Like a Charm

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

S
weet, Texas, is just like any other small town, except that it's a magical place. A coven of witches protects it, and generally everyone gets along. It's also quaint; beautiful, in fact. With its gothic architecture it could be a small village in Eastern Europe.

I'm Kira Smythe, and I never felt like I fit in there.

Other kids at school could cast spells or turn themselves green. Of course none of the magic is overt. Most outsiders seldom take notice of the odd occurrences around them—like a small child being whipped out of the way by a gust of air before an oncoming car could cause harm.

Except for an imaginary friend or two when I was five, there was nothing remotely magical about me. In a place where everyone is extraordinary, I've always been perfectly ordinary.

I left my hometown at the tender age of seventeen for college and only came home when I had to see my parents on holidays. My goal was to climb the corporate ladder and go after dreams that had nothing to do with magic.

I never wanted to live in Sweet again. It was my past, and I had new worlds to conquer.

Plans change and sometimes an ordinary person is called upon to do the extraordinary. I've learned something important in the last month, a lesson I'll remember forever.

Only idiots say
never
.

W
hen Melinda Jackson leapt from the roof of the Zeb Corp. building in Atlanta and landed fifty stories below, my life changed forever.

I'm the reason she jumped.

I'm Kira Smythe, a contract attorney with Zeb Corp., one of the largest companies in the world. I've spent most of my life trying to do the right thing, to follow the good path and to stay away from trouble.

That didn't keep trouble from finding me.

A week after Melinda jumped, I woke up in a hospital room in Atlanta. Bright lights shone overhead and I squeezed my eyes against the intrusion.

A disturbing dream, one where it was me on that ledge, had brought me out of a long sleep. The last thing I remembered before the dream was working on the Bedford-Meade merger contract in my office. Chaotic snapshots of me helping Melinda with her sexual harassment case against a nasty fellow at Zeb Corp. flashed through my head. I was the prosecution's best witness, and everything had seemed to be going our way. That last day in court played out in my mind. The judge had an odd smirk on his face as he relayed the verdict. I should have known.

We hadn't counted on the power of old Atlanta wealth, which the defendant had on his side. We lost the case. An amazing woman, Melinda was strong and calm throughout.

By the end of the day she was on the edge of the building, and that's when everything went dark in my brain.

I knew she was dead, but I didn't recall what she had said or how I made it off the roof that day. I only knew I'd been there.

I closed my eyes again, and when I opened them my favorite paralegal and best friend, Justin, hovered over me wearing his crazy baseball jersey that reads, “Pink Sheep of the Family.” I wanted to smile, but didn't have the energy.

There was also a woman sitting on my bed. My eyes were still bleary. “Mom?” I wondered if I might be dreaming. She lived more than a thousand miles away in Sweet, Texas, and I hadn't seen her in two years.

“At least she knows who I am,” she quipped to Justin.

They both smiled.

“So, sleeping beauty decided to wake up.” Justin winked at me. “Thank God, that nappy-ass hair of hers needs a scrub. Shampoo, anyone?” He made wiggly motions with his fingers.

I rolled my eyes, but it hurt my head and I winced.

Mom squeezed my hand. “Justin, hand me that tea.” She was wearing her trademark T-shirt and hip-hugging jeans. Her feet were bare, and she sat on the bed with her legs crossed as if she'd been meditating. Her long blond curls, identical to mine, were pulled in a loose ponytail at her neck. It sounds strange to say it, but my mother is beautiful. Most women my mom's age spend a fortune on moisturizers and wrinkle creams. Not her. She makes her own soaps and creams and she can pass for forty, even though she's pushing fifty.

She guided the straw from the cup of tea to my mouth and I sipped the peppermint concoction. Calmness settled into my body for a few seconds.

Then the memory of the stairway to the roof and an image of Melinda on the edge, the wind whipping her hair around her face, filled my head.

“It's my fault,” I whispered when Mom took the straw away. “I don't know exactly what happened, but I feel guilty so I know I did something wrong. I'm the reason she jumped.”

She handed the cup back to Justin and smoothed my hair away from my face. “No, honey, it wasn't you. The police tell us you were trying to help, that you were getting through to her. If anything you're a hero. That young woman was troubled and she made her choice. There's nothing you could have done.”

My mom is one of the brightest people I know. Unfortunately, she was wrong about this.

“If I hadn't—I don't know.” The words jumbled in my head and I couldn't get them out. “I can't remember what she said, but she was there on the ledge.”

“Your mom's right, girl. We know who is to blame and so does everyone else in that office. Time for you to concentrate on getting better.” Justin moved around and sat on the other side of the bed.

“What do you mean?” I stared around the room. My arms were hooked up to IVs and a monitor beeped in the background. “Am I in a hospital? What day is it?” My confused brain couldn't quite get with the program.

