Page 5 of Best Hex Ever
“No, but I think I came on too strong anyway.”
“I find that hard to believe,” Eric retorted. “What did you do, ask for her hand in marriage within five minutes of meeting her?”
“Nothing that bad. I just started talking about how cool nazar amulets are, and I got a little overexcited. She did seem interested too, she was even wearing one—but then I walked out before even getting her name.”
Eric laughed. “If she was into it, then you probably weren’tcoming off too ‘crazy professor.’ This is exciting! You just need to go back there and try again. Maybe make a joke, then ask for a cup of the weirdest, most flower-infested tea they sell. I’m telling you, women love tea with flowers in it, don’t ask me why. That’ll be sure to win her over.”
“I’ll try it next week and let you know how it goes.” They had a long weekend ahead of them, with Eric and Immy’s wedding happening on Sunday.
As they turned the boat around, Eric reached out and squeezed Scott’s shoulder.
“I’m glad you’re finally ready to meet new people. You really had me worried there for a minute, after…you know…”
“You can say her name,” Scott said.
“Well, after Alice. It’s good to see you getting your mojo back.”
“I will pay you fifty pounds to never utter the word ‘mojo’ again.”
“Done and done. Shall we do some sprints to warm back up?”
Scott groaned. Eric loved to torture him with sprints.
Scott made it home an hour or so later, calling his mums to let them know he would be with them before seven tomorrow evening, in preparation for the wedding weekend. It had been too long since he’d been home, and he could hear their dog, Juniper, barking excitedly on the other end of the line every time they said Scott’s name.
He hung his keys on a hook at the door, kicking off his trainers that smelled of river water.
Scott’s footsteps echoed through the mezzanine apartment; the floors were too polished and bare. The whole flat still felt new and foreign. It had come already furnished when he’d rented it, but the furniture was dull and generic and made him feel like he was staying at a hotel.
Wasn’t that the whole reason he’d come back to London—to get away from that “hotel” feeling? He’d been so scattered after the breakup. The pain from being cheated on had overwhelmed him, and all he’d been able to think wasGet out.He’d made a home with Alice, or at least he’d thought he had, and then all of a sudden he’d been unmoored again. Scott had worked in museums all over the world, studied with the most incredible professors and curators, but every night he would go back to whatever hotel or short-term rental he was in and just wait for the night to pass so he could get back to work. For years he’d thrown himself into his travel and studies, but after a while the homesickness was too much to bear. He needed his friends, his family. He wanted…he wanted to love someone again.
This apartment would do for now, but after the wedding he’d start looking for something with some more character. Maybe somewhere a little nearer to his mums, so that he could visit them more often now he was back in the UK. He had missed them both.
At the very least, he needed to buy some rugs—anything would be better than these shiny gray tiles. Maybe some paintings for the walls too, and a pet. A dog would be good—he’d always been more of a dog person, and perhaps he could persuade the museum to let him bring it to work.
Scott had filled the empty shelves with all of his books, which brightened the living room; each of them was a little bit of himself. Scott had even added two of his childhood books on ancient Rome and ancient Egypt to the shelves. They were two of the first books his mums had given him once he’d moved in—two of the first books that he’d owned and hadn’t needed to return to a library—and he’d devoured them. They were probably partly responsible for his whole career choice, now that he thought aboutit.
Scott briefly went out to check the balcony, and saw that all the stale bread he’d left out for the pair of robins he’d seen two days ago had been eaten. He put a few more crumbs into a bowl for them and resolved to buy a bird feeder.
After inhaling a quick dinner and standing in the shower for as long as it took to ease his sore muscles, he slumped into bed. His dreams were filled with the barista’s face, and the scent of Earl Grey tea.
Chapter 3
The evil eye pendant falling to the floor had only been the start of it. As morning turned into afternoon, Dina had found herself surrounded by bad omens on all sides.
A customer had opened their umbrella while still inside the shop, then Dina had accidentally knocked over the salt as she was clearing a table. With the pendant, that made three omens in one day. The last time Dina had had this many bad omens in a day she’d failed her driving test. Though that was possibly more to do with the fact that big machines and magical beings don’t tend to pair well together.
The face of the man from this morning kept popping into her head, almost unbidden. The way his smile had been a little lopsided, the way his eyes had burned into hers when he’d asked about the evil eye amulet. Clearly, she’d been reading some kind of flirtation into the encounter, when he was probably just one of those nerdy hot-professor types who made women swoon wherever they went. She wasn’t swooning though, was she?
Shaking her head, Dina realized she needed to get this man out of her mind and do something about all the weird magical energy in the café this afternoon. She texted her mother, Nour. She replied almost immediately, as if she had anticipated Dina’s message, which she probably had since she was a divination witch. Cleansing spells were an important part of her mother’sdivination, so Dina always asked her for tips when it came to this kind of thing. In fact, Dina asked her mother for witchy tips about everything…well, almost everything.
Nour instructed Dina to burn some sage. Not wanting to set off the fire alarm, she decided to add a little of the sage oil she’d made last autumn to the cleaning spray she used, making the entire shop smell like a fragrant herb garden.
Dina made use of the peaceful afternoon crowd of readers quietly sipping her hallowed hot chocolates (the marshmallows were in the shape of small ghost pumpkins) as they escaped into a good book, to head outside into the crisp air and add a few new items to her chalkboard menu on the pavement.
Pulling out a stick of lilac chalk, Dina added “besotted briouats” to the list, followed by “rosy-cheeked ghriba.” The briouats—melt-in-your-mouth filo pastry filled with honey and almonds—were heavenly, even without the spell that made you feel like you’d been kissed on the forehead by a loved one. The ghriba, decadently soft sugar cookies with rosewater essence and lemon zest, were laced with a spell to warm up the fingers and toes.
About an hour before closing, Immy and Rosemary—Dina’s closest friends and the nearest things she had to sisters—swished into the shop, each carrying several bags of books from the bookshop around the corner.
