Page 5 of Mochas and Minotaurs

“At least we’re both on the same page about not selling the place. And that fake homeless guy the land developers sent stays a little farther away now with all the people going in and out.”

“I thought the gym wasn’t opened yet,” Lily said.

“It isn’t. The grand opening isn’t for at least a few weeks.” The day after my visit, contractors came early in the morning to start renovations. All the built-in bookshelves of Ever After Books had come out, as did the walls between the old bookstore and Grandma Evy’s Attic.

According to the chitchat I heard while the contractors lined up for their cuppa joe, they’d only been hired to do the groundwork. Marcus and his friend wanted to do the majority of it themselves, and it would take a while on account of the size of the space.

“Forget about him,” I said. “Are we still up for Saturday?”

Since Penny moved here to join us, our little coven of three made an effort to see each other every weekend. It was a ritual now. The Witch’s Brew closed early on the weekends, 3 p.m. to be exact. We met at six or seven, either here at my place or at the new luxury condo Penny shared with her incubus mate, before deciding what to do for the rest of the evening. Sometimes we visited Delirium, the nightclub owned by Prax’s friend, also an incubus, and sometimes we headed to the Howling Wolf. Other times we just stayed in and played with magic.

“Sure are,” Penny said. “There’s this new spell going around the Let’s Talk About Hex forum, and I—”

Lily and I both groaned.

“The last time you tried an online spell, you summoned a troll from another dimension,” I reminded her.

“And a half-crazed wolf shifter,” Lily said.

“And an evil wizard with goblin henchmen,” I added.

There was the sound of throat clearing before Prax showed up on screen. “And me. Don’t forget me. She summoned me.Imake it all worthwhile.”

“You sure do!” Penny pulled Prax in for a kiss and the screen practically shimmered with magic.

“We’ll figure it out on Saturday. We always do,” Lily said. “Your place this time?”

“Yup,” I agreed.

The rattling from my kitchen revealed Triscuit repeatedly trying to open the child-locked cabinets.

“I gotta go,” I said. “The birb baby is hungry, and if I don’t feed him now he’s liable to tear down my home.”

“I still say Triscuit is too big to be a birb with two B’s,” Penny said. “Birbs are supposed to be small, round, and cute.”

“He’s small enough! And birbs don’t need to be round. And cute is subjective. Triscuit is cute enough in my books.”

Having recognized the word and his name and fully knowing we were talking about him, Triscuit shouted, “Triscuit wanna biscuit!” at the top of his little lungs.

“Cute and hungry,” I clarified.

I hung up and made a quick dinner for my feathered friend, which was mostly pelleted food supplemented with vegetables, sprouted seeds, fruits, and a few nuts as treats. Triscuit proceeded to dig into his meal, making a big mess as he always did.

I sighed at the sounds of many little pellets hitting the floor. Bird mom problems. That was what handheld vacuums were for. I’d gone through so many of them that I was tempted to start a review channel just for vacuums. I totally should.

With that out of the way, I sat at the table and microwaved some leftover pasta for myself. Many people, upon finding out that I owned a coffee shop, erroneously concluded that I was also a good cook. I didn’t know why they related the two, but it wasn’t true. Yes, Icouldcook. And I could bake, too, but it didn’t mean I enjoyed it or was good at it. I specialized in beans only. And even then, only the drinkable kind.

People coming into the Witch’s Brew usually assumed the pastries were made in-house, even though it was written right there on the sign that they came from For Goodness Bakes, a witch-owned and operated bakery on the other side of town.

Which reminded me… I picked up my phone and called the number to For Goodness Bakes. Nina picked up after four rings.

“Hey, Griselda, how can I help you?”

“I’m going to need to change up the order for the next little while,” I said. “Business has been slow lately.”

I felt bad springing this on her, but as another business owner, she understood. By the end of the call, we’d worked out a new agreement for the next few weeks. I finished my food and then quickly cleaned up after Triscuit before putting him to bed, tossing his favorite blanket over his cage.

Then I grabbed the basket with my latest crochet project and my purse, threw on my super warm, polar fleece bat wing robe, slipped into my fuzzy slippers, and stepped out into the stairway. Instead of going to the coffee shop, I headed up to the rooftop patio.

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