Mom frowned and I saw one tiny wrinkle at the corner of her mouth. That would mean an instant trip for Botox to most of the women I work with, but my mom sees wrinkles as something people earn. “You fainted on the roof of your office building, and the paramedics brought you here. You've been unconscious for a week. This is the first time you've been able to speak. The doctors say you are suffering from exhaustion and some very serious bacterial and viral infections. Justin tells me you haven't had a vacation in two years, and that you've become a workaholic.” She said the last word as if it were poison.

I shot Justin my most evil glare. He only grinned.

“So I'm taking you home with me for a few weeks.”

“What?” I tried to scream. It came out as more of a hoarse whisper. When I moved to sit up, the effort made the muscles in my back and arms ache and burn. I fell back on the pillow.

She sighed. “I know hanging out with your father and me isn't on your top-ten list of favorite things to do, but you need some rest, and you need someone to look after you.”

“No. I've been looking after myself for years. I'll be fine,” I said in my stern lawyer voice. It's this tone that makes Justin say, “Okeydokey, girlfriend, I'm going to run and get you a chocolate chip Frappuccino, cuz you need some mochalicious love.”

It didn't exactly work with my mother, either.

“Yes,” she said in her mom voice, which is about two levels above my lawyer voice and comes with a really mean look. Usually Mom is about peace and love and let's all get along, but I could tell she wouldn't back down this time. “I don't want to point fingers, lovely daughter, but you haven't exactly taken very good care of yourself.” She waved a hand around the hospital room.

“I won't go.” I sounded like a petulant child. I couldn't help it.

“The doctor says you need to take these.” Justin interrupted to give me two pills in a little plastic cup.

“What are they?” I held them in the palm of my hand, eyeing them warily.

“Um, something to do with the infection. You have mono, which is why you can't come back to the office. You're totally contagious, and that combined with the bacterial infection makes you socially unacceptable.” He put his hands on his hips. “So, you might as well go home with your mom.”

I raised an eyebrow. “She wore you down, didn't she?”

“Your mother is a beautiful, lovely woman who only wants to take care of you.” Justin bit his lip. “She says they have a great place and you can get plenty of rest. In fact, it sounds so cool, I might come for a visit.” He crossed his arms.

“No. I'm not going. I can take care of myself at my condo. In fact, that's exactly what I'm going to do.” I reached for the cup of tea, but I couldn't lift it. “What the hell is wrong with me?” I demanded.

“It's the mono doing battle with the upper respiratory infection.” My mom sighed. “Take the antivirals.” She lifted the straw to my lips again. “Get some rest. Justin and I need to pack a few of your things. The doctors said that as soon as you opened those beautiful eyes of yours, we could take you home. I'm checking you out of this place, and we're leaving first thing in the morning.”

I knew I should have argued more, but I didn't have the strength. “Mom, I don't want to go home. I'm sorry.” I thought about being in Atlanta, alone with my dark memories of Melinda. “But maybe it's not such a bad idea. Maybe for a few days.” At least my parents would be a distraction. I'm the kind of woman who always has a plan for everything, but my mind wasn't up to connecting the dots, and I needed my mom, even though I loathed admitting it.

I grabbed Justin's hand. “Don't forget to pack my briefcase with the contracts and the Blake merger research, my laptop, and make sure you change the meeting set for two weeks from…I guess it's one week now.” I'd been out of it for almost seven full days. I hadn't missed a day of work in…well, ever, so I was due at least this small vacation. “Tell them we'll do a conference call. Dobson better have those numbers ready—tell him I said so. And…Why are you looking at me like that?”

Smirking, Justin patted my arm. “The boss lady is back. Listen, you're on a leave of absence. You don't have to do any work until the docs give you the okay. So no worries, chica.” He leaned down and kissed my cheek.

“Justin, just do what I said, okay?”

He shrugged, and I let out an exasperated breath. “If you don't, I'll call someone else at the office to do it for me.”

“Whatever.” He rolled his eyes. “You rest, I promise to take care of everything, including sending you back to your hometown looking like a true diva. Oh, yeah, I love being Kira's personal stylist. Sweet isn't going to know what hit it.”

I'm going home.
A week ago the thought of returning would have made me sick to my stomach, but now…now I wanted to be there. I might not fit in, but at least it was far away from what had happened here in Atlanta. Fresh air and a few days' rest wasn't such a bad deal. At the very least I could assuage some of the guilt I felt over not visiting my parents for the last two years.

My eyelids grew heavy and I drifted off on a drug-induced cloud of whatever it was they'd given me. Just as I relaxed, an image of Melinda flitted into my brain. I knew no matter how far away I went, the nightmares would continue.