Samhain (Matilda Kavanagh Book 2) (32 page)

My phone chirped, telling me I had a text message. The voice mail was probably full.

Second half of payment is secured.

And?

And the late fee as well.

Great. My business hours haven’t started for the day, but I suppose I could make an exception. Just this once.

Will arrive within the half hour.

“Of course you will,” I said with a smirk as I set the phone on the coffee table and picked up my coffee cup again. Before I knew what kind of man Dixon Fox really was, I would have run into my bathroom and fixed my hair, touched up my makeup, and put on some respectable clothes. But now I knew what kind of toadstool he was, and I didn’t care if I met with him without a stitch of makeup and in my pajamas.

So that was exactly what I looked like when I answered the door less than twenty minutes later. My hair was pushed back behind my ears, my face washed clean, and I wore an oversized Black Witch White Magic T-shirt and a pair of baggy flannel pajama bottoms.

Edwin was as crisp as ever in his lean-cut charcoal suit, high-polished black wingtip shoes, white shirt, and pin-straight royal-blue tie. He pushed his glasses up his nose after nodding hello to me. He hadn’t even skipped a beat when he took in my appearance—you’d think I was wearing some high-fashion dress.

But Fox was a different story altogether.

He was covered head to toe. He had on a black trench cloak in deference to the drizzle outside, but he’d turned up the collar and had a scarf wrapped around his neck and pulled up over his mouth and nose. His wide-brimmed hat was pulled low over his forehead. I could barely see his eyes through the tiny slit between fabrics. He didn’t extend a hand in greeting this time, but I saw his black leather gloves. He’d taken way too long to come around, so I was sure the pustules had spread from just his face to the rest of his body. Shouldn’t be so damn stubborn. At least he was lucky it was fall. Just imagine how uncomfortable he would’ve been if it had been summer.

When he looked at me, I greeted him with my brightest, happiest smile. “Gentlemen.”

I stood back, holding the door open. Edwin came in, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet, but Fox stormed in, stomping like the child he was.

I barely had the door shut before Fox spun around, ripping off the hat and scarf. “How dare you do this to me!”

I glanced over my shoulder long enough to get a good look at his face. His once perfectly chiseled, tan face was stretched and swollen and covered in green and red pustules. The potion was meant to reverse the healing potion I’d given him and make whatever
uncomfortable
ailment he’d had appear on his face. I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. He really needed to be more discerning when picking out his mistresses.

“Take it easy, Fox,” I warned as I set the freezing spell on the doorknob. “I got to you once. Obviously I can do it again. And don’t forget: you’re in my home now.”

“Don’t you dare threaten me,” he seethed.

“Not a threat, Fox,” I said with a shake of my head. “So just shove it, okay? We had a business deal, and I came through with my end. You brought this on yourself.” I pointed at his face just as one of the swollen red globs burst. I gagged.

Fox hissed in pain, squeezing his eyes shut and gritting his teeth. “Fine.” His hands balled into fists at his side. “Edwin!” he snapped.

Edwin came forward, pulling a thick envelope out of his jacket pocket. “You’ll find every dollar you are owed.”

“Awesome,” I said, taking it from him, “but you’ll forgive me if I go ahead and count it anyway.”

Fox groaned, rolling his eyes, but Edwin nodded his approval. I took my time, laying each bill on the kitchen table and counting slowly and methodically. Fox huffed and puffed as his patience unraveled. Another pustule burst on the side of his jaw.

I’d admit I was enjoying his pain, but I gave in when I realized he was starting to drip on my floor and it would be up to me to clean it after they were gone.

I’d known Fox would come crawling back, so I already had his potion ready and sitting in my cupboard. He eyed me when I pulled it out. He probably expected me to brew it in front of him or do something magical.

I held out the vial, waiting for him to take it. “I knew you’d show up eventually, so I had it ready.”

Fox lifted his hand but hesitated.

“Oh, for the love of toads, Fox, just take it before you ruin my floors.”

