Page 2 of Bewitched By the Headless Horseman
Reese tapped his hand against the table. “I’m debating between black like your dress or the same bright orange of your hair.”
The headless ghost stumbled beside her table, then spun in circles. She didn’t even break her act to look at him.
“Only one choice,” Stevie finally said. To be fair, her favorite color was closer to a mood ring, and she enjoyed a good gothic dress, regardless of the color. But if she had to choose, it would be the orange he’d suspected which was why her hair had been the same color for the past six years.
“Maybe black,” Reese said, taking a sip of his wine. “I’ve heard things about girls who wear lots of black.”
She arched a brow. “What kind of things?”
“Oh shit, scratch that. Apparently, I can’t be suave.” He cringed.
Stevie placed her elbows on the table and steepled her fingers together. “No, do go on. You have my interest piqued.”
“You know”—he cleared his throat—“that they are more adventurous.”
She held back laughter, hoping he wasn’t about to say what she was thinking. “Adventurous with what, Reese?”
He rolled his eyes, his cheeks reddening. “You know … in bed.”
The laughter did come then and she couldn’t stop it, even when it reached hyena levels. “I believe you’re being prejudiced to the other colors.”
“No, no, I didn’t meanyou. Your favorite color is orange.” The red staining Reese’s cheeks grew brighter and she covered her mouth to stop from laughing.
Still smiling, she said, “And what has he won for guessing the answer correctly, Mr. Gameshow Host? This is officially a date.”
“You are—” Reese’s phone dinged, and he fished it out from his pocket. “Fuck. That’s my business partner. I need to meet with him about the convention before he royally screws up something else since he decided to get wasted. Again.” He paused and kept his eyes trained on hers. “Maybe we can finish this official date soon?”
“If you want a part two, then there’ll be a part two.” At least she hoped he wanted to actually meet up again because she definitely did.
“We’ll plan for a part two then. Oh, and Stevie, next timeyou’llhave to guess my favorite color.” Reese smiled brightly and drew out several bills to place on the table.
Stevie watched as he walked away, inwardly sighing that someone put together like him was interested in her. When the waitress brought Stevie the food, she stayed to polish off her meal—the untouched one she would drop off to Lucia.
Once the waitress gave her a to-go box, Stevie gathered her things, then walked by the headless ghost who now sat in one of the chairs at a table beside her. “You got this,” she encouraged.
Stevie’s cell beeped and Lucia was already messaging her.
Wishing you luck that the meeting goes well. You need to get some non-work-action after.
Stevie pinched the bridge of her nose and texted her back with a smile.The only “some” I’ll be getting tonight is some sleep. Reese got called into work, but tell Gideon he got the deal on both things. And by the way, he looks better than his picture by a long shot!
I lied to you. He totally does.
You little witch! Lol.
Cauldron and all.
Anyway, I have food I’m going to drop off soon.
Stevie had known her sister-in-law for most of her life due to her mom’s monthly visits to see Lucia’s aunt Ginger for witchy remedies. Stevie had never been close with Lucia since they’d been six years apart, rarely even said hi to one another. All of that changed when Lucia started dating Gideon and asked Stevie to become a witch’s assistant.
Stevie entered the restaurant and old twangy country music filled the crowded space. The two lovebird ghosts seemed to have taken their peepshow somewhere else.
She descended the wooden staircase, and at the bottom of the steps sat another ghost—a young girl maybe around eleven or twelve with thick white hair covering her face and knees. The girl’s head lay in her hands as she cried. Some establishments didn’t have any dead lingering while others were like a beacon tothem. Even her brother’s store had a resident ghost who’d been there for quite some time.
“I wish I could help you,” Stevie murmured, knowing the ghost wouldn’t hear her.
“No one can help me,” the girl sobbed and stood, then ran through the wall like she was being chased by a wendigo wielding an axe.
