A Little Taste of Magic

by M. J. O'Shea

  Damn. It wasn’t the smell. Gray nodded to hide his growing unease. But just like that, the scent had gone anyway. As soon as he spoke of it aloud, everything went back to normal.

  Gray shrugged it off, bid Jake good morning, then wandered across the town square feeling a bit out of sorts. He kept sniffing the air, searching for hints of that tantalizing smell. It was really and truly gone.

  Maybe I need to get more sleep. That’s probably it.

  There was an explanation for everything, Gray found. Sleep, or lack thereof, was quite often at the bottom of it. Gray was all the way in his office before he realized he’d forgotten to say good morning to Benjamin Baxter. He uncapped his thermos and took a long drink of his tea – the normal kind with no elusive hints of vanilla buttercream or cut grass. Perhaps a bit of caffeine would right his head.

  After a restorative gulp of tea, he felt much better. He took out the paperwork he had on his schedule to handle that day. It was a lot of work, managing his family’s holdings. But their last property manager had been absolutely useless, and a lot of the properties had fallen into disrepair, rents weren’t kept up and taxes were sloppily calculated. Nearly three years later, he was still cleaning up the various messes Mr. Weston Croft had moved all the way from Boston to make. Gray sighed and clicked his pen.

  If you want something done the right way…

  Gray had forgotten his lunch at home that morning; which was annoying, to say the least. He’d packed himself soup and a cucumber and salami sandwich from the market, and he’d been looking forward to it for hours. It was a long time until dinner if he contemplated waiting until the pub that evening to eat. Gray looked at his phone. He figured he had time to walk home and get his lunch if he ate the sandwich on the way back to the office. It was a gorgeous day for a change. No rain. Southeastern Maine had been hit with an incredibly wet September so far, but it had turned dry and crisp over the last few days. He got his jacket on and started out across the town square, but didn’t get far before he saw a bright tow-haired head careening toward him.

  “Gray!” She ran into him and wrapped her little arms tight around his waist. His youngest sister – well youngest until the new baby who Gray sometimes forgot about to be honest – had on dark jeans, bright Hunter boots, and a thick cable-knit sweater. It was pink and covered in embroidered sequin hearts. Typical. Gray smiled.

  “Hi sweetheart, how are you?”

  “Gray, you have to talk to Mother,” Luna said. “She wants me to go away to school. Like the little lady I am,” she finished in a high, prissy voice, clearly mocking how their mother sounded when she wanted to make a point.

  Looked like Miss Luna was going to take after him. Gray and his mother had never quite seen eye to eye. He was grateful that other than quarterly reports and a few meetings, she stayed out of his business with the property management and kept to her own activities.

  “Don’t you want to go away to school, darling? Have an adventure?” Unless he ran into them in town, Gray rarely saw his sisters for more than the odd visit, even though their family’s estate, Baxter House, was only a few minutes’ drive out of town. Gray didn’t know what his place was in his mother’s new marriage, and it was easier to stay where he was in the family townhouse than find out the hard way that he simply didn’t belong anymore in their everyday lives.

  “No!” Luna cried. “I want to stay here. Can I live with you?”

  Gray choked at the idea of his preteen sibling running around his orderly townhouse with lids off her glittery gel pens and sticky treats all over her hands, tearing up the neat back patio with her games. It didn’t matter. His mother would never go for it anyway.

  “You know you should be with Mom and the girls at home.”

  “And the new baby,” Luna grumbled. “I don’t like the new baby. She sleeps all the time and then she cries.”

  Fair enough. Gray hadn’t gotten very attached to the baby either. It felt weird to call the little thing his sister even though they shared the same mother. His thought was interrupted by a loud screech.

  “Luna! Mom’s going to murder me if you disappear and I don’t get you home in time for lunch!” The oldest of Gray’s younger sisters, McKenna, came flying across the square much like Luna had – hair askew, handbag and jacket barely held on her shoulder. “Oh. Hey, Big G.”

  Her cheeks were pink, and she was grinning. She looked gorgeous and well taken care of, but a bit dangerous as usual. Gray was wary.

