Page 32 of Hot & Bothered

“I believe you.”

They said goodbye, and she did the best she could to put this morning out of her head.

It didn’t help that the cards she pulled for her and Jace that morning were ominous at best. She pulled the Nine of Swords for herself, which was a sign that life might be getting challenging. Sleepless nights, mental suffering and constant worry could be ahead and affect her quality of life.

Jace’s card greatly disturbed him, too. It was the Seven of Swords—again.

Just like in his reading, when she pulled ten cards for him, he took it as a sign of bad things to come, and he wasn’t wrong.

In less than fifteen minutes, she finished her chocolate bar.

A knock at her door made her jump.

Rayma poked her head in, a Starbucks cup in each hand. “Thought you might need some caffeine.”

“You’re a true angel, Rayma Lassiter,” Peyton said with a sigh.

Rayma lifted her brows in curiosity and sashayed into Peyton’s office handing Peyton her chai latte, then she plunked herself down in the chair opposite Peyton’s desk. “Spill.”

So Peyton spilled. Every gritty detail. Including the tarot cards, how she felt about Bronwyn and her worry about Jace and Bronwynreconnecting.

It was cathartic to get it all off her chest, but also painful. She also felt a little stupid when she said it out loud because some of it was petty and childish.

“Feel better?” Rayma asked, having listened in contemplative silence the entire time Peyton prattled on.

Peyton exhaled and nodded. “Yes. Thank you.”

“Good. Now, was that just a vent, or do you want advice?”

“Advice,” Peyton said without hesitation.

“Okay. Stop thinking about Jace and Bronwyn. That’s dumb and high school. He is fucking crazy about you, and she was just batshit crazy. He’s never going back to her. If he does, I’ll beat him over the head with a cast iron frying pan, then dance my way to jail because of it. Trust me, that relationship was toxic. She’s a narcissist and extremely jealous. She didn’t even like Jace coming over to our house because I was there. Like, what the fuck?”

“Okay.”

“Secondly, I will call Heath as soon as this conversation is over and we’ll figure out what happened to Michaela. At the very least give Tiberius some closure.”

“Thank you.”

“And thirdly, maybe cool it with the tarot cards for a bit, hmm? I’m not saying stop them, but just … cool it until this shit all blows over. They’re just getting you more frazzled than you need to be. You keep looking for meaning in them.”

“But I pulled the Nine of Swords!”

“Okay. I have no idea what that means. And for all I know, I could have pulled the death card today in a parallel universe where I pull tarot cards. Doesn’t mean I’m going to die, does it?”

“No, the death card doesn’t actually mean you’re going to die, it mean—”

Rayma held up her palm, a look of mild irritation on her face. “Shut up. Don’t know. Don’t care.”

“Sorry.”

Rayma’s brown eyes softened. “Just take a break from the cards for a few days. Maybe a week.”

Peyton exhaled and nodded slowly, staring at her lap like a chastised child. “I’ll try.”

“On a happier note, I found a home for your little guy. Rowan, the FASD kid.”

Peyton’s gaze shot back to her friend’s face.

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