"So important," Terry said brightly. "We spend so much of our lives working, we need to make sure it's enjoyable."
"I guess so," Jacob said, clearing his throat.
"You're such a cutie, aren't you?" George said, bending down to make a fuss of Prada all over again as she nosed at the decaying leaves under a tree. Unlike Martin and Phillipe, George and Terry had been enchanted by Jacob's tiny dog, and Prada was loving the attention.
"She certainly thinks so," Jacob said, managing a small smile. "If you'd like to come back to the office, I can make you a coffee, and we can go over the plans."
"Oh, that would be lovely," Terry said brightly. "What a treat, someone making a coffee for us." She nudged George, and he grinned genially.
"Look, you can show us all the numbers," George said affably. "But I think Free & Able would be a good fit here. Plenty of parking, lots of natural beauty, near to affordable housing, and all the space we need to expand."
Jacob felt sick and guilty inside as he thought about Kappa again. "That would be great," he said, forcing another smile. "Let's see what we can work out for you, then."
Was he really the kind of guy who wanted to sell to Kappa instead of helping people like Terry and George? People who actually did some good in the world? Was it worth it, just to impress his dad?
24 Beatrix
Beatrix shouldn't have been surprised that her mother left as soon as she realised that Beatrix wasn't going to plan revenge or let Agnes talk her into moving back to the commune. But she was. And it hurt to see the flattened grass where the yurt had been the next morning.
"I don't need her," Beatrix said out loud into the crisp morning air. "I'm...fine." Gumbo nuzzled her hand as though to reassure her, but Beatrix didn't believe it. She certainly didn't feel fine. Not even close. She still felt sick and hollow every time she thought of Jacob. But her anger, furious as it had been, had morphed into something else. Grief.
It was definitely grief. Gut-wrenching, soul-destroying grief. She grieved the loss of what she had thought she had been building with Jacob, what she had thought she had with him. The person who she had thought he was. The man she had lo—
"I'm not going to think that word," Beatrix said firmly, picking up a stick and throwing it as far as she could. Which wasn't very far. Her grief seemed to have affected even her pitching ability. "I don't—" she swallowed hard, raising her chin.
But even if she didn't use any particular four-letter words, Beatrix knew it was grief of the most profound kind just the same. She had let herself begin to imagine a future with Jacob. She had been the opposite of disgusted when she had imagined him moving into her little house permanently. It had made her heart warm to think of crisp winter mornings, walking the two dogs across the site. It had made her soul smile to think of dinners they'd share, trips they'd take together, celebrations they'd enjoy. Birthdays, holidays, anniversaries. She had even thought fondly about finding that first grey hair in Jacob's dark head.
Beatrix was grieving the life she had begun to imagine with Jacob. A life shared that she had never been able to imagine with anyone else. She had never felt like she wanted anyone by her side. Not until she met him.
"It doesn't matter," she told herself. "I'll get over it, eventually. One day." She managed to smile as Gumbo bounded back up to her, his long ears flapping and tail wagging haphazardly, an entirely different stick caught proudly in his mouth.
"Well, I guess you did your best," Beatrix shook her head and let him keep his new stick. She couldn't help sneaking a look at the site office, just visible through the trees.
What would she say to Jacob if he came to see her, she wondered? She didn't think he would. After all, she had told him that she never wanted to see him again, in no uncertain terms. But what if he did? What if he came back to her, told her that he had told Kappa to go drown themselves, that he'd save the bushland, just as he had promised? What if he told her that he was beyond sorry for ever even considering the Kappa deal, even for a moment? What would she say to him then? Could she ever forgive his betrayal?
Who was Jacob, really? The sweet, kind man she had known? That Jacob was thoughtful, smart, and made her laugh so much her sides ached. Was that the real Jacob? Or was it the slick asshole in the suit, ready to sell out the land from under her feet to make a quick profit?
"Morning," she said, forcing herself to smile as she pushed through the double doors. "You're here early."
Shauna looked up from the nub of ginger she was busily slicing into paper-thin pieces. "My neighbour took the boys to swimming with her girls, so I thought I'd get a start on these. You're sure about making pimple patches from ginger?"
