She swallowed hugely and turned her gaze back on Beatrix. "So, where's this Jacob, then?" she said, looking around as though she expected him to jump out from behind a vat. "I would have thought he'd be here to greet me. If it's as serious as you say."
"He's working, Mum," Beatrix explained. "He does have a pretty busy job." She didn't say, "And so do I," but her mother seemed to hear the unsaid words just the same.
"I would have thought you could both make time for things you value," Agnes said, her nostrils flaring dangerously.
"I, uh, invited him over for dinner tonight," Beatrix said quickly. "I thought that would be nice. I've made that stew you like."
"I suppose that will have to do," Agnes sniffed, as though she was offended that Beatrix hadn't prepared a welcoming feast with an entire suckling pig, complete with an apple in its mouth.
"Great," Beatrix said. "Well, if you're ready to set up the yurt, I can—"
"So keen to get rid of me!" Agnes said, but she rose. She suddenly cupped Beatrix's face between her two rather dirty hands. "I have missed you, daughter. I want us to be as close as we once were."
"Not keen to get rid of you," Beatrix said through her squashed lips. "Just, you said you were tired."
"And so I am," Agnes sighed. "Until this evening, then!" She swept out of the room, her robe billowing in the breeze as she went through the double doors.
There was a silence around the table.
"So that's your mum," Shaun said.
"Yep," Beatrix said, letting out a sigh. "She's a character."
"She's amazing," Onyx sighed, sounding deeply impressed.
"She's certainly something," Beatrix said. "Anyway, let's get back to work. Can't sit here eating cake and talking about nothing all day."
She rose, but Shauna's eyes caught hers for just a moment. There was an unspoken sympathy that made her heart ache.
✽✽✽
"It's very dark in here, Mum. Are you sure I can't just turn on one light?"
"I'll light more candles!" Agnes said, sweeping a fresh candle through the air, and the wick suddenly burst into flame. Beatrix privately thought that was showing off.
"Okay," Beatrix said, deciding it wasn't worth the argument. "More candles it is, then."
She should have expected this. But it had been two years since her mother's last visit. Back then, the workshop was a shed, and her house was a caravan. She had forgotten just how particular her mother could be when it came to avoiding technology.
"I don't want any more of that ghastly electricity in here than is necessary," Agnes said firmly. "Disturbing the natural forces, interfering with my magic."
Beatrix decided it was best to choose her battles. No lights, but at least she had been allowed to keep the slow cooker on. She wasn't the biggest fan of mutton and potato stew, not after a lifetime of it, and she especially couldn't stand it cold.
"Well, hello there, ladies!" a voice suddenly called, and Beatrix's heart leapt in her chest. Somehow, even though she knew there was every chance her mother would be rude to him, she seemed to feel a million times more hopeful at the sound of Jacob's voice. He was like a pick-me-up tonic in beige slacks and work boots.
Beatrix made for the door, running to kiss him, regardless of what her mother thought.
"It's good to see you," she whispered, looking up into those bright green eyes.
"Always good to see you too," he said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Everything okay?" he said, in a voice barely audible.
Beatrix screwed up her face, but she nodded. Taking his hand, she led him towards the dining room.
"Mum, this is Jacob," she said. "My boyfriend."
"It's lovely to meet you, Ms LaGrange," Jacob said politely, and he leaned in to kiss Agnes on both cheeks, smiling his most ingratiating and charming smile.
"Agnes will do fine," her mother said, her eyes moving over Jacob's body with evident and terrifying appreciation. Her mother might not like her having an Ordinary for a boyfriend, but she was always a little flustered by a handsome face, and Jacob's face was certainly that.
"Well, I can see what Beatrix likes about you so much," she declared. "You're a comely young man, aren't you?"
Jacob smiled. "I'm very flattered you think so," he said. "I can see where Beatrix gets her beauty from."
Agnes - to Beatrix's horror - actually giggled. A real schoolgirl giggle. "Well, you have good taste, if nothing else," she said almost demurely.
"I've brought some wine," Jacob said, producing two bottles from his satchel. "Someone mentioned you were partial to a Malbec, and so—"
"My favourite!" Agnes cooed, and Beatrix wasn't sure how to interpret this turn of events. She had thought her mother would be rude to Jacob, not blatantly flirt with him. "Oh, you are naughty!"
