Law of Attraction

by Charlotte Hubbard

  “Swirl the cards around on the tabletop and then stack them when you feel ready. As you do this, think about your past, your present, and your future for the first simple three-card reading we’ll do.”

  The cards felt slick and cool and new. Angie’s eyes closed partway of their own accord as she let her mental images wander. When she’d stacked them, Lenore nodded.

  “Pick three: past, present, and future. Arrange them from left to right.”

  This seemed way too simple. Yet as Lenore turned each card over, the images intrigued her: an old crone holding a skull, a female charioteer driving a black horse and a white one, a beautiful nude woman pouring water from two pitchers.

  “Well, at least the women get progressively younger and stronger and prettier,” she blurted.

  “Excellent!” Lenore’s eyes crinkled as she laughed. “You’re a natural intuitive, and I’ll merely fine-tune your observations. The Death card, as your past, represents not just an ending of what has been, but also paves the way for a fresh beginning. Do any of those images bother you, dear?”

  “Well, I’m not wild about that snake on the shelf.”

  “You’ll notice the Roman numeral for thirteen, which, in ancient tradition, was reserved for high priests and mystics—not at all unlucky, but imbued with wisdom.” Lenore’s smile seemed surreal, her voice faraway and dreamlike. “Rather than predicting someone’s death, this card signifies the passing away of old situations. And the Chariot card evokes a new confidence and strength, does it not?”

  Angie studied the woman who held horses’ reins in one hand and a spear in the other as she gazed boldly forward. “Why’s one horse black and the other one white?”

  Her mentor’s face radiated a deep pleasure. “An astute question, dear Angela. This card is about steering one’s life through obstacles and challenges—getting a grip on good and evil, if you will. Harnessing them for your own purpose. It’s about mastery, and it’s where you are right now: discovering that you are in control and accountable for whatever happens, and for wherever you go in this life.”

  Angie blinked. This was no party game, after all. Lenore’s quiet explanations struck chords deep within her. “And the Star? This woman looks like she’s in control, too, but so…serene. Naked yet unashamed.”

  “Precisely, dear! Oh, you’re getting gold stars all around.” Lenore gazed at the card, smiling. “The Star tells of hope, an inner and outer harmony. The deep belief that all is calm and bright and, yes, revealed. An accurate reflection of what will be for you, Angela, once your ‘chariot’ transports you over this bumpy section of road.”

  “So this is really what’s in store for me?”

  “You chose these cards, dear. I’ve merely helped you interpret them,” the woman remarked. “Do my explanations ring true? For if they don’t, your interpretation is every bit as valid as mine, according to how the cards make you feel. The tarot calls up one’s intuition, and you, Angela, are obviously blessed with plenty of inner wisdom.”

  Angie let out an unladylike snort. “So why have I messed up my life so badly? Why did Gregg nearly crush the life out of me after he stole my money and—”

  “It’s all in your perception.” Lenore grasped her hand, radiating patience like a saint in an old religious painting. “You’ve had your share of black horses, experiences that caused you great pain, but they’ve been your greatest teachers. And you’ve finally learned. You moved on and grabbed the reins.”

  Lenore paused to gaze at the three cards again before continuing. “It’s highly significant as well that all three of these are in the Major Arcana. While the pip cards deal with everyday odds and ends, these signify life’s most important concepts and turning points.”

  Angie tingled where Lenore’s hand met hers, and she found herself locked into the other woman’s crystalline gaze. She let out the breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. “Who are you, really?” she whispered.

  And where had that question come from?

  The morning light bathed Lenore in a serenity Angie envied, not to mention an ageless beauty that appeared free of cosmetics. Her chuckle bubbled up in her throat, a sound akin to birdsong at dawn. “You’re on the right path, asking me that. I’m a psychic, a medium, a healer, an earth angel—I’m whatever you wish to call me—because I’ve been blessed with these abilities to carry out my purpose on this earth.”

  “You just know things?”

  Lenore shrugged. “I pray. I ask questions on behalf of those who seek my help, and I divine the answers from the voices I hear in my mind. The tarot, my crystals, and various other devices are my tools as well. But yes, I know things—about your life and who you are, Angela. And when the time’s right I’ll reveal them to you.”

  “That’s not fair! If you’re keeping secrets from me—”

  Lenore’s expression sobered as she glanced toward the ceiling as though she could see through it. The entire room stilled, except for the flames that flickered atop the white candles all around. Then those clear blue eyes found Angela’s again. “Life’s by no means fair, as you know,” the woman said with a sigh. “If it were, a good friend of mine wouldn’t be succumbing to lung cancer in the room above us when she never smoked. I’ve been Samantha’s guide and confidante and healer, and I’ll do the same for Elliott as he grieves. I will bring those gifts and many more to you, dear Angela, for reasons I hope you’ll find very special. But now’s not the time.”

