Page 18 of Witchful Thinking
“Um…Thank you. I try to stay humble.”
“I know you read tea leaves, but—wow. We just had an unexpected opening in the annual cakewalk fundraiser.” Mayor Walker clicked a few buttons on her phone. She lifted a plucked eyebrow. “Would you like to submit a dessert?”
Lucy held back a squeal. “I’d be honored.”
Mayor Walker cheered. Lucy basked in the sudden praise. She’d always wished that she had a dessert worthy of the Grove Cakewalk, but maybe her cowboy blondies would be good enough this year.
“I’ve never had croquembouche.” Mayor Walker did an excited shimmy, attention focused on her phone. “I’m excited to see what you can do.”
Hold up. Lucy leaned back. She’d seen an online video about the towering fancy French wedding cake covered in caramel, but she sure as Hecate didn’t know how to make it. She opened her mouth to correct the mistake.
“I don’t—I—” she stammered out. Lucy felt her tongue cramp and still, rendering her unable to speak. The sugar stuck like glue, holding her lips together. Maybe she should’ve splurged for that bottled water.
“What was that, dear?” Mayor Walker looked up at her. Lucy couldn’t respond, so she grinned. Mayor Walker gave her a thumbs-up. “I’ll get your contact information from Ursula. Enjoy your night.”
Lucy returned the gesture, and Mayor Walker left without a second glance. She forced her mouth open. Why would she think I could make croquembouche? Suddenly it hit her. Lucy tossed her leftovers in the trash can and dug into her purse. She opened her email and clicked on the most recent edition of the In the Grove e-newsletter. Her eyes skimmed it until she came across the class notes. They were listed alphabetically so, surprise, surprise, her note was first.
A numbing sensation took over her body with each line.
The last ten years have been super busy for super home witch Lucy Caraway. In between perfecting her croquembouche recipe, training for her third marathon, finding her karaoke voice, and practicing interior design styling, Lucy continues to teach history to curious teens at Freya Grove High School. Recent travels include a wild high-roller weekend to Atlantic City and a campout under the stars at the Delaware Water Gap National Recreation Area. She plans to apply for a prestigious teaching program at the Library of Congress. Currently, she’s decorating her HGTV dream home with her possible soul mate and planning for a bright future with her cat and a menagerie of plants.
She was so stunned, she checked to make sure her heart hadn’t fallen out of her butt.
No, no, no. This wasn’t real. None of this was real. This was the wrong class note. She needed to tell Quentin to retract it. He’d understand the error. She couldn’t be blamed for what happened when she drank too much Bathwater Brew. Her fingers flew, drafting out an email in less than a minute. Lucy hovered over the send button, but the email disappeared in a blink.
Wait, what? Lucy drafted out another one, but it was gone just as quickly.
It disappeared like magic. Her knees buckled.
Be careful what you wish for because you just might get it…The refrain played in her head, and she willed herself to stand up. She’d cast her net wide and pulled in a freaking giant squid. Spells didn’t work that fast unless…Lucy struggled to finish that thought. She’d never had a spell work this fast. It had to be the Wish Spell at work. She needed to go home, make a massive pot of tea, and come up with a plan.
“Lucy!” a familiar voice called.
Her head snapped up from her thoughts. A flush crept across her cheeks.
Marcus Walker, as cute as he wanted to be with his Steven Q. Urkel–chic look, waved. She stumbled backward when he called out to her again. She knew from the curious light in his eyes and the way his head tilted to the side that he’d seen the email. Nope. He’d want to know about the soul mate. He’d want to know who she’d leave him for. Lucy didn’t have a name. The lights on the giant Ferris wheel filled the darkening sky with animated colors that elicited delightful squeals from the crowd. All she saw was the empty passenger seat before her.
What’s your escape plan?
Someone else was in that gondola, but she couldn’t see their face.
Callie’s warning rang in her head like a phone alarm. Stay away from the Ferris wheel!
Desperation pulled her toward the Ferris wheel stairs. She’d rather ride with a pillow stuffed with onions than talk to Marcus right now. She was in a tough spot. She didn’t know the rules of this spell, but she knew she didn’t have an answer for him.
Get on. Freya Grove was so small that she’d probably end up riding with her friend’s sister’s cousin’s favorite barber for an uncomfortable five minutes. She jumped up the stairs leading to the boarding platform, ripped off half a dozen tickets from the strips in her purse, and thrust them at the operator. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Marcus barreling forward. The ride operator, with his baby face, barely looked a year out of middle school, but he took the tickets.
“Close the door behind me,” she begged him. “Please.”
Lucy ducked inside the gondola. The operator waved off Marcus like a preschool bouncer. The door closed and locked behind her with an audible click. Safe. Dimly aware of the person across from her, she closed her eyes and relaxed against the stiff seat. Thank you, universe.
“Well, this is a ride we won’t forget.”
Her skin prickled at the sound of his bemused voice. Her eyes popped open. Familiar hazel eyes stared in her direction. Great.
“We have to stop meeting like this,” Alex said slyly.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”