crowd? There were hundreds of people there cheering and yelling. It was so loud and crowded.”

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you. Even with all of those people lining the street, I found you. I saw only you.”

Josette blushed but lifted her gaze to Luke’s light brown eyes. “I wasn’t even supposed to be there, you know? I snuck out of the house against Papa’s wishes. He didn’t want me to see the parade or be anywhere near sailors. He always said they were no good for me.” The edges of her crimson lips formed a smile. “But he’s wrong. You. You’re good for me, my love.”

“I’m glad you didn’t listen to him. We never would have met. The day of the parade was the best day of my life. Until now.” He paused with a deep breath. “I know I’m going to Japan, but the efforts there won’t last forever. We’ll find a house, you can get everything ready for us, and I’ll come home to you soon.” He squeezed her tightly. “Josette, we can do this together; we can leave right now and start our life together. Please.” He wiped away a rolling tear on her cheek and kissed her on the mouth as she leaned into him.

“But Papa, he won’t give up. He will find us. He will come looking for me. How can I do that to you, Luke? Always running? We’ll never have peace.”

It seemed as if Luke was enchanted by her innocence and stubbornness. “I don’t care how powerful he is, even if he is the French consul. We love each other, Josette. And there’s nothing he can do about that, especially when you become my wife.”

“Wife?” The tears subsided from her pale blue eyes, and her lips formed a tiny, impish smile. How could he not be charmed by her? She was alluring, adorable, and headstrong all wrapped up in one petite bundle of temptation. “Yes, yes, I’ll go with you. I love you, Luke. I want to be with you and be your wife.”

Relief and happiness flooded the handsome man’s face. He urgently hugged and kissed her again. I had never seen a proposal unfold in person, but this one would be hard to beat. It was like something from a Cary Grant movie.