"I'm sure," Beatrix nodded. "The prototype works a treat. So long as I enchant the ginger properly so it doesn't cause chemical burns. Infuse it with a little bit of purifying energy, and we'll be blasting pimples off many a teenage chin in time for the big dance."
Shauna laughed, but then paused. "Your mum's gone home, huh?"
Beatrix let out a sigh. "Yeah," she admitted. "We... Well, not really argued. I said I needed space, and she got offended. It's for the best. We just get frustrated when we spend time together. I'm not the daughter she wants."
Shauna made a soft sound of disapproval. "Your mother should be proud of the amazing daughter she has." She peeled another perfect slice of ginger, completely transparent. "And maybe she's not the mother you wish you had, either."
Beatrix shook her head. "Maybe not," she admitted. "But it's not like we get to choose."
"A good parent adapts, Bea," Shauna said. "To be the kind of parent their child needs. Do you think your mum has ever tried to do that for you, really?"
"That's not—" Beatrix began. "That's not really a thing in her culture," she said after a moment. "It's more about, you know, revering our elders. Especially if they happen to be one of the most powerful witches in the damn country."
"Well, even after working here a year, I still don't know much about witches," Shauna said. "But I know plenty about being a parent. My boys have taught me that. And a good parent is what their kids need them to be. Doesn't matter about culture, hun."
"She does her best," Beatrix said, swallowing hard. "Mum does her best to—" she couldn't finish.
"Does she, Bea?" Shauna said, looking at her with warm, gentle sympathy. "Does she really?"
Beatrix swallowed hard, looking away. She couldn't answer that question. Not even after all these years.
"She liked your Mars Bar slice, anyway," Beatrix said, forcing a smile. "She's got good taste."
Shauna laughed. "Did I tell you the boys insisted on helping me with it? When I told them it was for my boss, they wanted to help."
"But they've never met me!" Beatrix frowned. "I mean, they sound great, but—"
"But they know that you're always flexible with me," Shauna explained. "Treat me with respect. Since I came to work for you, I've never had to miss a sports day, never been late to pick them up from school. You've never held it against me, that I need to be there for them. Most bosses aren't like that."
"Most bosses suck, then," Beatrix said. "I'd do just about anything to hold on to an employee like you."
Shauna smiled, her ruddy cheeks turning just a little redder with the compliment. "You're a good person, Bea," she said. "And I'm sorry about what happened with Jacob. I guess we were all wrong about him. He seemed like a really great guy."
"I know," Beatrix found a lump in her throat that made it impossible to swallow. "I know," she repeated. "Guess he wasn't quite who I thought he was."
"You know I won't hold it against you if you need to shut this place down," Shauna said after a while.
Beatrix looked up sharply. "We don't need to talk about that. Not yet, anyway. I mean, even if he does sell the site to Kappa, these things take a while to..."
"That's true," Shauna agreed. "But I know you'd hate to stay once they owned the land next door."
Beatrix sighed. "I don't know if I can thin
k about that yet," she admitted. "I love it here, and it seems crazy to think that this is all going to change. The trees, the little paths, even that horrible swampy dam full of yabbies."
"Ooh, they're cranky bastards," Shauna chuckled. "I remember when Gumbo went in and—"
"And he had a yabby on each ear, like earrings!" Beatrix joined in her laughter, remembering Gumbo's indignation as she had prised the yabbies off him. "He didn't do it again, though, did he?"
"No, he learned his lesson. He's smarter than you give him credit for."
"I don't think so," Beatrix grinned. "He's lovely. Loveliest dog around. But smart? I don't think we can give him that."
"Maybe not smart," Shauna conceded. "But intuitive. He always knows when someone needs a little extra love. That's worth something."
"Yeah," Beatrix said, sighing deeply. "It definitely is."
She stretched her arms wide and flicked on the coffee machine. "I'd better get to work, huh?"
"You're the boss," Shauna shrugged. "If you wanted to sit at your desk all day shouting at us and playing solitaire, you could."
Beatrix wrinkled her nose. "Do people still play solitaire?"
"Oh yes," Shauna said. "I've got an app. It's great fun."
