"You think you're funny," she said, glaring at him.
"I try," Jacob said. "But seriously, is there anywhere around here we can order from? I don't want to put you out."
"Technically, the pizza place delivers out here," Beatrix said. "But you have to bribe them. And it's not worth it for soggy, cold pizza."
"Then I gratefully accept whatever you're offering," Jacob smiled. "You do eat regular food, right? I mean, because you're a..."
"Witch?" Beatrix supplied. "What, do you think I eat eye of newt soup or maybe real baby back ribs? Seriously?"
"Sorry," Jacob said quickly. "Stupid question, I—"
"It's okay," Beatrix said, suddenly feeling guilty. "This is all new to you." She led him back to her serene living room, and what she saw made her stop and laugh out loud.
"What's so—" Jacob began. "Oh. Prada, really?"
Gumbo's huge dog bed was in its usual place next to the sofa, but Gumbo was sitting on the ground next to it, his chin resting on his enormous paws. In the middle of his bed was Prada, who looked strangely pleased with herself.
"Been evicted, have you, buddy?" Beatrix said, leaning down to scratch between his ears. "Figures, property developers coming in here and turning you out of your own bed."
"Hey, I'm hardly responsible for this!" Jacob complained, but he was smiling too.
"She's your dog," Beatrix pointed out.
"Well, technically," Jacob sighed. "I mean, she belonged to an ex-girlfriend. I think Ava bought her because she got lots of likes on PhotoGram, but she wasn't really a dog person, I guess. When we broke up, she left her at my place, and I... Well, Prada has been mine since then."
"Oh," Beatrix said quietly. She had wondered why Jacob had such a very tiny dog with such a ridiculous name. Prada didn't seem like the sort of dog a man like Jacob would buy for himself. Then again, she supposed that she didn't seem like the kind of person who'd own a dog the size of Gumbo. "That was...nice of you." And it was, too. Most people would dump an ex's dog at the shelter and never think about them again.
"For an evil property developer?" Jacob said, a grin quirking his lips. He had nice lips, Beatrix thought. Maybe he was one of the few men smart enough to use lip balm, or at least a decent moisturiser. She mentally shook herself. Why the hell was she thinking about his lips?
"Don't think it gets you off the hook," Beatrix said, crossing to the kitchen and examining the contents of the refrigerator. "Even Hitler liked dogs."
Jacob laughed out loud. "Bloody hell!" he chuckled. "I'm getting compared to Hitler? What is it about property developers that makes you so angry? I mean, okay, I know we've got a bad reputation. And there are some assholes out there who don't give a crap about the community or their tenants. Companies that put up cheap apartments that look great but start to fall apart in a couple of years. But do you seriously think we're all like that?"
Beatrix turned to him then, standing in the cold air of the fridge, which was a good thing because her cheeks had flushed pink. "I..." she began and had to look away. She couldn't look at those earnest, friendly green eyes right now. "I don't really know what you had in mind," she mumbled finally.
"I did want to tell you," Jacob said quietly, but not maliciously. "But, uh, you didn't seem very keen on that."
"I thought you were just hitting on me," Beatrix said, raising her eyebrows.
"Oh, I was doing that too," Jacob said, totally unabashed. He smirked, and Beatrix rolled her eyes.
"Well, if you really want to convince me you're not evil," she said. "Come and help peel these potatoes. I'm thinking South-West skillet with eggs and steak. You're not a vegetarian, are you?"
"Nope," Jacob said, starting to roll up his sleeves. "But I'm kind of disappointed that you can't peel potatoes by magic."
"Haven't you seen the beginning of Fantasia?" Beatrix said, handing him a potato peeler. "Using magic for manual labour always goes wrong."
"Man, that movie terrified me as a kid," Jacob said, picking up a potato and examining it like he had never seen one before.
"Oh, that Night on Bald Mountain bit?" Beatrix asked. "Pretty scary with the demons."
"No, it was the dancing hippos, actually," Jacob admitted. "I don't know; there was just something about them. I was pretty sure they were going to come and eat me in my sleep. Probably because Tom said they would. My older brother," he clarified at Beatrix's questioning look. "He liked to scare me."