Fox glared at me before snatching the vial. He downed the whole thing in one swallow. I felt the tension radiating off Edwin as he watched his boss’s face. The potion only took a moment to begin its work. The pustules shrank and faded as we watched, and soon his skin was no longer swollen. Within minutes, Fox’s newspaper-perfect face was back to normal.

“Nice doing business with you, gentlemen,” I said in an overly chipper voice.

I turned to open the door to show them out. Fox didn’t say a word; he just brushed past me, his long stride carrying him into the hall in the blink of an eye. I shook my head and glanced at Edwin, who was hesitating just inside the door.

“I do apologize for the...” He glanced out the door and sighed when he looked back at me. “I’m sorry he’s such an ass.”

“So you do see it,” I teased, feeling a normal smile pulling at my lips. “Well, thanks. I’m sorry he’s such an ass too.”

“Have a good night, Ms. Kavanagh.”

“Mattie,” I said, making him stop mid-turn.

“Mattie,” he said with a nod.

“Listen, if you ever run for office, I’d totally vote for you.” I glanced past him at Fox, who was waiting for the elevator. “You’d definitely win over that jackass.”

“I’ll remember you said that.” He smiled at me, the first smile I thought I’d ever seen on his stoic face.

“Night, Edwin,” I said, stepping back to close the door.

“Good morning, Mattie.” He turned to join Fox just as the elevator
binged
and the doors slid open.

Chapter 22

I slept for hours after the two men left. When I finally woke, it was well after midnight. I owed myself a little down time, especially since I finally had enough money to enjoy a little time off work. But there was something I wanted to do first. Or rather, someone I wanted to see.

I took extra care straightening my hair, running the flat iron over my short black locks until they shone like spilled ink. I used my most expensive mascara, the one I saved for holidays and first dates (though lately it had only been used for holidays), swiping my lashes until they stood out like a magazine ad. My hand hovered over my perfume for a moment before I decided against using it.

I think I changed my clothes about a dozen times before I settled on my favorite pair of dark jeans, boots, and a simple black sweater since the storm still hadn’t let up. I finished with my short black leather jacket and a smaller, more feminine purse. I poured some cream for Artie and scratched him between the ears before I went out the door and headed down the block, hiding under my umbrella. I didn’t know how I knew, but something in my gut told me that I would find Fletcher at The Brownie’s Bite.

When I opened the Plexiglas door and the smell of warm chocolate and bacon wafted over me, I spotted him sitting alone in a corner booth. A small part of me had been worried that he would be with his vampire cronies, the ones I hadn’t made the best first impression on. So when I saw him alone, a small smile flitted over my face and I breathed a little easier.

A dwarf man gave me a dirty look, and I realized I had been holding the door open for too long, letting in the cold night air. I whispered my apology and stepped forward, allowing the door to swing closed.

My feet felt like two blocks of cement, rooting me to the spot, and I didn’t know what to do with my hands. I stared across the crowded restaurant at the back of Fletcher’s head. I think a small part of me wanted him to just know I was standing there and to instinctively turn to look at me. Somehow my imagination had turned this into a cliché rom-com movie.

I closed my eyes, grounding myself and trying to let go of the nerves charging through me. Fletcher had already confessed his feelings for me, so there was no point in freaking out. But when he had left my apartment, I knew it was with the feeling of rejection. Maybe I had waited too long. Maybe I would walk up to him and he would sneer at me and dismiss me with a wave. Maybe Owen would get what he wanted and I would be alone again.

Heat flashed through me at the thought of Owen, chasing away my doubts and fueling me to take that first step into the restaurant. The bells on the door announced the arrival of a new customer, but I didn’t bother to look over my shoulder. I knew I needed to keep moving forward or I might lose my nerve again.

“Excuse me,” a feminine voice said in my ear just as I was about to step between two tables.

Her hand on my arm stopped me, and I turned to look at her. She was so pretty, it actually stopped me for a moment. She was a couple inches taller than me, like most people, and she was thin without being skinny. Through her designer jeans and off-the-shoulder sweater, I saw an enviable figure. Her skin was the color of creamy caramel, and it complemented her cinnamon hair that tumbled past her shoulders in thick, bouncy curls. But it was her face that really took my breath away.

