Witches Under Way (19 page)
Authors: Debora Geary
No. Lizard started carrying stuff to the table. Cooking had always been her deal, though. It was weird to get kicked out of the kitchen.
Tell me about it.
Jamie grinned, porting wine glasses into place on the table.
Nat’s cooking pregnancy potions with Ginia in our kitchen. No geeky boys allowed.
Lizard snorted.
So you’re really here to sponge food?
Pretty much. Trust me—you don’t want to know what goes into potions.
Nope, she totally didn’t.
Elsie turned from the stove, dripping ladle in her hand. “I think it’s done. Jamie, do you want to taste test?”
“Hell, no.” Jamie held out a plate and discreetly ported away the mess the ladle had made on the floor. “I want to eat.”
Lizard grabbed a plate and got in line. It smelled seriously good—and she was hungry enough to eat even if her nose lied. She nearly drooled as Elsie upended a ladle of sauce over her noodles. “So how come there aren’t people lined up around the block holding plates?” A month in Witch Central, and she was well aware what happened when witches smelled food.
“It’s top secret.” Jamie was already at the table, fork in hand. “Elsie wanted some space to experiment before she tries to feed the hungry hordes.”
“Since when have witches needed an invitation?” Lizard, still standing, spooned in her first bite, heavy on the tomato sauce. Tangy bliss rolled over her tongue, and she tumbled into a fog of tomato goodness. It took half the plate to notice the noodles were homemade—probably Jamie’s contribution—and that she was still standing.
Lizard was no dummy. She headed for the stove before sitting down, and piled her plate halfway to the ceiling. Setting her treasure down carefully on the table, she snagged another mouthful, and then gestured at Elsie and Jamie’s plates.
You guys want more?
Jamie pushed her into a seat with one hand, the other snagging his plate. “I’ll get my own. Eat fast—I can’t promise the hordes won’t smell this.”
Three forkfuls into the mountain, Lizard finally pulled enough of her brain away from food to read the dumbfounded awe in Elsie’s mind. Confused, she looked up at her roommate, trying to get a better read.
“It’s really good,” whispered Elsie, staring at her fork.
“Good” was a really wimpy word. And Lizard had lots of words. “It’s stupendous. Magnificent. Monumentally scrumptious.” She vaguely registered the surprised pride in Elsie’s head.
“Nice one.” Jamie plunked back down at the table, a mountain to rival Lizard’s on his plate. “Elsie, there are people who will tell you this is better than mine.” He grinned. “They might be right.”
Now the pride was ringing clearer. Elsie blushed and twirled more noodles on her fork.
It was Jamie who had Lizard’s attention now. People just didn’t give up their claim to fame that easily. Jamie had decades as the reigning king of spaghetti sauce.
I’m not that old
, he sent with a mental snort.
Whatever. She’d had his sauce. Elsie’s was a pretty serious competitor, but still.
There’s room for more royalty. Witch Central can easily handle another sauce diva.
Lizard took one more moment to wonder where that kind of easy generosity came from—and then she dug back into her noodle heap. Philosophy could wait. Even if Jamie was still watching her with eyes that were doing way too much thinking.
Then he switched his gaze to Elsie. “When are you going to invite everybody over for a taste test?”
Lizard snorted. Unless they barred the doors, an invitation wasn’t going to be necessary. She hoped her roommate could repeat her tomato miracle.
Elsie looked down at her fork for a long moment. “Tomorrow. For breakfast.” She smiled. “I have a little project, and I need help.”
No one at the table was dumb enough to point out that people didn’t usually eat spaghetti for breakfast. For this kind of sauce, a world of exceptions could be made.
~ ~ ~
Her pendant was vibrating—and Jennie was pretty sure that this time, it was mad at her. She was about to meddle, and for all the wrong reasons.
She’d asked Josh to meet her for coffee. If Melvin had ever done any such thing, she’d have turned his accounting ledgers into concrete.
Way out of line. She knew it, her pendant knew it, and if Josh was half as smart as Lauren seemed to think, he knew it too. Which made it all the more interesting that he’d agreed to come. Jennie shook her head and opened the door to the Headbeater Cafe. It had seemed like an appropriate location.
Josh waved from over at the coffee bar. Points to him for being early. More points for the mix of caution and curiosity in his eyes.
Jennie sighed. Sometimes love made you stupid—and she really loved Lizard. Walking over to the bar, she slid up onto the stool beside Josh. “I appreciate you coming.”
“Interesting choice of venue.” He grinned and caught the barista’s attention with the kind of smooth ease that said he’d been here before and tipped big. Headbeater baristas lived parallel lives as a biker gang or something—they were legendary for their cranky service.
Jennie ordered one of their insanely good Killer Espressos and figured a caffeine buzz that would keep her up all night was a good start to her penance. “I figured if I was going to be stupid and harass a young man I hardly know, I could at least offer both of us good coffee while I did it.”
His mind reflected no surprise at all. Lauren was right—he was plenty smart. “I’m not all that easy to harass, but I’m pretty much a coffee addict, so you have a captive audience until my cup is empty. Care to share the general topic?”
Jennie tried not to squirm in her seat as he lobbed this mess squarely back at her. “I’m a friend of Lizard’s.” Oh, so many miles out of line, and she hadn’t even gotten started. “And I’m reaching the age where I might get away with being a nosy old busybody, so I wanted to meet you.”
“She’s my real estate agent.” Josh’s lips quirked. “Meeting with all her clients must keep you pretty busy.”
The punk boy was playing her. Jennie tried not to be amused, although he’d done a good deal to calm her nerves already. “You’d be the first, and I imagine you’ve figured that out.”