  “Mack, slow down,” he muttered. He was well aware that the rest of the town watched them. The Baxters in their big crumbling manor were the celebrities of the town. “You need to act like the well-bred young lady you are when you’re out in public. No shouting. And don’t call me Big G.”

  “Pfft.” McKenna rolled her eyes.

  She and their middle sister, Fallon, were not like Gray at all. Fallon was busy painting her nails black and listening to music that made Gray’s ears melt. McKenna had been dying to escape Baxter Hollow for as long as Gray could remember. She wanted to go to the city and be part of the fast-living New York fashion crowd. She still had a year until she was old enough to go to college. He figured they wouldn’t see much of her after that.

  “Everyone can suck it,” she added.

  “McKenna. Language. Where’s Mom?”

  She shrugged. “At home. With the baby.” Unlike Luna, McKenna got a dreamy look in her eye at the thought of their little half-sister. That look was quite worrisome to Gray. He decided to have a chat with their mother quite soon about McKenna’s latent interests.

  “What are you doing in town?”

  “Haven’t you heard?” McKenna asked. “Carrie called Mrs. Healey who called Karen Wilson who called Mom. Somebody’s rented out the Pecks’ empty cafe. There’s a new guy in town.”

  Gray felt a weird shiver down his back. He thought of that smell from the square that morning and how his whole insides felt all scrambled and floaty afterwards. “New?” he squeaked.

  “Yeah. You wanna come check him out with us?”

  “Him?”

  “Yes, Gray. I said new guy.” McKenna looked her usual brand of impatient. “Which usually means it’s a him.”

  As soon as his sister said that, it was back – the smell, tea and cinnamon toast and rain, and yes it was exactly the same, floating and ephemeral so close, but then it disappeared. Again. And left him with a weird twist in his gut.

  What the hell?

  “No. That’s not necessary. I’m pretty busy today. I need to get my lunch and get back to work.”

  “You know, you don’t have to literally take care of all the property just because it’s yours.” McKenna rolled her eyes. He’d heard her very pointed opinions about his work schedule and self-inflicted sense of responsibility more than once.

  “If I don’t do it, who’s going to do it right?” Gray asked.

  It was the same thing he’d been asking since their father died all those years ago and left him with everything, archaic as that was. Their mother had disappeared into her social calendar, and he was left with three little girls and a lot more than a teenager should handle, even with hired help. But he did it. Who was going to watch the girls if Gray didn’t? Who was going to watch Baxter House and the other properties and make sure everything was running as it should? Gray had figured out the answer a long time ago. Nobody.

  “Come see the new guy with us. You work too hard, bro. I mean…”

  He listened to his sister, but he wasn’t really paying attention. In his mind, all he heard was new and guy.

  He didn’t like that weird feeling he’d gotten earlier. Or just moments before. It wasn’t… normal. It wasn’t the way Gray like things to be. Gray wasn’t a huge believer in signs, all that kind of stuff was way too weird and woo-woo for him, but he had to agree that if there were things such as signs, that odd flutter in his belly must be one. The way he kept smelling things that weren’t there definitely was another. If there was one thing Gray was
sure of, in his life of being perpetually sure of most things, it was a simple and clear truth.

  The stranger had to go.

  “Sawyer. We need to talk.” Gray rushed into The Tilted Shamrock that evening without pausing and sat at his customary spot at the bar.

  Sawyer Peck looked up with his usual good-natured smile. His hair was mussed; probably from hours behind the bar, and it shone black-green under the colored fluorescents. Gray hadn’t been a huge fan of the lights when they’d first put them up, but Sawyer’s mom Carrie told him he could decorate his own damn buildings and leave hers alone. Since he loved Sawyer’s mother possibly more than his own, he decided to let it go. The weird green glow had grown on him since, even if it did make Sawyer’s pale Irish skin look a bit reptilian.

  “Top of the morning to ya, Gray,” Sawyer said with a chuckle.

  “It’s not morning,” Gray grumbled. He wasn’t in the mood to be distracted. He got out his phone and sat it on the counter before he took a deep breath, ready to dive into Sawyer’s new tenant and his own list of issues with the situation.

  “I know.” Sawyer chuckled again. “I mostly only say that because it annoys you so much every time. Where’s Leo?”