I wasn’t sure if she was wearing any makeup, but if she wasn’t, she certainly didn’t need it. Her brown eyes were the shape of almonds, surrounded by a thick fringe of lashes, and there were flecks of gold that moved like liquid fire in her eyes. She had the most adorable pixie-like nose and a bow mouth that was just the right shade of pink for her skin tone. I hated her just a little bit. When I stepped back to let her pass, she flashed me a bright smile that pulled an answering smile from me.

“Thank you,” she said in the most sincere tone I’d ever heard. You’d think I’d just saved her cat from a burning building.

“Sure,” I croaked. I closed my eyes against the painful sound of my voice. I felt my embarrassment creep up my neck. When I got myself together again and opened my eyes, I stopped once more like I’d taken a fist to the gut. My mouth fell open at the sight of Fletcher getting out of his booth to greet the beautiful girl.

He smiled at her, his eyes going soft and his whole being lighting up. He took her shoulders and looked into her face, her beautiful face, before pressing a kiss to either cheek. She smiled at Fletcher, and even at that distance, I could tell it was the best smile in her arsenal. She lifted up on her toes and wrapped her arms around his neck to hug him as his arms went around her waist, crushing her to him.

My stomach had lodged somewhere between my chest and throat. I took a few steps back until I bumped into a chair, making it squeal against the linoleum. I caught my balance on the table and hurried back to the door. I thought I heard my name over the din of the restaurant and the blood rushing in my ears, but I didn’t look back. I just wanted to get to that door and out of that tiny, crowded room.

I hit the door hard, sending it flying open, and the bells attached to the handle jangled noisily. The damp air stabbed at my face like tiny knives, and my lungs felt as if they were full of broken glass, but it was still easier to breathe outside than it was inside The Bite.

“Idiot, idiot, idiot,” I chanted at myself as I caught my breath. The words appeared in the air in tiny white puffs. I ran my fingers through my hair, pushing it out of my face. I felt tiny water droplets clinging to my unusually long lashes, and when I blinked, they clung to my cheeks like tear drops.

“Mattie,” Fletcher said behind me.

I felt the warm air of the restaurant wafting around me as he stood holding the door open. I could imagine the black smears under my eyes and my hair falling flat under the damp air. There was nothing I wanted more than keeping him from seeing me like that. I seriously thought about running and not looking back, just pretending I didn’t hear him. But I didn’t. I thought about digging out my cell phone and pretending as though I’d just gotten a phone call. But I didn’t. A dozen different ways to avoid turning to look at him went through my head, and I dismissed them all.

“Hey, Fletcher,” I said, half turning toward him. I wiped my face, trying to get rid of the mascara marks. I needed to invest in some water-proof mascara.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Why’d you run out like that? Are you okay?”

“Oh, sure,” I said lightly, trying to smile. It felt more like a cringe. “Just realized I forgot something at home and was going to go get it.”

“It looked like you were having a panic attack or something.” He let go of the door and came forward until he was standing just inches away from me.

When he looked into my face, it wasn’t with that same beatific smile he’d given Miss Perfect. When he looked at me, there was a pinched and worried look to his eyes, and his lips were in a thin line. I looked away, tucking my hair behind my ears and wishing I’d gone to see Ronnie instead. Through the mist, I saw her sign glowing yellow in the distance.

“Mattie?” Fletcher touched my chin, bending his fingers under my jaw and gently lifting my face to his.

“Yeah?” I managed, glad I didn’t croak at him as I had at his date.

“Did you come to see me?”

“No.”

“You’re lying.”

“You don’t know that.” Every part of me screamed at me to step back, out of his reach, and to just leave before I embarrassed myself further. But I didn’t. I liked that he was standing so close to me and that his hand was still on my chin.

“Actually, I do.” Finally his face lost that pinched and worried quality, and he smiled at me.

“How?”

He touched the side of his nose with his free hand. “The nose knows.”

I smirked—I couldn’t help it. But when I did, he let go of my face and crossed his arms. If I had just stayed still, he would still be touching me.

“So why did you run out like that?” he asked.