"That's what older siblings are for, right?" Beatrix said lightly, but Jacob was silent for a moment.
"Yeah," he sighed. "I suppose they are." He fumbled with the potato peeler, frowning. "Man, this is hard."
"Haven't you ever peeled a potato before?" Beatrix asked incredulously.
"Well, I didn't want to admit it, but... No," Jacob said. "Is it that obvious?"
"It really is," Beatrix said, shaking her head. "Damn, never peeled a potato before? You must have grown up rich."
Jacob looked away, embarrassed. "Let's just say my parents had some old-fashioned ideas about boys learning to cook."
"Seriously?" Beatrix asked, taking the potato from him and demonstrating how to peel it. She showed off a little, managing to get the entire skin off in one go.
"Seriously," Jacob nodded.
"I spent my whole childhood peeling potatoes," Beatrix admitted. "I swore I'd never eat another one when I left home, but..."
"Big family?"
"Not exactly," she sighed, not sure why she was telling Jacob this. "I mean, I'm an only child, and I never knew my dad. But my mother... Well, she's really traditional. Being a witch is a way of life for her. Almost like a religion. So I grew up in a commune, with lots of other witches and warlocks. Everything was shared. Food and chores. I peeled a lot of potatoes. We ate a lot of mutton stew." She paused. "I hate mutton stew."
"Bloody hell," Jacob said. "That must have been...interesting. And fun, having so many other people around."
Beatrix scoffed. "Yeah, it was great," she said sarcastically. "I just loved never having a moment of peace or any privacy."
"Is that why you live alone now?" Jacob asked, looking around at her sleek, quiet house. "Because you like your peace and privacy? Is that why you don't want a relationship, either?"
Beatrix was taken aback. She hadn't thought Jacob would be so perceptive. "Something like that," she said quickly and turned away to busy herself with seasoning the steak.
✽✽✽
Jacob was, Beatrix thought, at least trying to be a good guest. He had smiled benignly when she had told him not to use all of the hot water and had been surprisingly good company as they had chatted over dinner. She couldn't help thinking, as Jacob sang the praises of the skillet, that he was a much better dinner companion than Rowan had been. On the other hand, that was such a low bar that even Prada could have jumped it.
"I'm, uh, going to turn in for the night," Jacob said, appearing in the hallway as Beatrix decanted leftovers into a neat Tupperware container. "Let you have some time to yourself. Don't want to crowd your space."
Beatrix looked up and tried her very best not to let her mouth hang open.
He was wearing black basketball shorts and a loose white singlet that showed that, yes, his chest and biceps were just as muscular as his sweat-damp shirt had hinted that very first day she had met him.
"Fine," she said quickly, looking away. "That's, uh, fine."
Jacob half-smiled and tilted his head. "Prada usually sleeps with me, but it seems like she's got a better offer."
Beatrix looked down and saw that Prada was still in the very middle of Gumbo's enormous dog bed, but that she had now allowed Gumbo to rest his paws and snout on the edge.
"Looks like," she said. "I really shouldn't let your dog bully my dog, but—"
"He loves it?" Jacob cut in, grinning.
"I was going to say he could stand up for himself if he wanted to," Beatrix finished with a wry smile.
"He could eat Prada if he wanted to," Jacob grinned.
"Oh, totally," Beatrix said. "But he's just too damn gentle. Seems fierce, but then you realise he's just a big old softie."
"I wonder where he gets that from," Jacob said, raising his eyebrows. And what the hell did he mean by that? "Night, Beatrix," he said. "I'll see you in the morning."
And Beatrix was left to sit on her quiet sofa and wonder just how the hell she was going to cope with Jacob invading her space for however long it took for Onyx's curse to break.
9 Jacob
Jacob woke up to a message from Ant employing the eggplant emoji to imply a variety of increasingly obscene sexual acts. He supposed he deserved it after telling Ant that he wouldn't be home the night before because he was 'working late'.
To be fair, Jacob had had a wild time. Discovering that magic was real and finding he was temporarily bound to his lovely though fearsome neighbour definitely counted as wild. But it certainly hadn't been the kind of wild that Ant imagined for him.