He didn’t even try to hide his grin this time. “Pretty much. So why is one of the best portrait photographers in the world pointing her lens in my direction?”
She blinked. Very few people under forty had any idea who she was. “Googled me, did you?”
“Nope.” He sniffed happily as a steaming mug of dark coffee slid onto the bar in front of him. “Didn’t have to. My great-uncle is Charlie Tosh. I grew up listening to him curse about how you always had the light on your side.”
Charlie Tosh was a photography legend—easily the most talented artist with light and shadow she’d ever known. He was also a prickly bastard who scared off half his intended targets before he managed to get his camera pointed. They’d shared awards, fought publicly and privately, and generally been the face of an entire generation of photographers.
And she was only barely aware he had a family at all. “How is Charlie?”
Josh’s eyes lit with humor. “Totally obnoxious and reaching the age where he thinks he might get away with being a grumpy old man.”
Jennie laughed and sipped her coffee. Charlie had been born a grumpy old man. “Did he ever put a camera in your hands?”
“Nope. He hid them in the highest cupboard in his house under lock and key.”
A
sneaky
grumpy old man. “And did it work?”
“Sure did. All of us messed with a camera at some point. I got more fascinated by what you could do to the images once you had them on the computer.”
“Heathen.” Jennie knew how to edit a digital photo. She just hated it.
“Yeah.” Josh grinned and reached over the counter for a donut. He’d definitely been here before—getting service twice required an act of God. “Uncle Charlie always says he created a monster. The first piece of really nice code I ever wrote got bought by Adobe. It’s built into the filters in Photoshop now.”
“Which ones?” If it was the color-saturation adjustment, she had a complaint to lodge.
He frowned. “I thought you didn’t do digital editing.”
This meeting wasn’t going at all the way she’d planned. “For my professional stuff, no. But when I’ve taken two thousand snapshots of my grandbabies, I use the computer.” Even her legendary darkroom stamina couldn’t keep up with her need to capture their faces on camera.
She felt his mind suddenly questing, his face carefully blank. “Taken any of Lizard?”
It took a very brave man to go there—and one with more than a passing interest in her student. Jennie treaded very carefully. “Sure. Her tattoos look lovely in black and white.”
“Those tats of hers suggest a pretty interesting story.” He met her gaze squarely over his mug of coffee. “I’m not asking you to tell me what it is. But I am going to ask you to stay out of my way while I see if I can find out for myself.”
Game, set, and match to Josh. He was asking her to get back in line—and the asking part was just basic politeness. Jennie set down her cup and touched his arm. “Tell Charlie I said hello.” It was as close to an apology as she dared come.
Damn. She really liked him.
~ ~ ~
––––––––––––––
From: Jennie Adams <
[email protected]
>
Subject: Coming clean.
––––––––––––––
Dear Vero,
Tell Melvin he can hush my pendant now. I’m done causing trouble, and even if I weren’t, I don’t think Josh is the kind of man to be messed with.
I’m not sure why I felt so compelled to meet him. Overprotective, I guess. I’m not convinced Lizard is at all ready to have a force the size of Josh Hennessey in her life, but he’s made it very clear that it’s not my choice. I’d love a chance to get those eyes of his in front of my lens. Most of the young people I like best aren’t afraid to speak truth to power. That one isn’t afraid to
be
power.
And he’s Charlie Tosh’s great-nephew. Anyone that grew up around that man isn’t going to find Lizard’s occasional prickles at all challenging. I find myself wanting to warn her, but I think I’ve done enough meddling for one day.
I don’t know if she’s remotely ready for what he brings to her life, but one barely legal boy in jeans just told me to stay the hell out of his way—and I think I might just listen. For now, at least.
Elsie has sent an invitation to her house for breakfast. Spaghetti, complete with Jamie-coached tomato sauce. I have no idea what’s up, but I plan to be there at the crack of dawn, before anyone else smells food.
All my love,
Jennie
Chapter 14
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From: Vero Liantro <
[email protected]
>
Subject: Re: Coming clean.
––––––––––––––
Jennie my darling,
Melvin said to let you know that if your pendant was that easy for him to control, he’d have used his powers years ago. And that you are not the only WitchLight guide who has done questionable things in the name of love.
I will be more straightforward. The next time you go meet with that young man, I want an invitation, propriety be damned. By all accounts, he is disarming every watchtower guard Witch Central throws at him, and that’s quite an impressive feat.
But for all our blustering, his role in her life is Lizard’s to decide. I find myself thinking she might be more ready than we think to make a wise choice. Some of us needed a lot longer to grow up before we could contemplate the delightful chaos a partner adds to our life journeys, but carefully tucked under her tattoos, our Lizard is quite a smart cookie.
Yes, I know I’m way ahead of myself. Melvin is amused.
As for Elsie, I only want to know what treasures she offered up in exchange for Jamie’s sauce secrets. I’ve been trying to worm them out of him by means fair and foul going on fifteen years now.
And now my Melvin is chuckling again. He says Jamie didn’t do it for Elsie—he did it for his beautiful wife. Which, now that I think about it, is rather obvious. It seems she did well to fire our Elsie—but I’m sure her soul has been hurting, probably far more than anyone other than my husband truly understands. And Jamie would have given up far more than spaghetti sauce to fix that.
Enjoy whatever delightfulness comes in the morning.
Sleep well,
Vero
~ ~ ~
Elsie looked around the kitchen, well aware she should be feeling frantic. The place was a mess of tomato splatters and squished herbs, she’d slept for all of three hours, and it was entirely possible no one was coming.
Caro snorted as she marched in the back door, an enormous pot in her hands. “They’re coming, my girl. Floods of them. I’ve brought you my biggest pasta pot—you’re going to need it.”