Jacob grinned. "I try my best to behave," he said, bowing his head.
"No need on my account," Agnes said, still looking at him with a hunger that Beatrix knew had nothing to do with the hearty smell of mutton stew in the air.
"I'll, um, get some glasses," Beatrix said, but Jacob put one hand on her arm.
"I'll get them," he said, smiling. And Beatrix knew that he absolutely did not want to be left alone with her mother, however briefly. She couldn't really blame him.
As soon as Jacob disappeared from eyesight, but Beatrix knew not from earshot, Agnes began to speak.
"Oh, well, I can hardly blame you for this dalliance, daughter," she said. "He's very handsome, much more so than any of the others."
"It's not a dalliance, Mum," Beatrix insisted. "He's my boyfriend."
"So you say," Agnes said, looking sly. "But he's also the man who's going to destroy your home, isn't he?"
Beatrix let out a sigh. "Yes, he's the developer for the land next door," she admitted. "But he's not going to destroy anything. I told you, he's going to keep lots of the bushland, there's some fancy tax thing he can do with it."
"That's what he's telling you while he wants to get you knickers off," Agnes said, shifting so her bells jingled. "But you can't trust him, Beatrix. People like him, Ordinaries, they'll always prioritise money and mundane, selfish things. They'll never honour the Earth the way we do. They can't be trusted."
"I'm not anti-development," Beatrix said. "The bush can't just stay pristine forever. People like Jacob... We need them so that the development that inevitably happens isn't completely horrible."
"I heard someone say development!" Jacob said, smiling brightly and returning with three wine glasses. "My ears were burning."
"We were simply discussing your plans for the site," Agnes said. "Beatrix tells me that you're going to keep some of the bushland."
Jacob's face fell ever so slightly, and Beatrix felt like someone had poured ice water into her veins. But then his grin returned. "That's the plan," he said, opening up the bottle and pouring out generous measures.
"But these things can change so quickly," Agnes said. "Especially if there's money on the table. Isn't that so, Jacob?"
"Nothing is set in stone," he said neutrally. Beatrix noticed then that his wine glass was empty, and she frowned.
"Not thirsty?" she asked.
"Don't want to be over the limit," Jacob shrugged.
"You're not staying over?" Beatrix frowned, and Jacob looked uncomfortable.
"Uh, I, well—" he stammered, with a quick look at Agnes.
"Don't mind me," she said, giving him a wink that made Beatrix grimace. "I'll be in my yurt over in the trees. Too far away to hear anything."
Jacob let out an uncomfortable laugh and looked at Beatrix. "Do you want me to stay?" he asked, and Beatrix wished she could just ask him why he was being so odd. Was it just her mother's presence? She supposed that was enough to throw anyone off.
"I do," Beatrix said simply. There was no point in hiding what she really wanted. She needed the promise of Jacob, all to herself, to make it through what would undoubtedly be a difficult evening.
"Then I will," he said, smiling warmly.
But there was a distance in his eyes. A distance that definitely hadn't been there before.
"Then it's a party!" Agnes said, her voice rich and warm. She filled up Jacob's glass and raised her own. "I want to know all about the man who's got my daughter so dizzy and distracted."
✽✽✽
"And your mother?" Agnes said, resting her chin on her (thankfully clean) hands, her long fingers covered in silver rings set with coloured stones. Some were mystical, Beatrix knew, and others merely the tokens of past lovers.
"She, um, supports my dad," Jacob said, setting down his forkful of stew for the millionth time. Beatrix felt sorry for him. He had barely been able to get a mouthful in under the barrage of Agnes' questions. "With work and everything."
"A secretary. I see," Agnes pursed her lips.
"More like a personal manager," Jacob said, forcing a chuckle. "My dad needs a fair bit of managing."
"I would have thought bulldozing trees to make way for industry would come naturally to an Ordinary," Agnes said tartly. "You all seem so good at it."
"Mum–" Beatrix began, but Jacob spoke up.
"Actually, we're more in the business of turning worn-out industrial space into new commercial and residential developments," Jacob said mildly. "Recycling, really. This project at Shepherd's Crossing is unusual. We're only working on this because of the rezoning."