"Shauna?"
"Yes?"
"Thanks," Beatrix said. "For...everything, I guess."
"Don't mention it."
✽✽✽
If Shauna's warm and motherly advice made Beatrix teary, it was nothing compared to what she felt when Onyx approached her in the greenhouse.
"How are you feeling?" he asked, his long fringe pushed aside so she could see his eyes for once.
"I'm okay," she said. "Really, not too bad. I mean, I probably overindulged last night, but..."
"You don't seem okay," Onyx shrugged. "But I guess it would be weird if you were. I mean, the guy you loved betrayed you. And it was only a few days ago. It would be peculiar if you were okay now. Like some kind of robot."
Beatrix let out a half-laugh. "I wasn't—" she began, but it was no use. She couldn't pretend, not to Onyx. "I'm not okay," she admitted. "I feel...empty. When I think about my future and about how he's not part of it anymore, I want to scream and break things and burn down buildings, and—" she stopped, shaking her head. "I'm just good at keeping on with things, even when I feel like that."
"You're very strong," Onyx said, smiling faintly. "You always were, even at school. Kids would tease you, say stuff about your family, and you'd just lift your chin, give them the finger, and keep doing whatever you were doing."
Beatrix laughed. "I didn't feel very strong, back then," she admitted. "I was so lonely, so isolated. You were the first person to talk to me."
"I should have done it sooner," Onyx said, with a half-smile. "But I was kind of scared of you."
Beatrix sighed. "Can't blame you for that. Everyone thought I'd give them some kind of disease if they got too close."
"No, it wasn't that," Onyx shook his head. "You seemed so independent. Like you didn't need anyone. Like you didn't even want a friend. I thought you'd tell me to piss off if I tried to say hi."
"But I didn't, did I?"
"Nope," Onyx shook his head. "You ended up being the best friend I could ever imagine."
"Oh, come on," Beatrix laughed. "What about that guy in your band? Judas?"
Onyx laughed. "He's not like you, Bea," he said quietly. "You're the one who's always been there for me. Supported me when everyone else thought I was nuts. Gave me a damn job!"
"Oh, that was totally self-interested," Beatrix protested. "You're frigging amazing with the numbers. I need you."
"Still," Onyx said, that half-smile playing over his black-painted lips. "You're an amazing person. And I'm so sorry that you've been hurt like this. It's not fair, and I...I'm sorry about what I did, with the spell. That kind of made it all happen."
"No!" Beatrix said quickly. "You can't blame yourself for that! I mean, okay, you should probably blame yourself for messing around with my wand. That was a terrible idea. But me and Jacob getting together? You can't be mad at yourself for that."
"I wasn't, until this happened," Onyx said. "I thought I had done you a favour. You seemed so happy with him. All your stuff about never wanting to be tied to anyone, you didn't care when it was him."
Beatrix shook her head, playing with the end of her ponytail. "I know," she said quietly. "And I...I don't know how I'm going to... I miss the guy I thought he was so much."
Onyx patted her arm, scrunching up his face. "If there's anything I can do to help, just call on me. You know that, right? Anything at all." He paused. "Except maybe a spell."
Beatrix laughed, and it was enough to force back her tears. "Thanks," she said quietly. "How did I end up with such great friends working at my business?"
"Just lucky, I guess," Onyx said. "But seriously, tell me when you're ready to get drunk and throw his stuff into a bonfire, okay?"
Beatrix laughed. "If there's any bonfires, you'll be the first person I call."
As Onyx went back to picking mint carefully, one delicate leaf at a time so as not to bruise them, Beatrix's mind was full.
Should she leave Shepherd's Crossing? She'd have to eventually, she supposed. There was no way she could cope with living next to a Kappa data centre, that was for sure. Every day would be a reminder of Jacob's betrayal. Not to mention that being right next to that much concentrated evil would definitely impact her herbs and flowers. No one would buy skincare infused with evil.
Where would she go? Not back to the commune, she knew that much. No matter what her mother said about being part of the community. She didn't even like most of the witches and warlocks her mother lived with, and they weren't family to her. Not really. She certainly wouldn't let herself live in a goddamn yurt again. No matter what happened in her life, her yurt days were over.
