Page 66 of The Witch is Back

“Did she say anything about me?” Emma asked him, referring to Clarissa. She’d so far heard nothing from her mother, which could either be a good sign or a sign of impending doom.

Kole tipped his beer back, took a swallow. “She asked me if I’d spoken to you. I said I’d told you about the Exhibition.” He hesitated.

Emma’s stomach sank. “She wants me to go over to the manor, doesn’t she?”

“I can stall her, Em.” He nudged her shin with his foot. “Don’t stress. But I would practice because Clarissa can only be stalled so long, and she will want to inspect you at some point.” He grimaced in sympathy.

“Okay, I have to meet this person,” Leah said, leaning on the bar.

“No,” Emma and Kole said together, horror uniting their voices.

“C’mon, this chick can’t be that tough.”

Kole snorted. “Chick,” he repeated, shaking his head. “Yeah, you’re not meeting her.”

Leah opened her mouth to retort, then raised her head at a shout down the bar. She nipped off to fill an order.

“So,” Kole said, swiveling to face Emma more. “How is your soon-to-be ball and chain? Has he explained why he ran away?”

Emma summed up her thoughts about that question with a speaking look.

“I’m just asking.”

“He’s good. We’re fine.” She toyed with the idea of telling Kole he was sleeping on her couch, but she wasn’t sure how the brother in him would react to that. “We’re taking the time to try and be friends again.” Or something. Guilt made her hunch her shoulders. Friends didn’t keep secrets like the ones she was.

“Again?” Kole tapped his beer with a finger. “Like before when you used to follow him around and lap up any attention he threw your way?”

Stung, Emma frowned. “It wasn’t always like that.”

“Maybe, but that’s what it looked like. So?”

“No.” Emma’s frown deepened when Kole looked far from convinced. “I’m serious. I don’t kowtow to him now.”

“Just be careful. You’re not telling him about Sloane, either, right?”

Emma used her magic to flick him between his eyebrows. It was something she’d got really good at when she was younger. You know, because of all the practice.

She felt a poke in her side a second later, right where she was ticklish, and almost fell off the stool.

But at least he was grinning again. “All right, I get the hint. I trust you,” he said. “For now. But he’ll have to meet big brother at some point.”

“Sure.” Like way, way in the future.

Fortunately, Kole stayed long enough to chat with Leah and flirt with a couple early drinkers who approached the bar with swinging hips, but not long enough to bump into Bastian, who was early for his shift.

Unnecessary since Mondays were never a busy late crowd. Of course, there were the high-powered lawyers and bankers and stockbrokers—fill in your high paying job with stress up the wazoo here—who quit their jobs late and came in to throw back a drink or five, but on the whole, Bastian had plenty of time to spend with her. Especially since Leah was handling most of the clientele, leaving the two of them to a private conversation as she flirted for tips.

They’d started with the basics—Bastian had asked her what particular gifts she had.

Which were pretty much slim to none. She had a touch of telekinesis, an affinity with plants and she made a decent potion. None of which was going to wow the snobbish society dames and their sneering daughters. She didn’t point that out. She didn’t need to. Bastian had grown up there, too.

“I know it’s not much.” Emma flicked her fingers at a beer mat, sent it spinning.

It spun, reversed, then spun the other way again, up and up and up, until it was pirouetting like a ballet dancer.

“Show-off.”

His smile made her glad she and her weak knees were perched on one of the bar stools. “I only do the best tricks for the pretty ladies.”