"Are you ready?" Beatrix interrupted his train of thought. "You said you had to go to your office, let's get it over with."
Jacob looked up and smiled. Beatrix had clearly been right in the middle of doing something very hands-on with one of the bubbling vats because her hair was damp with steam and there was a smear of something aggressively purple on her cheek.
"I'm ready," Jacob said, pushing up from the chair and sliding his laptop into its bag. "It should only be an hour or so."
"I still don't get why we have to go to your site office just for you to do a video call," Beatrix grumbled, letting out an exaggerated sigh.
"Because my bother would definitely notice if the background didn't match what he expected," Jacob explained patiently. "And I don't want to explain to him why I'm...stuck here."
"Fine," Beatrix let out a breath. "You good until I get back?" she called to Shauna.
Shauna was wearing what looked like enough protection for an industrial welder as she added seedpods into a steel cauldron of something oozing and green. It smelled, Jacob thought, like the morning after a night spent mixing cider and jaeger bombs. But she gave Beatrix a thumbs up, and Jacob had to believe that was how the mixture was supposed to smell.
"And you'll keep that one out of trouble?" Beatrix jerked her head at Onyx, who was sitting hunched over behind the computer as though he hoped not to be seen.
"I said I was sorry," he said, looking up with a baleful, hangdog expression. Jacob kind of wanted to give the poor guy a hug, if he hadn't been wearing so much spikey jewellery.
"'Sorry' doesn't even begin to cover it," Beatrix rolled her eyes. "'Sorry' isn't getting me unbound from this guy, is it?"
Onyx opened his mouth, but Beatrix turned away. "So, are we going?" she said impatiently, hands on her hips. "I don't have all day, you know."
"And here I was thinking that I was being incredibly accommodating by agreeing to work out of your workshop. Not to mention staying with you," Jacob said genially. "I've been more than fair."
Beatrix muttered something under her breath that Jacob thought it was probably best if he didn't hear and pushed out through the double doors where an excited Gumbo and a yipping Prada were waiting for them. Prada, it seemed, had finally accepted the indignity of not being allowed inside the workshop. She was far too busy enjoying being the boss of the enormous and good-natured Gumbo.
✽✽✽
"Don't say anything, okay?" Jacob warned Beatrix as he opened his laptop, carefully checking that the video showed nothing but himself and the wall of the temporary site office.
"I'm not stupid," Beatrix bristled. "You don't need to remind me. I've got better things to do than butt in on your evil plans."
"I don't have—" Jacob began, but he knew it was pointless.
"Hey, Jakey!" Tom called out as the blurry image of his father and brother appeared on the screen. "How's it going down in Shepherd Land?"
"Shepherd's Crossing," Jacob corrected, but he suspected the slight was intentional.
"Whatever," Tom took a sip from a beer bottle.
"Bit early, isn't it?" Jacob raised his eyebrows.
"We're celebrating," Chuck cut in. "Sold that building down on Allambie Road for a great profit."
"The Allambie Road building?" Jacob repeated. "I thought you were holding onto that for future investment. That area really looks like it's going to—"
"No point waiting," Tom shrugged. "Not when the price is right. Besides, it was a pain in the ass with Council. Now it's someone else's problem!"
"I suppose so," Jacob said, rubbing his chin and feeling that familiar clenching in his stomach that he always got when he had to update his dad on his work progress.
"So, how's it going out there?" Chuck said, sipping his own beer bottle. "Got any tenants signed on yet?"
"Dad, it's only been a few weeks," Jacob protested. "I'm still getting the surveyor's reports, looking at utilities hook-ups, and—"
"Sounds like an excuse to me!" Chuck crowed, as though that was funny.
"Well, I've been making plans," Jacob went on hurriedly. "For the layout of the site. I'll keep some of the bushland intact, as a reserve, and—"
"Why would you do that?" Tom cut in. "That's prime real estate! And you want to waste it on trees?"
"There are benefits," Jacob went on, feeling a little desperate. "Environmental tax credits, for years. More likely to get other projects through Council, and it's attractive for tenants, too, if their premises are on a sustainable development. I was looking at putting in solar, a water retention system, and–"
"Jakey wants to save his precious trees!" Chuck laughed more loudly. "You're a good boy, Jacob, but I've said it before, and I'll say it again; I do wonder if you're a bit too soft for business."
