Page 45 of Who Pissed Off Ivy Dell?

“I am.” I sip my coffee. “But I might quit my job.”

“Noooo. To do what?”

“I don’t know yet. Maybe I’ll make soap. Or candles.”

“You came all the way to the desert to become a beach hippie?”

“There are desert hippies, too.”

“Please tell me you’re not quitting as soon as you get home.”

“No. I’m going to start using up my vacation days, though. I should’ve done that to come here instead of trying to work. Might’ve cleared my head sooner.”

“I figured you’d be taking some vacation time to see Stinger’s winery location and help him get that underway.”

“I’ll help if he asks. But it’s his venture, not mine.”

“I’m not sure he thinks of it that way. Besides, I could totally see you working in a winery.”

“He has to build it first. Who knows where we’ll be by then.”

“You could ask your psychic neighbors.”

“No, thank you. Do you want to ask them something?”

“Oh, I already have an appointment tomorrow evening at five.”

“Of course you do. Do you think you’ll see Dice after you leave here?”

“I doubt it. He’s thinking about moving to Miami.”

“You like the beach.”

“And I like men who are temporary.”

“That’s how I used to like them, too.”

“Yeah, but only because you’d had your heart broken. I’ve always preferred them that way.”

A car engine sputters out front. “I wonder if that’s someone showing up for the festival?”

“I think it’s probably Dice heading out.”

“Did you leave him asleep in your bed to come over here?”

“He’s a grown man. He can find his way home. What was I supposed to do, wake him up and cook him breakfast? Please.”

I laugh at how matter-of-factly she states her case. She sees the world exactly as it is. No illusions.

Sometimes, I think I’ve always been drawn to magical thinking, but other times, I think I’ve been too afraid to embrace it. According to Petra, my father was a lousy magician, but he pursued it anyway. The ordinary magic of the world wasn’t enough for him, but he couldn’t see that he wasn’t really a showman. I think he was probably just a very tall but very small man in most regards. Maybe he still is.

Nothing is ever enough for people like that. They’re always trying to prove themselves.

I don’t feel like I have anything to prove, but I do want a little more magic in my life. The real kind. No illusions.

Cujo’s bike starts up next door and rattles my teeth. I can tell by the direction the sound fades into that he’s headed for the gate to help Jensen.

Josephine walks over. “I thought I heard y’all out here. Are you ready for the craziness of the festival?”

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