Page 7 of Just A Little Magic

“Maybe I am?” Owen asked with a laugh. “Maybe I’m not one at all, and it’s a giant conspiracy.”

“Babe, you gonna blackmail me? You already know all my secrets.”

Owen looked thoughtfully out the window. The pine trees whizzed by in a complete blur as we drove higher into the mountains. It was too early for snow, so the ski runs were covered in Alpine grass. The meadows still had their late-summer wildflowers. The scenery on the way to the lodge was gorgeous, but I didn’t think it was quite as fascinating as Owen pretended.

“I don’t know all of them,” he finally responded. “Who are you dating? I haven’t heard anything about them.”

“That’s because I’m not dating anyone.”

“C’mon. You go to the club all the time. You have to be hooking up with someone.”

“First off, shitting where you eat is a bad plan.” I ignored his gagging noises. “Second, I’ve had my eye on someone, but he doesn’t seem interested in me.”

“Ooh, I knew it. Is it someone I know? Is it someone I like?”

“I don’t want to jinx it. If I say it aloud, the universe will shut me down.”

“That’s not how it works. You have to manifest it.”

“I can manifest that shit in my head. When I make a move on him, you’ll be the first to know.”

Owen’s laughter was definitely forced this time. It wasn’t the biggest hint, but it was at leastsomething.

“You haven’t mentioned seeing someone. Are you?”

“You know I’m not,” Owen scoffed. “If I was, you’d know about it.”

“Are youinterestedin someone?”

My question was met with complete silence. I peeked athim from the corner of my eye. A flush had worked its way up his neck.

“How will it work with the lodge being so far away from the other places you have?” Owen asked as he glanced through the portfolio my assistant put together.

“Yeah, that’s a real concern. It’s been…what? Two hours? With traffic, it could add on another hour. In the wintertime, would it be too difficult? They do a good job of keeping the roads clear, and, of course, they have other lodges up here, but will it work with our systems? I don’t know yet.”

“The bones look good, and the structural engineering report was pretty decent.” Owen flipped through a few pages of photos. “This place was lost in the eighties. Has it ever been updated?”

Owen hooted in laughter while he cataloged the design sins of the 1980s. “It’s so bright! How did they find a neon-pink couch? And how did they find so many of them? It hurts my heart.”

I would show Owen nonstop photos of ugly furniture if it meant I heard his real laugh. “C’mon, look at those lines! Look at those mirrors. They are totally…tubely?” I knew that wasn’t the right word, but it was as close as I could remember.

“Tubular! What does it even mean?” Owen snorted.

“Beats the fuck out of me. How many neon colors are enough? There can’t be a limit to that. We should just keep all the furniture and call it a day. We can advertise as a time machine,” I said with a cackle.

“Done. Call it the Totally Rad Like Awesome Dude Ski Lodge.”

“Oh, I see why you’re the designer and not the…errr, namer.”

“Namer? Really? Yikes to the max. My suggestion is like totally rad.” Owen sounded ready to throw down for his name choice.

“There’s no way we can fit that on a sign. It has to be shorter. How about Mullett Mountain? Legwarmer Junction?” Mine were naming gold and way better than his clunky suggestion.

“You can’t just name it after random trends. Pink couches and mirrors won’t be captured without an equally sweet name,” Owen said with a pout.

“Sweet? Babe, I’m pretty sure that’s from the nineties.”

“Dude,I’mfrom the nineties.”

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