  “On his way, I presume. I’m early. Listen, I have some business to discuss with you.”

  Sawyer looked uneasy for a moment, as uneasy as Sawyer could ever look, that was. He glanced around the bar, obviously hoping for another customer to help, but everyone’s glasses were full, and they looked content. Gray had him until Leo got there. He had to work quickly.

  “What business do you have, Baxie?” Sawyer probably already knew what Gray was going to say. They’d been friends for nearly twenty years after all – ever since Sawyer’s family had moved from Boston to Baxter Hollow when they realized they weren’t fans of raising children in the big city.

  He poured Gray a glass of beer and shouted into the kitchen for two orders of chicken pot pie and roasted vegetables. Gray always got chicken potpie on Tuesdays. Sawyer didn’t even bother to hand him a menu.

  “I’d like to rent the empty cafe from you.” Gray decided not to object to the nickname ‘Baxie’ like he had at least once a week for the past eighteen years, just like he objected every time McKenna called him ‘Big G’ with a gigantic smirk on her face. He figured it was best to get down to business and get Sawyer to say yes before Good Samaritan Leo could butt his big nose into it.

  Sawyer grinned. “I see you didn’t hear the news. It’s already rented out. Signed the papers this morning. Seems like a nice dude. Friendly. Weird clothes, but I ignored that part. Everyone has their quirks, right?”

  “I’d like to buy the cafe from you, then.” Gray wasn’t above playing dirty and buying everything in sight was his best technique for getting what he wanted – a tried-and-true Baxter tradition.

  Sawyer laughed. He laughed all the time. Usually Gray found it charming. At the moment he wanted to reach across the shiny mahogany bar and strangle one of his oldest friends until his face turned purple. Or until he handed over the cafe — Gray wasn’t picky.

  “Why on earth would you want to buy the cafe? It’s been sitting there for years.”

  “I…” He couldn’t come up with a logical reason. “I think it would be a good investment.”

  “Try again, Gray. You’re not a very good liar.” Sawyer snorted. “If you wanted it as an investment, you would’ve asked last week. Or last year.”

  Gray sighed. Fine, he’d tell the truth. “I just don’t have a good feeling about this new guy. He gives me the willies, and not in a good way.”

  That was kind of a lie. Actually, it was a blatant lie. Gray didn’t like the flutters and the gorgeous smells in the wind, but they were completely pleasant. Far more than that if he was telling the truth. Just as he thought that, a tiny waft of vanilla and tea drifted into the pub.

  How is he doing that?

  It had to be the new guy in town. There was no other explanation. Nothing even remotely close had ever happened before. Gray felt a shivering wave of goosebumps wash over his back. He bit his bottom lip.

  Sawyer was in the middle of a chuckle. As usual. “Bullshit. You haven’t even met him, have you?”

  “Well, no, but that—”

  “Really, Gray?” Sawyer flashed him a disapproving look. He gave those out so rarely that it actually made Gray feel a little bad. For a moment. “I was the new guy in town once. You were pretty nice to me from what I remember.”

  “We were eight.” And some people still referred to the Pecks as the new family in town after all those years. “Plus, you gave me the chocolates out of your lunch.”

  “Never say I don’t know how to bribe.” Sawyer grinned.

  “You’re distracting me,” Gray grumbled. “I want to buy the cafe.”

  “No.” Sawyer turned to pick up a clean glass. He had some sort of sixth sense when he was about to get a customer through the door.

  “C’mon, Sawyer. I’ll pay above market value.” Gray was getting desperate.

  “Leo!” Sawyer called. Sure as that, Leo walked through the door of the pub. He’d showered and changed out of his grubby handyman clothes into nice jeans, lace-up boots, a dark green Henley, and a pea coat. Gray was proud of how well he’d taught Leo to dress.

  While he was happy with Leo’s efforts to look respectable, he wasn’t happy about his quest to win Sawyer over.

  I’m not going to get anywhere once Leo gets involved.

  Leo would never hear of Gray wanting to drive someone out of town, no matter what odd little belly flip the guy gave him. There was no way in hell he was going to try to describe the smell. His two oldest friends would think he’d lost his mind.

