The Memory Witch (14 page)

“Well, then we’re on the same page. When can you spring me?” I asked.

“How about Saturday night?” I nodded and he instructed, “Meet me at the edge of the front driveway at ten. She doesn’t have a view of that spot from her window.”

“Sounds like a non-date then.”

I thought time would slow down as I anticipated my non-date with Mason. In actuality, Stella kept me busy enough practicing simple spells that I put the outing in the back of my mind. Yet, there was no denying that the idea of having a night out eased the sting of my imprisonment at the Chadwick House.

After giving the matter some thought, I decided that Mason was right to put the brakes on something romantic happening between us. If I was completely honest with myself, it was probably for the best. He was older and he probably had expectations I would not be able to meet. The issues I had with sex weren’t going to disappear overnight. My body may respond to Mason, but my head would never let me give myself freely to him.

I was thankful that I didn’t end up consummating things with Tanner. I would’ve been left with a hell of a lot of regrets after discovering his deception. My guilt over not sleeping with him had faded. My instincts told me that he would’ve slept with Amber whether or not we had sex.

I wondered if Stella had suspicions of my plans to sneak out. She seemed bent on exhausting me by giving me task after task to complete without so much of a bathroom break. By the afternoon, she had me mixing a new batch of potions while she checked through her books for a spell I could take a crack at. Her conundrum lied in the fact she hating using magic unnecessarily. Nevertheless, she didn’t feel I was quite ready to start practicing on her clients.

“How about a financial gain spell?” she asked looking over the book.

“Yes! My mother could definitely use the help while I’m away,” I said and mentally kicked myself for not thinking of it sooner.

“Think about what you could sacrifice in return,” Stella advised.

This was always the toughest part of casting. What could I give up to provide my mother with a little financial stability while I was away? I went to my bedroom and looked over my possessions. As I judged each of my belongings, I had to look past the monetary value and decide how much it was worth to me on an emotional level. My eyes fell to my wrist—I was wearing the diamond tennis bracelet Tanner had given me over Christmas. It was my favorite piece of jewelry and I rarely took it off. Maybe it was time to let go of Tanner completely.

I walked downstairs and told Stella I was ready to perform the spell. Her trust was building and she didn’t even question what I planned to give up in order to complete the incantation.

After I announced my attention to forfeit the bracelet, Stella removed it from my wrist and slipped it into the pocket of her housecoat. My wrist felt barren and I paused briefly to mourn the loss of not only my favorite jewelry piece, but also the year I had with Tanner. As much as I despised him now, I had been happy for a brief time. Maybe I had fooled myself in believing that I was truly in love with him, but I couldn’t deny that he had been a welcome distraction from the damage I felt lived inside of me.

I turned my attention back to the cast. After surrounding a green and blue candle with silver coins, I anointed each with cinnamon and bayberry oil. After lighting them, I pictured my mother and her gratitude over receiving an unexpected windfall. I willed money into her bank account while saying, “Sky above and earth below, make my mother’s money grow and grow.” I continued the chant until I felt the familiar rush of power go through me. The candles were to stay lit at the end of the spell until they burned out on their own.

My eyes remain fixed on the flame as I wondered aloud, “How will I know it worked?”

“I expect you’ll hear something tomorrow when you call your mother,” Stella said with such authority that I smiled. A call with good news was most welcomed. Lately, my conversations with my mom had been strained as I tried to hold back tears as we talked about my breakup with Tanner. I hadn’t given her all of the dirty details, but I guessed she had suspected his infidelity. I was relieved that she hadn’t felt the need to gloat and point out that she had warned me to end things with him.

I left the workshop in high spirits. My mother would have cash in her bank account and not have to work overtime to pay the mortgage. Not to mention, I was finally getting out of Chadwick House for a few hours.

I had no idea what type of establishments Mason visited during his nights of debauchery. This made it difficult to settle on my outfit choice. I never been to a bar before and wasn’t sure how much of an effort I should make. Trying too hard may send the message that I wanted more than friendship from Mason. After throwing about every piece of clothing on my bed, I settled on a pair of dark jeans, black heels and a slinky tank top with a cowl neckline. I would have to be conscious about not bending over to prevent giving the patrons a sneak peek of my black lace bra.

At five minutes before ten, I held my heels in my hands as I snuck down the staircase. Every creek sounded amplified and I waited for Stella to rush out of her room and pull me by the ear back to my bedroom. As I quietly closed the front door, I breathed out a sigh of relief.

Mason was waiting at the curb. I climbed into the truck and smiled at him. “My heart is racing. I never had to sneak out before since my mom was usually never home at night.”

“That must have been lonely.”

“No, I had Amber usually to keep me company and then Tanner once we started dating,” I explained. I shook my head to clear my thoughts. Tanner and Amber were the last people in the world I wanted to think about. “What about you? How long have you lived with your aunt?”

“Since I was fourteen,” he replied shortly. His tone suggested the subject was closed.

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-one,” he said before glancing my way. “You look nice.”

“Thank you,” I replied, “but that’s a date-like thing to say.”

“You have a point,” Mason laughed.

He looked hot enough that I was inclined to start fanning myself in the car. His muscles stretched the fabric of his polo shirt and I could see every ripple each time he moved. He was freshly shaven with his hair still damp from a shower. His good looks were certain to attract every available female within the bar. I just hoped he wasn’t planning to pick up a date while I was out with him. Would he ask me to sit in the rear jump seat of the truck’s cab to make room for his one nightstand?