"The rezoning," Agnes repeated, sounding pained. "It's dreadful, the way that this criminal government can destroy so many lives, so much beauty with the careless stroke of a pen. And for what?"
"Well, to create a new commercial and residential hub, focusing on employment opportunities, service expansion, and affordable housing," Beatrix said, raising her eyebrows. "At least, that's what the website said."
Her mother made a sound a little like she was retching, despite being halfway through her second plateful of stew. "They have no right," she said fiercely. "Acting as though they own all of this, making decisions for other people, spending our tax dollars on—"
Beatrix coughed into her napkin to hide a snigger. She was absolutely sure her mother had never paid tax in her life.
"You know Mum, maybe you would get along with Wade," she said. "He's not very keen on the government either."
Agnes pointedly ignored her remark and went on to lament further wastage of her tax dollars.
"And your brother is in this business too?" Agnes asked, rounding on Jacob again.
Jacob almost choked on his mouthful of potato in his eagerness to answer her question promptly. "I—" he coughed. "Excuse me," he pounded on this chest, and Agnes gave Beatrix a thoroughly unamused look. "Um, yes," he said after a moment, his eyes watering. "Tom works for the family business too. He's one hell of a salesman, real gift of the gab, and—"
"Oh, I doubt he's as charming as you," Agnes said, her voice back to its previous purr. "I'm sure you can bring in plenty of interest on your own."
Jacob coughed again and took a long sip of wine, his eyes meeting Beatrix's for a moment in an expression that clearly said, help me. And Beatrix took pity on him.
"So, Mum," she began. "How are the preparations for Samhain? Is the pumpkin crop growing well this year?"
"Of course it is!" Agnes said, but she began to talk about the pumpkins anyway and, for a while at least, left Jacob alone to finish his stew.
Once dessert had been consumed - a golden syrup pudding, courtesy of Shauna - Agnes pushed up from the table, drained her glass and looked down at them both.
"I shall take my leave of you," she said, patting Beatrix on the head in a way that made her feel about six years old. "I think you two have plenty of things you'd like some privacy for. I hope you'll satisfy my daughter, Jacob Jones."
"Mum!" Beatrix was appalled.
"I don't see any point in pretending to be coy about sexual pleasure, Beatrix," Agnes said fiercely. "That's an Ordinary affectation, and I simply can't abide it. I do hope you enjoy each other's bodies this evening."
"Thanks, Mum," Beatrix said weakly, giving Jacob an apologetic look, but she could see that he was trying not to laugh.
"It was lovely to meet you, Agnes," Jacob said, standing up as well. "Can I walk you back to your...?"
"Yurt," Beatrix cut in. "And I'm sure that won't be necessary, will it, Mother?"
"I suppose not," Agnes said. "After all, what could possibly be a danger to me?" She let out a laugh that was a true witch's cackle and swept off in a jingle of bells and hemp.
Beatrix let out a sound that was somewhere between relief and exhaustion. She refilled her wine glass and then Jacob's.
"Well, that went a lot better than I thought," Jacob shrugged, picking up the glass and drinking deeply.
"Seriously?" Beatrix said. "She was pretty bad."
"She didn't hex me," Jacob said. "I'm counting that as a win."
"She's..." Beatrix sighed, unable to find the words to describe just what her mother was. "I mean, you did really well. She definitely liked you, it's just that she can't see why I'd want to..."
"Why you'd choose an Ordinary for a boyfriend?" Jacob offered with an apologetic smile.
"Something like that," Beatrix admitted. "She doesn't get me at all. Why I wanted to leave the commune, go to university, live in an actual house, watch TV, wash my clothes... She sees it all as a betrayal, I think. She still talks about this being my youthful rebellion, but the closer I get to thirty, the more she worries I'm not going to come to my senses."
"Is that something I should worry about?" Jacob asked, but his voice was light and teasing. "That you'll wake up one morning and ditch me for a yurt and a warlock?"
"Absolutely not," Beatrix said firmly. "I like my life the way it is. When I left home, I told myself that I'd never let someone live with me again. Not after growing up with so many people around, never any peace. And I know it's way too early for us to talk about anything like that, but—"
She let out a breath, and Jacob held her gaze.
