Page 89 of Fresh Old Bounties

I pointed to a small spell written at the end. “Plus a secret ingredient.”

“‘While the sandwich cooks, be sure to center your intentions on sharing the goodness in your life that allowed you this moment of happiness.’” Dru began quoting. “‘If unsure, repeat aloud, I share my love with the universe so that it may touch the recipient’s heart.’” She made gagging noises. “I’m never eating your sandwiches again.”

“Aww, but deep inside, you know you love them.”

“So deep, we’re talking septic tanks.” Dru flicked through the rest of the empty pages. “What about something written in invisible ink?”

“I tried that when I first got the book.”

My smile slowly disappeared as I watched the expanse of white flip back and forth under Dru’s fingers.

I’d had Grandma’s spellbook for six years, and all I’d added were a few affirmations and two spells to it.

My quest to make it the best spellbook in the world wasn’t going as planned. The prospects of achieving my goal within my lifetime were…grim, to say the least. Two spells in six years. If I lived to be ninety, it’d put me at 20 spells, give or take.

But then, I reassured myself, family spellbooks were a group effort. Heirlooms only became so after several generations. My contribution might not seem like a lot now, but there was no quantifying keeping Grandma’s memory and teachings alive, and passing them to whoever came next—my heirs, my children, or even someone like Key.

“It has to be Preston.” Dru closed the spellbook and pushed it toward me.

“You’re obsessed.”

“Shut up.”

“Think about it for a moment. What if it isn’t him? What if he has nothing to do with this and you’re barking up the wrong tree?”

“I’m not wrong.”

“But if you are?”

“Then I’ll figure out what he’s up to some other way. Now, shush.” She brought out her phone and scrolled through her contacts before making a call.

Suddenly, she tensed, her features rearranging into a hard mask complete with an extremely fake smile. “Mom? Hi, sorry to bother you. I know you’re busy.” Her voice had turned so sweet, I was tempted to take a video for blackmail purposes later. “Yes. Yes, of course. Yes, actually…” She drew a circle on the counter. “That’s why I was calling. Yes, I’ve seen him.” Now she looked more pained than anything else. “That’s right, Mom. No, we haven’t talked, but…” She sent a silent prayer to the ceiling. “Do you know where he’s staying? Yes, I know you’ve tried to talk sense into me, Mom. Yes, he’s a catch. He’s still…” A tick developed in her left eye. “He’s single, right? I don’t want to step on anyone’s toes. Yes, I know I’d know if I’d gone to the summer picnic. Mom, please. Mom! Did you really have to go there?”

Judging from Dru’s expression, I’d love to know what there was—she looked like her head was about to explode.

“It’s fine if you don’t want to tell me, Mom,” Dru said in a haughty voice. “I just thought that since you’ve been pushing me so hard to get back together, you’d help me. If you’d rather I go back to George, then I’ll… I see. Yes, thank you.”

She hung up and closed her eyes. Her chest expanded visibly as she took a few deep breaths.

“But we already know where he’s staying,” I ventured.

“He’s not staying there.”

“He’s not?”

“I checked. He was there for a couple of days, then checked out. What’s with that look?” she snapped.

I made a show of drying tears from my eyes. “Look at you, all grown up. Going around spying and trying to break into people’s places all on your own.”

“Hope, I swear to God if you don’t wipe that expression from your face, I’ll punch it in.”

With an effort, I brought my grin back under control. “I assume you tried other hotels?”

“Yes,” she gritted out. “Half of them wouldn’t even confirm if he was staying.”

Probably because expensive places like these were used to strangers trying to nose around famous people. “Perhaps for the best. There is a fine line between spying and stalking. Wouldn’t want to get Officer Brooks involved.”

Dru huffed. “She’d understand.”

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