Page 1 of Extra Witchy

Chapter 1

Leanne Vanderpol got the call she most didn’t want in the middle of a meeting she would’ve preferred not to attend.

Once again, the deputy mayor had off-loaded his responsibilities to her with an unctuous smile. Strictly speaking,shewasn’t obligated to attend, but someone from the mayor’s office had to, and those assholes had slacking down to a fine art, usually executed under the guise of “important business.” Since she’d be responsible for writing the press release anyway—to cover Mayor Anderson’s behind when he refused to fund the center’s current proposal—it seemed like the lesser of two evils to get firsthand impressions without relying on someone else.

When she took this job, she’d thought it was the best way to make the world a better place without braving an election, but the longer she worked in politics, the more she realized she needed to get her ass in gear. Unmarried women often had a hard time getting elected, and since she was twice divorced, it would be even tougher for Leanne. She could imagine the smear campaign now:

She can’t even commit to one man. How can you trust her to do what’s right for you?

If a potential husband dropped out of the sky, that would be awesome, preferably one who stuck around until she got a seat on the city council. If she had to attend these meetings, her voice should matter, right? She wished she could approve the funding for the community center herself, but in her current role, she lacked the power to make any lasting changes.

With a sigh, she stared at her vibrating phone and tiptoed out the back—not easy in a pair of designer heels. She didn’t let the backs touch the floor until she pulled the door gently closed behind her. At least the lights had been dimmed in the middle of the presentation, providing cover for her exit. Her mother wasn’t the type to give up, so she’d keep calling until Leanne answered. She took a few more steps away from the conference room then picked up.

“What’s up?” she asked.

“What time will be you home?”

Based on precedent, the question sent cold chills down her spine. “Why?”

“Hurry back! I’m making margaritas!”

Those prescient shivers ripened into full-on foreboding, and she raised her eyes to the ceiling that bore an ominous water stain in the shape of a turkey leg. The mayor really did need to allot more funds for community use, not that doing the right thing ever pinged on his radar. This center had seen better days, and the lighting was shit. On the other end of the call, a blender whirred in the background.

Leanne counted to ten, wishing she had a normal witch for a mother.Danica’s mom enjoys gardening. I betshenever spent the summer following Phish in a van with a guy named Noodles.The only good aspects of that? Leanne had been left to her own devices when she was old enough to manage, and her mom didn’t marry Noodles.

“You’re in my kitchen, aren’t you?”

Sunshine and cheer sparkled across the line. If there was a project glitter spell, her mom would be casting it. “I landed three hours ago! Wanted to surprise you.”

Surprisewas one word that could apply to her mother’s unexpected arrival, but not the one Leanne had in mind. “We’ve talked about this. Boundaries, remember? Popping in isn’t—”

“They’re mango margaritas!” her mom cut in.

For this interruption, Leanne was missing the main point of the meeting she shouldn’t have agreed to attend. “It’s two in the afternoon.”

“It’s booze o’clock somewhere.”

Leanne sighed. There was no point in trying to reason with Juniper “Junie” Vanderpol. She’d never get Junie to understand that Leanne had an actual career, not just a place where she showed up to occasionally earn cash to pay the rent. Junie preferred living as the spirit moved her; Leanne’s middle name had been “Moonbeam,” though she’d legally dropped it down to a mysteriousMwhen she reverted to her maiden name after her first marriage. People could do that free of charge during divorce proceedings, no separate name-change decree required.

“I’ll be home around five,” she said. “I’ll have a drink with you, thenI’mgoing out. If you’d called ahead, you would know my coven’s having a party tonight.”

“Sounds fun…” The wistful tone came across crystal clear.

Leanne knew her mother was angling for an invite, and she’d be damned if she added that much chaos to an occasion that already might blow sky-high. Between Danica and Clem, the coven had as much tension as it could hold. They didn’t need Junie adding her special brand of spontaneity to the mix.

“I’m sure it will be,” she said briskly.

She swallowed the rest of her words.You’re my mother. We’renotbesties.That wasn’t how Junie had raised Leanne, however. She had been twenty when she chose to get pregnant, twenty-one when she had Leanne, and she’d raised her as if they were friends who cohabitated. There were never any rules—Leanne ate cookies for breakfast, cereal for dinner, or whatever she could find, and there was always another handsome man promising Junie the sun and stars. More often than not, she’d believed them, and she had been married six times. Oddly, the one person Junie hadn’t married was Leanne’s father; Leanne had never met the man, as far as she could recall, though there had been so many “uncles” that she was sick of the word.

“See you later,” Junie said, some of the brightness seeping out of her voice.

Leanne cut the call, wishing she could siphon away the insidious guilt as easily. It was easy to tell that her mom was lonely, but it wasn’t Leanne’s fault that she’d lived like a nomad, never putting down roots. Unlike her mother, Leanne hadchosenSt. Claire after doing significant research on the place and finding a coven that fit her. She’d moved here intentionally after college, selected this as her home, and never regretted that decision. If Mom wanted to live in St. Claire, she could find a place here, but she couldn’t burst into Leanne’s life and expect everything to work out long-term.

Quietly, she crept back into the meeting in time to hear the main point. Unfortunately, all eyes locked onto her as she returned to her chair. Lorraine Talbot, the director of the community center, seemed particularly perturbed that Leanne had ducked out. Lorraine frowned so hard that her eyebrows touched, her rust-lipsticked mouth compressed in a firm line. The color didn’t suit her even slightly, rendering her freckled complexion sallow.

“We were under the impression the mayor’s office takes our concerns seriously,” she snapped, skewering Leanne with a gimlet stare.

Damn Deputy Mayor Dudley. I’m not even meant to be here. This day sucks.

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