Page 97 of Extra Witchy

On the way to the coven meeting, her phone rang. “This is Leanne.”

“Ms. Vanderpol-Montgomery?”

Shit, is that—

“This is Dan Rutherford. The mayor’s not taking my calls, and—”

Without an instant of hesitation, she cut the call at once and kept driving. These days, Rutherford was screaming “foul” to anyone who would listen, and he was trying to demand a recount on grounds of “witchcraft.” Little wonder the mayor was disavowing him, as Rutherford had turned into a vocal, screeching conspiracy theorist. To make the situation even funnier, when Leanne got to Margie’s house, she had a text from Mayor Anderson, asking her to play golf.

Leanne laughed as she deleted the message.Nice try, but you can’t make nice now. I’m still coming for you.Whistling cheerfully, she hopped out of the car and let herself in unnoticed. Like the rest of her coven sisters, Margie’s adorable two-bedroom house felt like home.

“Are yousureI can’t learn to do magic?” Hazel was asking Vanessa as Leanne wandered into the coven meeting, ten minutes late now. Tonight she didn’t have wine, and she had a little baby spit-up on her blazer.

“Sorry,” Margie said gently. “That’s not possible.”

Vanessa used that distraction to make a break for it, and she beelined for Leanne, hugging her tight. “You did it, babes.”

“Wedid,” she corrected.

“I have the best news. A gallery in Chicago contacted me about an exhibition, and I can even sell my pieces with accurate descriptions.” Since Vanessa enchanted her pieces as part of the artistic process, this was freaking huge.

Leanne screamed and hauled her bestie into a tight hug. “I am so happy for you! Just tell me when and where. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“So glad I didn’t give up on my dream. Who runs the world?” Vanessa did a happy little wiggle, proving how glad she was that they’d paved the way.

***

“This is not a playdate,” Trev said.

“It counts,” Dante argued.

Trev glanced at the girl lounging on his sofa, tall for her age and elegant in box braids. “Your kid could change my kid’s diapers.”

Evonnie glanced up from her phone. “I’m not doing that.”

He laughed. “It was an example. My point is, you can’t tell Bets that this counts as any kind of social interaction for Evonnie.”

“Leave me out of it,” the girl said, returning to the mobile game she was playing.

Dante sighed. “Fine. But if she asks, we were doing educational activities.”

“You’re not competing with Tyrone. No matter how well he treats Evonnie, he’s not you, okay? Take a breath.”

His friend seemed to appreciate the support, relaxing on the sofa next to his daughter. “What time is Miguel coming over? I can’t believe he’s bringingallhis kids.”

Trev laughed. “Yeah, you can call it a playdate when they get here. I think the older two are around Evonnie’s age.”

The girl perked up. “Are they cool? Why haven’t I met them before now?”

Dante blinked. “I…don’t know. They stay pretty busy. Miguel’s wife keeps the kids in lessons. Dance, swimming, karate. When they’re not in school, they’re learning something else.”

“I’m not doing that to Melanie. I mean, if she says she’s interested, I’ll support her, but I won’t drag her around otherwise. I want her to play with toys and—”

“We get it, Father of the Year.”

Trev quieted, feeling a warm flush on his cheeks. “Was I soapboxing?”

“Little bit. And you’ve only been in the fatherhood game for a few months.”

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