happen, Tom?” By the expression on his face, I guessed he wasn’t delivering happy news.
Chapter Eighteen
Before he answered, movement drew my attention to the glass entry door. A man in a wrinkled suit stumbled up the old front steps—the concrete had cracked and crumbled a long time ago.
The bell on the door handle jangled as the man entered. His brown, striped suit looked as if it may have fit him about twenty years ago, which was probably when he’d bought it. His thinning gray hair stuck to his head with perspiration.
“ May I help you?” I asked and gave the widest smile my face would allow. The café may be on the verge of closing, but in case this man was a real customer, the least I could do was give him a pleasant dining experience. I’d want the same done for me, although some folks in this town weren’t the hospitable type, to say the least.
“ This is a legal matter,” he said.
My eyebrows rose and I wiped my hands on my pants. “You’ll have to speak to my lawyer. I told Ray I wasn’t talking to him about this anymore.”
I wondered if this wasn’t about magic and really had to do with that snake, Ray Russell. No way was he getting the Mustang back. I’d burn it first. Well, maybe not burn it, but still….
Ray had persuaded me to accept his engagement ring with his smooth talk. Thank goodness I hadn’t followed through with it. Why had I let him talk me into moving in, anyway? I’d given up my dreams to be with that slimeball. What can I say? I was young and in love—and stupid. I had no way of knowing I was making such a big mistake. My grandma knew, though. And my mother, my best friend, cousins… They tried to warn me when I’d first met him, but when you’re twenty-one years old, all the answers seem to be at your fingertips. I knew it all. At twenty-eight, I realized I knew nothing. But deep down, I’d never pictured a future with him. Not a real future, nothing past six months. I’d always lived day by day.
Things had a way of working out for the best sometimes, though. If I’d married Ray, I would never have gotten the café. Grandma Imelda never had liked him and she’d probably never have given me the café if he was still around. A small price to pay, I guess. After all, I had loved him—I’d been blinded by love. I wondered what Ray would say if he knew I was the owner of this place now. He’d probably want to be involved in some way. Over my dead body.
The man scrunched his brows together and placed his briefcase on the counter. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” He popped the lock on the old leather tote and pulled out a card. “I’m with the National Organization of Magic.”
So, my original hunch had been correct. Was the situation really that serious? Why was he here?
The man’s wide brown eyes gave me the once-over. “I’m lookin’ for Elly Blair. Is this her?” He glowered at Tom and pointed at me.
I frowned and waved my hand halfheartedly. “Yes, it’s me.”
“ I’m here to talk about the magic.” His lip twitched.
I’d assumed as much.
I swallowed hard. My mouth turned dry. “All right. Please have a seat anywhere you like.”
He seemed so formal I wanted to ask if I really needed an attorney. I didn’t actually have one, but they didn’t know that.
“ Mr. Owenton has briefed me on the situation. I understand what has happened to the poor man in question.”
Poor man? He had women following him everywhere he went. Did they realize how many men would pay big bucks to be in that exact situation? Sure, it sucked, but it wasn’t as if I’d turned him into a toad or a donkey. There were worse fates.
“ My name’s Bart Wibble.” He shifted the ratty leather briefcase clutched in his right hand to his left and stuck out his hand toward me. I reached over the counter and grasped it. His palm was as sweaty as his head.
I eyed him up and down. “You’ve come to look into my magic, I assume?” With Grandma
Chapter Eighteen
Before he answered, movement drew my attention to the glass entry door. A man in a wrinkled suit stumbled up the old front steps—the concrete had cracked and crumbled a long time ago.
The bell on the door handle jangled as the man entered. His brown, striped suit looked as if it may have fit him about twenty years ago, which was probably when he’d bought it. His thinning gray hair stuck to his head with perspiration.
“ May I help you?” I asked and gave the widest smile my face would allow. The café may be on the verge of closing, but in case this man was a real customer, the least I could do was give him a pleasant dining experience. I’d want the same done for me, although some folks in this town weren’t the hospitable type, to say the least.
“ This is a legal matter,” he said.
My eyebrows rose and I wiped my hands on my pants. “You’ll have to speak to my lawyer. I told Ray I wasn’t talking to him about this anymore.”
I wondered if this wasn’t about magic and really had to do with that snake, Ray Russell. No way was he getting the Mustang back. I’d burn it first. Well, maybe not burn it, but still….
Ray had persuaded me to accept his engagement ring with his smooth talk. Thank goodness I hadn’t followed through with it. Why had I let him talk me into moving in, anyway? I’d given up my dreams to be with that slimeball. What can I say? I was young and in love—and stupid. I had no way of knowing I was making such a big mistake. My grandma knew, though. And my mother, my best friend, cousins… They tried to warn me when I’d first met him, but when you’re twenty-one years old, all the answers seem to be at your fingertips. I knew it all. At twenty-eight, I realized I knew nothing. But deep down, I’d never pictured a future with him. Not a real future, nothing past six months. I’d always lived day by day.
Things had a way of working out for the best sometimes, though. If I’d married Ray, I would never have gotten the café. Grandma Imelda never had liked him and she’d probably never have given me the café if he was still around. A small price to pay, I guess. After all, I had loved him—I’d been blinded by love. I wondered what Ray would say if he knew I was the owner of this place now. He’d probably want to be involved in some way. Over my dead body.
The man scrunched his brows together and placed his briefcase on the counter. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” He popped the lock on the old leather tote and pulled out a card. “I’m with the National Organization of Magic.”
So, my original hunch had been correct. Was the situation really that serious? Why was he here?
The man’s wide brown eyes gave me the once-over. “I’m lookin’ for Elly Blair. Is this her?” He glowered at Tom and pointed at me.
I frowned and waved my hand halfheartedly. “Yes, it’s me.”
“ I’m here to talk about the magic.” His lip twitched.
I’d assumed as much.
I swallowed hard. My mouth turned dry. “All right. Please have a seat anywhere you like.”
He seemed so formal I wanted to ask if I really needed an attorney. I didn’t actually have one, but they didn’t know that.
“ Mr. Owenton has briefed me on the situation. I understand what has happened to the poor man in question.”
Poor man? He had women following him everywhere he went. Did they realize how many men would pay big bucks to be in that exact situation? Sure, it sucked, but it wasn’t as if I’d turned him into a toad or a donkey. There were worse fates.
“ My name’s Bart Wibble.” He shifted the ratty leather briefcase clutched in his right hand to his left and stuck out his hand toward me. I reached over the counter and grasped it. His palm was as sweaty as his head.
I eyed him up and down. “You’ve come to look into my magic, I assume?” With Grandma
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