"When I think about it with you, it's...well, it's not horrible."
Jacob let out a nervous laugh. "Well, that's something," he said, looking away, and Beatrix felt oddly dismissed. Didn't he realise what a big deal that was for her?
She looked down at her nails, frowning as she saw that she really needed to clean off whatever purple gunge had stained her cuticles. Maybe Jacob didn't usually date women with stained cuticles.
"Beatrix..." Jacob started, and his hand was warm and reassuring over her, his big fingers covering her stained cuticles entirely. "I'm honoured that you think being serious with me wouldn't be horrible."
He cupped her face in his two hands then, and at that moment, everything seemed utterly perfect. Nothing mattered, except that Jacob was looking right into her eyes like he never wanted to do anything else.
"I really did care what she thought of you, you know," Beatrix said softly. "When she's met people I've dated before, it didn't matter if she didn't like them. But with you... It matters." She swallowed hard, but Jacob was still looking at her in a way that made her insides feel like molten chocolate, sweet and melting.
"Then I hope I made a good impression," he said, still smiling. "Come on," he said, standing up and taking her hand in his. "Come and watch telly on the couch with me, and I'll rub your neck. I can see how tense you've been today. You need it."
Beatrix groaned in appreciation. "How did I ever get such a perfect boyfriend?" she said, smiling and running one hand through his hair.
"Your employee got a hex wrong," Jacob grinned. "It's way better than Tinder."
Beatrix laughed and followed Jacob into the TV room with a heart as light as Shauna's apple cake. Maybe everything would be just fine after all.
19 Jacob
"Jacob Jones," the voice on the other end of the phone was strangely robotic and instantly familiar.
"That's me," Jacob said, holding his breath in anticipation. "Is that–"
"Martin Weiss, Senior Acquisitions Manager, Kappa," the voice continued. Jac
ob had been right. "I've been discussing the Shepherd's Crossing landholding with my team, and we'd like a site visit. Tomorrow."
"Tomorrow!?" Jacob let out a breath, feeling panicky. He opened up his calendar, hoping he'd see something that he couldn't cancel, even for Kappa. A wedding, perhaps, or his own funeral.
"The morning would suit best," Martin went on. "We'll be with you by 10. I trust that suits."
"Er, of course," Jacob said, wanting to swear at his irritatingly empty calendar. "That, um, should be fine. I'll be glad to show you the site, and, uh, perhaps the nearby power stations, and discuss my plans for landscaping the—"
"10, then," Martin ended the call.
When he was absolutely sure Martin was no longer on the line, Jacob did swear. In fact, he went through every swear word he knew, including some disturbingly creative Russian curses that an ex-girlfriend had once taught him.
"Oh, fucking hell," Jacob finished, sliding down past his desk chair and onto the floor next to Prada, who gave his bare forearm a concerned lick. He sighed and reached out to stroke her silky fur. "How am I going to tell Beatrix why they're visiting?' he asked out loud. "I mean, do you think I can keep it from her? Just say I'm giving a site tour, and tell her it's for someone else? Would she find out?"
Jacob swallowed hard. That was much more like an outright lie than the previous dances in omissions and half-truths he had been trotting out as necessary. It made him feel like an absolutely terrible person. Beatrix had been so honest with him, shared so much. She had boldly introduced him to her prejudiced mother and he hadn't even been able to tell her about Kappa.
But there was no need to upset Beatrix when Kappa hadn't even made an offer, was there? That was what he told himself. But if that was true, he wouldn't be going to so much effort to hide it. He knew he was lying to Beatrix, and he knew it made him feel terrible. But it was for the best, wasn't it? How could he tell her that he was even considering Kappa's offer, when he knew what they would do to the site? But how could he not, knowing how much his whole family wanted him to make this deal?
There was no real solution, and it wasn't like this was his fault, Jacob thought desperately. He just had to keep hoping it would fall through on Kappa's end. Some technical issue, or a directive from overseas. Something where his Dad couldn't be angry with him for letting it slip through his fingers. And Beatrix would never need to know how close Evil Incorporated had come to setting up shop right next door.
Witch Way Now: A Paranormal Romantic Comedy (Raising Hell Downunder Book 4) Page 19
