Page 31 of Magic of the Damned

Cameron enjoyed them, too. Maybe it was the music or the reduced-price wine or a combination of both, but the income she lost on wine, she made up for in book sales. Buzzed book buying was more lucrative than I ever imagined.

“I’m not Emoni’s manager. Just ask her. She’s not shy about declining things when she’s not interested.”

“I know, but I’m the owner and she might feel obligated to say yes just to appease me. I don’t want her to do that.”

“No.”

Her eyes widened.

“See, I have no problem telling you no. Do you think Emoni is any less likely to do so?” I teased. Giving her arm a gentle squeeze, I told her I’d ask and headed off to help out a woman who looked as if she was searching the store for an employee. I looked over my shoulder at Cameron. “She’s going to say yes. You’re giving her an opportunity to do two things she’ll never admit she loves: coffee house music and performing covers.”

When Emoni arrived at work a couple of hours later, I was unsettled by Anand’s presence at the counter. He was studying the pastries on display. Had he anticipated my move, heard our conversation, read our lips?

Anand and I hadn’t spoken since he gave me his disturbing advice. He’d been inconspicuous in the store. Occasionally I got a glimpse of him leaving or moving but never knew when he had returned or how he managed to get close to me. When I saw him, it felt like he was allowing it. It was as if he faded into the nonexistent shadows of the store. Disappeared. I wasn’t convinced he didn’t. Employees typically commented on people who lingered in the store, but no one seemed to notice his presence.

As I eased my way closer to the side of the counter to talk to Emoni, I was staring at Anand until she cleared her throat.

“He’s new around here,” Emoni said. “He likes his coffee black,” she whispered. Her eyes slowly traveled over him.

“You really need a more interesting kink because the no-sugar no-cream thing is weird. And not in the quirky way that people find adorable. It’s just weird.” I wasn’t fooled by what drew her interest to Anand. If he poured out half his coffee and filled it with cream and added tablespoons of sugar until he was having a little coffee with his sugar and cream, her interest wouldn’t have dwindled. Reluctantly pulling her eyes from him, she reached over the counter and nudged me playfully.

“What question from Cameron brings you to my little hub?”

“What makes you think I’m here on her behalf?” I asked.

Anand’s migration to a seat in the corner tugged at Emoni’s attention before it moved to the door that separated the coffee shop from the bookstore. Cameron had passed by, giving us a tight, overly wide smile and an odd finger wave.

“I feel like I’m Batman and she’s devising a plan to destroy me and Gotham City,” Emoni noted, waving at Cameron, who attempted to busy herself with the display, failing miserably at discreetly watching us.

“Reese cancelled this Thursday and you know how important Wine-Down Thursdays are to her.”

“And it’s great for business, too.”

“That too,” I admitted “She wants to know if you could fill in for him.”

“Of course I’ll do it. Maybe Gus will join me.”

“Maybe? You wouldn’t completely get the invitation out before he agreed. And you can stop with the eyerolls. I’m not wrong.” I wasn’t, despite Emoni wanting me to be. He loved performing as much as Emoni did, and the extra time with her would be a bonus for him.

To put Cameron out of her misery and ease the tight Joker smile, I nodded. She noticeably relaxed. We knew how important the store was to her; over the years it had its struggles and there was a period when it was at risk of closing down. With the addition of the coffee shop, events, and introduction of the wine bar, she’d saved the business. I chatted with Emoni a while longer, hoping Reginald would reply to the text I’d sent him earlier, so I could stop by his office before returning to work. He hadn’t responded.

Suspecting that he might have missed the message, I went by his office. The door was closed and I heard voices, which was probably why I hadn’t heard from him.

When I returned to the store, Anand was seated in the corner that Peter usually claimed. It earned him a glare from Peter when he arrived. Anand dismissed Peter’s overtly dirty look and passive-aggressive attempts to crowd him out as they shared the table. Peter covered the table with too many books and slouched in his chair, swallowing up the space underneath the table with his long legs. I passed the table several times, finding Peter making attempts to “history” Anand away. They were having spirited debates, and Anand’s detailed knowledge made his contributions sound like firsthand accounts. It was a slow day and I found entertainment in the simplicity of Peter’s pettiness. It was rather humanizing. He was territorial, irrational, and trivial—like us average joes. Peter finally gave up, shooting Anand a searing look before he found another spot at the back of the store.

“I feel like I should bring you a cookie or something. Give you the title of Dethroner of the King of the Round Table,” I said.

Anand was kind enough to reward my bad joke with a halfhearted smile. After Anand relinquished his claim on the table, I spent the remainder of my day playing my version of Where’s Waldo with him.

CHAPTER 10

Reginald had free time at three thirty. I’d given up on keeping up with Anand’s whereabouts, and when he allowed himself to be discovered, I told him about the meeting, ignoring his frown of disapproval.

Although pessimistic that Reginald and his coven could help, I found some comfort in having a companion in this adventure we were unwillingly thrust into. I was pleased to be able to speak with him, even if for no other reason than to vent. How much do I tell him? Everything? Do I go full-throttle? Will he even believe me? I was living it yet several times I found myself waiting to wake from this magical realism.

Reginald’s hollow look of confusion surprised and unsettled me when I suggested he speak to his coven about what had happened with the book.

“I told you about my coven?” His brows inched together in disbelief. Leaning back in his chair, he looked even more perplexed as I recounted his visit to my apartment after the book debacle.

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