"Financially, it will actually benefit us in the long run," Jacob went on, rubbing his chin and feeling his stomach begin to twist into new and exciting shapes. "I can send through some projections."
"Look, it's your site. I gave it to you," Chuck said finally. "And if you can find buyers or tenants who'll pay through the nose for this environmental crap, then good for you. But you're making things hard for no reason."
"I really think this approach will pay off in the long run," Jacob said, determined to hold his ground, not least because he suspected Beatrix was listening. "I've got some interest from real blue-chip companies who'll stay around for the long haul, not just jump ship when something cheaper comes up."
Tom let out a whistle. "All that work, keeping tenants happy," he said. "Just for a few trees. I had a new contact I was going to send you. Corporate who might be interested in purchasing some land. But that was before I knew you were going to just bugger about with it."
"It's not buggering about," Jacob said testily. "It's a long-term plan. A sustainable long-term plan. Even if we do sell it, twenty years down the track, it will be worth a lot more this way."
"We might be dead in twenty years," Chuck interjected. "Especially if your brother keeps drinking like he does!"
Tom laughed good-naturedly. "Live fast, die young, leave a good-looking corpse!"
Jacob forced a smile. "Was there anything else?" he said. "Any other concerns?"
"Sounds like you've got it covered, Jakey," Chuck said. "I can't fault your work ethic, even if you're a bit soft. Let me know how you get on. And if you meet a nice-looking girl from a decent family. Or I'll tell your brother to get you set up with one of Alyssa's friends."
Tom laughed. "Nah, I couldn't wish that on him," he said. "I got the only looker of the bunch, her friends are... Well, maybe they've got nice personalities."
"Thanks, Dad," Jacob said wryly. "I'll talk to you later, okay?"
"Don't work too hard, Jakey," Chuck finished. "Shame you're not in the city, we're off to lunch. Don't call later this arvo, it's going to be a big one."
"I won't," Jacob said, internally sighing. "I hope you enjoy yourselves."
The screen went black, and Jacob let out the groan he had been holding in. He had sle
pt badly, even though Beatrix's futon had been surprisingly comfortable, fitted with bamboo sheets that smelled like fresh air and eucalyptus leaves. But his brain? His brain had been totally unwilling to let him sleep. He was still trying to work out how to fit the existence of magic into his world view. Every time he tried, reality threatened to implode around him. How could it only be 11 AM? He really needed a break from all this.
"Are they always like that?" Beatrix asked, popping up from the chair she had been sitting in. She was looking at him strangely, like he had suddenly sprouted feathers or a third ear.
"Well, yeah," Jacob said, wondering what she meant. "I mean, it's the property business, everyone can be a bit rough around the edges."
"That's not what I meant," Beatrix said. She paused for a moment, still looking at him. "You really do want to keep some of the bushland, don't you?"
"That's what I've been trying to tell you," Jacob said tiredly. "I don't want this place to be an ugly, barren industrial park. I really think I can make this a great place for businesses that want to be located somewhere beautiful. This could be...better. Better than what our competitors create."
"But your dad and your brother aren't too keen on that, are they?" Beatrix said.
"Look, it's not like they hate the environment," Jacob said, feeling defensive. "It's just they're not so much into the long-term thing. My dad, he's all about the quick deal, with the least work. Buy land cheap, and just hold onto it until it's worth something. There's nothing wrong with that, it's just..." He trailed off. "We don't always see eye to eye, and especially with Tom, well, it's two against one and so..."
"Why do you work with them if you don't have the same values?" Beatrix pressed, frowning. "And they're not exactly respectful to you. Jakey."
"Please don't call me that," Jacob grimaced. "Look, it's just banter. That's how they are, how they've always been. I know they value me. They always talk about how I save their ass at the compliance stuff, at the detail. And I do! They would have been in serious trouble by now if I hadn't kept them in line. We're family."
Witch Way Now: A Paranormal Romantic Comedy (Raising Hell Downunder Book 4) Page 8