  “Hey, Sawyer. Is this my pie, Carrie?” Leo asked when Carrie Peck slid their dinners in front of them — generous slices of chicken potpie with sides of mashed potatoes and her homemade applesauce. Gray loved Carrie’s cooking.

  “Yes, darling.” Sawyer’s mom kissed both Leo and Gray on the cheeks before she went back to her kitchen and office area.

  “I want some dinner too, Ma!” Sawyer called. Carrie waved impatiently like she already knew and was on her way to get it.

  “Sawyer. Think about it,” Gray muttered.

  “No. I’m not going to change my mind.” Sawyer laughed again. Gray really was going to pull Sawyer’s teeth out one by one and jam them into his eyeballs. That was a reasonable reaction, right? “You’re going to have to deal with the fact that you aren’t getting your way, this time, Baxie. And don’t even try to go through my parents. You know they passed the deed for the cafe over to me when we turned twenty-one.”

  Gray was very aware of that. Just like he was aware of who owned every building in town and exactly how much it would cost him to buy them out if need be.

  “Suck it,” Gray said. Not his most dignified moment.

  “I think I’ll leave the boy sucking to Leo.” Sawyer grinned and took a sneaky gulp from the pint that he kept hidden behind the bar.

  Leo turned bright red and focused his attention on his food. Gray simply rolled his eyes and took a long pull from his beer.

  “Do you smell that?” Sawyer said after they’d been working on their dinners for a few quiet moments.

  Gray took a sniff of the air, and yes there it was again. Tea and this time… the frosting smell was back and something light and a tiny bit floral like wet violets. “You can smell it too? The tea and vanilla smell? It’s been driving me crazy all day.”

  “No, I don’t smell tea — it’s more like, it’s hard to explain. Like summer, sort of. No. I know what it is. Like, remember when I went to Hawaii when we were seventeen, and I kept talking about how good it smelled. That’s what I smell.”

  “And I smell brownies and… burning firewood. And peppermint,” Leo muttered.

  Gray was seriously freaked out.

  “Is that someone’s perfume?” Leo asked. Sweet Leo. Gray didn’t even want to respond. Apparently, Sawyer had no pr
oblems with it.

  “Yes, Leo.” Sawyer made a face. “Someone’s wearing magical perfume that changes to match everyone’s favorite smells.”

  And that’s when it hit Gray. Those were his favorite smells. Homey, comforting smells that reminded him of country roads and Baxter Hollow and his own cozy townhouse. Hell no. Whatever was going on, hell, hell no.

  “The new guy needs to go. Now,” Gray said. “He absolutely needs to go.”

  “You’re blaming this weird smell thing on Arlo?” Sawyer looked incredulous.

  “Who?”

  “The new guy,” Sawyer said. He gave Gray one of his quizzical looks as if to say ‘how could you of all people not have figured it out already?’

  “What?”

  “His name. It’s Arlo.”

  What the hell kind of a name is that?

  Gray ignored the heady shiver that traveled up his spine. No matter what, he needed to get rid of this Arlo person. And quick.

  Yes. This is the right place…

  He knew in his blood. He had found it.

  Arlo had always thought that most towns were like every other. He’d been in enough of them since he’d left high school — and his family — behind to know. Town after town, city after city, he usually stayed a few months, maybe as little as a couple of weeks if he didn’t much like it wherever he was, but then he moved on — all his belongings strapped in the back of his truck and no intentions of ever returning.

  It had been obvious from a young age that he hadn’t been meant to stay back in Louisiana and live a steady life surrounded by family and the friends he’d grown up with. Arlo’s mother had told him once that he’d been born in the middle of an August heat wave and the town’s restlessness had gotten into his blood somehow.

  She said that he was special, even in a family of witches as powerful as the Vallerands, even with his birth father’s wild fey blood, and that she’d been able to tell he was different from the first moment she held him. His mother told him he could enchant anyone with a single giggle, smelled like absolute heaven, and never seemed to be content to sit in a single spot for very long. Arlo had grown up wild and rootless, the flighty pink and purple sheep of the family, a better baker than witch, and an all-around disappointment to everyone but his cousin Frankie and own mother and sister.