“Aaaand, how was it?”
A sly smile formed on Maggie’s face. “It was the most amazing, hottest sex of my life. And it was all night long too.”
“Jeesh! Lucky girl. But why just the one time?”
“As I said, I don’t want to fall into any kind of relationship right now. My head isn’t there, and it wouldn’t be fair. So it all worked out well for the time being.”
“Hmm. I get it. I should say I’m not getting any, but I get where you’re coming from. I just wish I knew how to find a good man. I’ve been so unlucky in that department. To think the three of you getting so lucky. What’s the secret? A lucky rabbit’s foot? Love potions?” Gina tried to keep the whole conversation casual, not wanting to give away the fact that she had stumbled upon the book of magic in the cupboard.
Maggie nearly twitched when Gina even hinted at the subject of magic. Finally, she shrugged. “You mean like magic? Who knows what people will try? As for Clara and Annie, my guess is they just got lucky finding some good guys. Sort of restores my hope that they still exist in the wild. Although I like the way you think. Anyway, a sweet thing like you? I’d say that if you’re looking for something, I’m sure you’ll find it.”
The rest of the afternoon, Gina recalled Maggie’s reaction to her off-the-cuff suggestion that some sort of magic might have been involved with her friends’ newfound love lives. She was determined to research that very subject the next chance she had.
She’d already familiarized herself with the basic required elements of spell casting from her self-studies. Beeswax candles? Check. Magic wand? Check. A shelf full of herbs and spices? Plenty. And finally, the most important ingredient … a predisposition for magic. Did she have it? In other words, was she born with the special talent to practice witchcraft?
There was only one way to find out.
The problem was the way the spells were written. The book was unlike anything she had ever seen. As were the spells. They seemed vague with rambling prose, which often contained phrases in obscure languages. If she understood it correctly, there was a spell that promised to reveal her location to her soul mate. Hopefully. After setting up the table with the candles and the pentagram formed with the required herbs, she paced around the room.
What if she misunderstood the meaning of the spell? Comforting herself that it at least was located in the chapter reserved for love, lust, and sex, she decided the worst that could happen was absolutely nothing, and she’d end up feeling foolish. Then again, she might at least get laid. Or better yet, the spell would actually work, and she’d find her true love.
Sweeping the wand over the pentagram, she repeated the spell. Struggling to phonetically pronounce some of the strange words, she finished the task with the thought that she’d failed miserably.
After all, the lights didn’t flicker, and the flames of the candles didn’t dance or even extinguish. It was nothing like in the movies. It was pretty damn lame.
Resigned that she’d been wasting her time, Gina cleaned up the mess and sighed. “Well, it’s probably for the best that it didn’t work.”
ChapterFive
Nick Carver was fed up with just about everything in his life. His job sucked balls, his apartment was shit, and so was his landlord, and his girlfriend ran off with his best friend. The only positive in his life was his Chihuahua, Odin. He should have known not to trust his ex-girlfriend just for the simple fact that Odin had hated her from the moment the two had met, but she was hot, and he had definitely been thinking with the wrong head.
If he had only listened to Odin, he would have saved himself a fuckton of heartbreak. But no. He just had to learn the hard way.
It really came down to the fact that there was no reason for him to stay where he was. Not a single damn one. He wanted … needed something different.
A new job, a new life, a new girl, a new place to call home.
Check. Check. Check. Check.
Those were all the boxes that needed an immediate course correction. And they were all things he would find for himself as soon as he figured out where to start.
He poured himself a fourth glass of scotch and picked up a dart. Teetering back and forth, he aimed the dart the best he could.
“Arf,” Odin barked, seemingly unsure of his owner’s plan.
“Anything has to be better than this. Who knows? Maybe we’ll find you a girlfriend in the process.”
“Arf, arf.”
Nick ignored Odin and straightened his stance. He closed one eye and concentrated on the map of the U.S. hanging on the wall in front of him.
Wherever the dart landed was where he was headed. Even if it turned out to be some big city with a concrete jungle. Anywhere had to be better than where he was, both geographically and mentally. If he stayed in this shithole any longer, he would go batshit crazy, and that wasn’t something he felt like doing.
So a fresh start and a new life it was.
Nick let the dart fly. It landed on the map with a low thump. He picked up his glass and took a sip before walking over to see where the dart had landed.
“Misfit Bay, Louisiana,” he uttered.