25 Jacob
"What are you doing?" Ant asked.
Jacob looked up. "Nothing," he said quickly, turning off the screen on his tablet and pushing Prada off his lap. "Just, um, getting ready for work."
"Dude, if you're going to look at porn, at least do it in your room," Ant teased. "Don't want your jizz all over the sofa."
"I wasn't looking at porn!" Jacob retorted grumpily, even though he knew Ant was joking. "It was..."
"What?" Ant asked. "Come on, dude, what's so secret?"
Jacob sighed. "It was an article about Kappa's privacy breaches," he said after a moment. "The way they've leaked personal information about protestors and stuff. You know, in countries where there's an oppressive regime. It's really bad."
"Scumbags," Ant said, shaking his head. "I mean, but you kind of knew that, right? We all know they're assholes, but we just can't seem to quit them." Ant held up his own Kappa smartphone.
"Yeah," Jacob said. "I did know. Of course I did. And I never would have wanted to... But it wasn't like I went looking to do business with them, did I? It's not my fault they approached Dad, and he got all excited. What was I supposed to do, Ant? Tell them no?"
"Woah," Ant said, putting up one hand. "That's a lot of feelings. This isn't really just about privacy breaches, is it?"
"I..." he began. "I don't know."
"Look, let me make some coffee," Ant said, flicking on the machine and tipping in fresh beans. "And we're going to talk, okay? You don't need to be in the office for a bit."
"I don't need to be anywhere," Jacob sighed. "I've got nothing to do, really, until we get the Kappa offer. Just waiting around."
"You're a bloody nightmare when you're not busy, you know that, Jacob?" He put two tiny espresso cups under the machine's nozzle, waiting until the little light flashed green to tell him that yes, he could have coffee now.
Jacob watched vacantly as the machine whirred and began to sputter out thin streams of dark brown liquid with frothy crema, all controlled by Ant's expert hand. He wondered who was the better barista - Ant or Shauna? Probably Shauna. She was versatile, whereas Ant thought that p
utting milk in coffee was a war crime. But he'd never tell Ant that anyone made better coffee than him.
Ant set the tiny cup in front of Jacob and sat down on the sofa beside him.
"You're still thinking about Beatrix, huh?" he said, holding his own cup delicately with his thumb and forefinger, gulping it down in one quick sip like his mouth was fireproof.
"Of course I am," Jacob sighed. "I miss her so much, dude. And there's nothing I can do. Fucking nothing. There's no way I can fix what I did. No grand gesture, no begging on her doorstep, nothing. I lost her, man. And I..."
"You're bloody miserable," Ant supplied. "Yeah, I kind of got that. Moping around the house all day in your boxers, drinking beer and watching shitty TV. Hell, you helped me with my art project for six hours yesterday. Happy Jacob would never do that."
Jacob huffed out a breath. "Don't I get a pass on being miserable? I mean, I did make the biggest mistake of my life and lost my dream girl. Didn't just lose her; I made her hate me. I can't even blame her for that. She has every right to be furious."
"Yeah, I can't really contradict you there," Ant said, scratching his chin. "But I don't know if you're right that it's hopeless. I mean, there's one thing you could do."
"What's that? Tell Kappa to fuck off?" Jacob said, his voice heavy with sarcasm. "Lose my dad the biggest deal of his career and make him hate me? Make my whole family hate me?"
Ant was silent for a moment. "Well, yeah," he said. "I mean, you just have to work out how important Beatrix is to you, I guess. And the kind of man you want to be. I mean, do you want to be the guy who does business with a company like Kappa? Cos I didn't really think that was your thing, dude. You were so excited about working with all those small companies, about developing the site, but then the Kappa deal came along and..."
Jacob shook his head. "I can't just tell Kappa to fuck off!"
"Because of your dad?" Ant said. "Because you want him to be proud of you?"
"Be proud of me. And not hate me forever," Jacob said. "It's my dad."
Witch Way Now: A Paranormal Romantic Comedy (Raising Hell Downunder Book 4) Page 24
