Page 11 of De-Witched

“It’s coming down hard,” she announced to her friends when she was close enough.

Tia leaned on the walnut bar that ran the length of the thirty-foot space, where she’d been chatting with their third business partner, Emma, who perched on one of the cushioned barstools. They both smiled in acknowledgment.

To look at them, nobody would connect them as business partners, let alone friends.

Tia Hightower was a witch with capital C confidence, a born leader, no matter that she was currently acting as bartender while they searched for someone to fill the again-empty position. Even though it wasn’t a suit, the coral jeans and cream crop tee that set off her brown skin gorgeously did nothing to dim her power. She never had to worry about fitting in as her family made the rules and pretty much did whatever the hell she wanted.

Emma Bluewater, on the other hand, was practical to the bone, though she did take some risks, and made worrying about Leah one of her primary tasks. Like Tia, she came from a Higher witch family, but unlike Tia, her family lived on the fringes and witch society had never let her forget it. It was why she could be painfully shy with new people, even when her personality tended toward dry humor.

Leah bet her cautious friend had never imagined running a bar. Toil and Trouble had been Leah’s idea, providing Emma with a steady job after she’d abandoned New Orleans for Chicago eight years ago, while also cementing the bonds between all three.

And okay, after they’d spilled the big secret, she’d thought opening a cocktail bar with them might bring a little magic into her own life.

Leah plopped onto a neighboring stool now and used one of the paper napkins out of the nearby dispenser to soak up the worst of the wet. “I lost track of time at the shelter,” she said, squeezing her hair into the tissue, “taking photos of the new residents for the website, playing with some of the seniors. Before I knew it, it was cats and dogs outside, too.” And the animal shelter where she volunteered was a good twenty, thirty-minute hustle. It hadn’t taken two minutes before even her underwear was soaked.

“How’s the place doing? Sorry I haven’t been by for a while.” Emma winced, offering, “Bastian and I took Sloane to Germany for a few days.”

“Oh, yeah? She have fun?”

“She and Bastian did something called the Sachertorte challenge.”

“How much did she throw up?”

“What happens in Germany stays in Germany.”

Leah grinned. “Wise. And don’t worry about the shelter. We’re fine. I mean, Sonny’s moaned about the bills a bit, but I’m sure it’s just a rough patch.” She waved that away. “Okay, I need you to tell it to me straight.” She took a breath. “What’s the hair situation?”

Tia and Emma exchanged a look.

“That bad?”

“It’s got volume,” Emma offered. Tia snorted.

That was Leah’s hair cross to bear—when wet, her curls expanded like nobody’s business.

Philosophically, she discarded the wet napkin and pledged not to look in any mirrors. “So, where is the old soon-to-be ball and chain?”

Emma lifted the latte that sat on the bar. One hell of a rock in a platinum setting sparkled on her hand. Leah drooled just looking at it. “He’s with a friend.”

Tia grumbled, dark eyes flashing.

Emma ignored her. “He and Henry are apartment hunting since we want a bigger place than my shoebox.”

“You want me to ask my mom? She knows everyone; she might know some nice places.”

“Your mom’s idea of nice and mine are probably a little different.”

Leah made a pshaw sound. “Please, we’re not that rich. I’ve seen Bastian’s parents’ house now, remember? Talk about Daddy Warlock with the Warbucks.”

“Stop.” At the mention of magic, Emma’s eyes grew rabbity.

Leah chucked her under the chin but relented. “Best behavior. Promise.”

“Hmm.”

They passed the time discussing the future wedding, not that there was much to plan since Emma and Bastian had already gone through the motions the year before. Back then, Emma had looked caged. Now, whenever Bastian’s name came up, she got the gooey look. After all the shit they’d gone through, God knew her friend deserved it.

And it gave Leah hope that maybe she’d one day find a good guy of her own, as opposed to her last date, who’d brought his mother and aunt along to vet her.

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