I followed him into the Marksmith once we arrived in front of a mid-sized pub. The bar was about ten minutes from the house and on a street containing several small businesses. The place was crowded, but not to the point where we weren’t able to make our way over to the bar without crashing into a sea of people. He pulled out a stool for me and I hopped up. He sat down next to me and asked me what I wanted to drink.

“Last time I drank, I almost puked all over your aunt’s car,” I reminded him.

“Definitely no hard alcohol for you then,” he affirmed. “I’ll have Mike give you a glass of wine instead.”

I shrugged my shoulders and took a look around as Mason ordered our drinks. I saw a few girls looking at me and sizing me up. I wondered if many of Mason’s conquests frequented the bar. I almost wanted to sock him for his lack of shame. Women shouldn’t be treated in such a disposable way.

“What’s wrong?” he asked handing me a drink.

“I feel a lot of eyes on me,” I confessed. “I’m guessing you come here a lot.”

He let out a frustrated sigh. “I’m not a complete scumbag. I tell the girl exactly how I feel and what I want. What happens is between two consenting adults.”

I made a noncommittal sound and felt Mason’s eyes bore into me as I pivoted around to face away from the bar. I took a sip of the wine and said, “It’s none of my business. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

Mason didn’t reply and was distracted by a couple of twenty-something guys that approached him. He introduced me to his friends. After a couple of minutes of small talk, I tuned out once the guys started talking sports. Mason’s voice cut into my thoughts. “Jake and Dylan want me to play a game of darts, do you want to come?”

No way did I want to be perceived as one of Mason’s groupies. As it was, the boys had paid little attention to me, most likely figuring Mason wouldn’t bother to remember my name, so they didn’t have to make an effort either. “That’s okay, you go ahead. I’ll just finish my drink here.”

Mason looked uncertain, but finally left after I insisted. I nursed my drink until I felt someone approach me from behind. “Hi, I don’t think we met.” The voice was overly bright and the undertone of malice was barely disguised. I wondered if I could just keep my back to the girl and hope she went away.

I inched my body around and did a quick inventory of the girl. It was one of the girls who had been staring at me earlier. She was certainly beautiful and I wondered if Mason questioned his non-involvement policy for her. Her reddish brown hair fell in thick waves down her back. Her complexion was creamy perfection and her dark lashes complemented her hazel eyes. Maybe allowing Mason to leave me unprotected wasn’t a good idea. “I’m Quinn.”

“Never seen you here before. How do you know Mason?” No beating around the bush for this one. She was going straight for the jugular.

“He’s just a friend,” I replied and went to turn away.

She grabbed my arm. “Mason doesn’t have girlfriends. Girl to girl, let me give you some advice. Mason Corey is a player who will treat you like shit as soon as he gets what he wants.”

“Thanks for the advice, but I’m not interested in Mason,” I said and removed her hand from my arm.

Her laugh was mirthless. “Sure, you’re not. I’ve known Mason a long time and you’re exactly his type. Steer clear of him unless you want to end up as another one of his scores.”

I was flabbergasted. Before I could summon an appropriate reply, a voice cut in. “Hey Faye, lay off. Mason just gave her a ride. She’s actually here with me.”

I moved my eyes to the sound of the voice and was met with a kind face. The guy looked about Mason’s age and had an easygoing smile. He grinned at me and reached for my hand. I was too surprised to do anything except hold it.

“Oh.” Faye looked startled by this development. “Sorry Connor, I didn’t know.”

Without any more ammunition to hurl my way, Faye spun on her heels and headed back into the crowd. I smiled at my savoir. “Thanks for that.”

He let go of my hand and laughed. “Faye’s a raging psycho and you’re not the first girl she’s gone after for talking to Mason.”

“Do you know him?”

“Yes. There are two bars in town, so we end up running into each other whenever we both go out,” Connor explained.

As he fell silent, I took a minute to study him. His brown hair fell past his chin and he had a distinct five o’clock shadow. Along with his distressed band t-shirt and frayed jeans, I got a friendly and laidback vibe from him. He was very cute, but I languished over the realization that Mason had invaded my brain in a way that prevented me from feeling anything while looking at Connor.

“So, how do you know Mason?”

“I’m a friend of the family. I’m staying at the Chadwick House for an extended visit.” It had the ring of truthiness to it, so I settled on that for an explanation.

“And what you said about Mason? You’re just friends?” he asked with interest.

“Yes,” I admitted. Maybe some harmless flirting with a cute guy would help me forget all about Mason and his dark good looks.

***

Connor was hilarious. More than once, I had resorted to snorting and was afraid the wine would come squirting out of my nose. He was nice and he had plenty of hilarious stories about his job in a vet’s office. When he moved his stool closer to me so that our legs were touching, I didn’t pull away. He was very polite and I had a feeling he wouldn’t try to maul me in the middle of the bar.

“So, I know you’re not with Mason, but are you dating anyone?”

“No, I just broke up with my boyfriend a few weeks ago,” I said.

As Connor launched into a story about a crazy cat lady, I became aware of his hand resting on my knee. Once he was finished, he leaned in towards me. “I have a confession to make.”