  Lenore inhaled, slowly let out her breath and looked toward the door. Someone knocked quietly. “Door’s open. Please come in.”

  This is either too weird or too wonderful, the little voice in Angie’s mind whispered.

  Ross Costello was the last person she expected to see. He wore jeans and a pale blue polo shirt, and a musky cologne wafted in ahead of him. He looked troubled. “Angie. Lenore,” he said in a ragged whisper.

  “You’ve been upstairs to see Sam?” Lenore’s face grew as somber as Ross’s as he approached their table.

  “She’s comatose. And while I knew it would come to this…”

  “We’re never ready to let go,” Lenore agreed. “Yet while we grow sad and shake our heads in anguish, Sam’s soul is like a caterpillar emerging from its cocoon of illness to become a butterfly in the spiritual realm again. We can rejoice in that, Ross.”

  “Yeah, well, Elliott’s not exactly jumping for joy up there. Which ticks him off. He was determined to see her freedom from disease as a good thing, rather than wallow in self-pity.” Ross smiled sadly and brushed Angie’s cheek. “Sorry, sweetheart. I came here all excited about showing you around, and Samantha’s condition sort of stole my thunder.”

  “It’s never easy losing a friend. I’m so sorry.” A lump rose in her throat even though she’d never known Samantha James. And even though she’d witnessed these painful moments of passing many times at the hospice, she hadn’t attained Lenore’s level of serene acceptance. “If you’d rather not take me around today—”

  “No! If you don’t mind being my antidote, I could really use your company. Please?”

  Her heart thudded hard. Ross’s eyes shone with tears, and something inside her melted. It was way too soon to feel so open to this man—so vulnerable to his moods—because Gregg had manipulated her emotions from the get-go. Yet Angie smiled. Grasped his hand. “Seems the least I can do for the man who saved me from myself yesterday. We can leave whenever you’re ready.”

  She stood, smiling at Lenore, whose secretive look said she did know things she wasn’t telling. But it was all right now.

  “Thanks for the reading. I want to work with the cards again when you’ve got time,” Angie said.

  “Will do. You two have a wonderful day. I’ll go up and sit with Elliott.”

  Six

  WHAT a delight to walk Main Street, which meandered up a slight hill, perpendicular to the ocean. The Victorian mansions, restored to the grandeur of a bygone era, now sported trendy storefronts with names like Hot K
arma Hamburgers and Mystic Visions Salon. “This is so cool,” Angie remarked as she grinned at all the shops. “So many little towns have sunken in on themselves, and I’m glad that hasn’t happened here.”

  “The local business owners have worked hard to keep us up with the rest of the world.” Ross chuckled. “Who could’ve imagined Harmony Falls with an Internet café? And a doggie daycare with a bark park? The old roller rink’s recently been converted, too, for rock climbing, a skateboard park, and Wii games. All the storefronts are occupied, too. Displaying crafty stuff by local artists—or items you won’t find anywhere else.”

  Attracted by its bright neon colors, Angie paused in front of a store selling banners and ceramic figures for flower gardens. A place she’d browse later, because it didn’t strike her as a guy’s kind of shop.

  Ross continued, “This season’ll tell the tale, though. The local motels are getting cancellations for the summer, and I’ve had some beach-house rentals fall through.”

  “Yeah, the economy’s crazy everywhere.” She strolled easily beside him, aware of how passersby nodded at Ross while looking speculatively at her, the new girl in town. For how long?

  Maybe it was best to just enjoy how attractive he was, and how his voice caressed her, and how compelling his eyes were when she gazed into them. Better that than thinking about her own financial crisis, wasn’t it?

  As they moseyed across the street, she spotted a shop called Tea and Tarot. Feeling oddly drawn to it, Angie took in the boxes of exotic teas alongside various styles of tea sets, everything from Blue Willow to a local potter’s free-form ceramic mugs. A neon sign shaped like a crystal ball said MADAM RITA’S TAROT READINGS and gave the phone number, while the bookcase in the window displayed boxed tarot decks, Ouija boards, aromatherapy candles, and New Age books. Faceted chunks of quartz crystal, rose quartz, and amethyst winked seductively in the sunlight.

  Her heart sped up at the prospect of browsing this store. But why get her hopes up? The price tags were tucked underneath the pieces, and she probably couldn’t afford them. She felt like a kid with her nose pressed to the candy-store window.

  A woman with shoulder-length auburn hair watched them from the cash register inside. Angie smiled and waved. Ross waved, too, before placing his hand at the base of her spine to move her along.

  “That would be Madam Rita, also known as Rita Mc-Queen,” he murmured. “Sells some interesting New Age knickknacks, and like a lot of us, she also operates online. She’s been in a real mood about how her sales are going this spring,” he added, raising his expressive eyebrows. He draped his arm loosely around her shoulders, and when their hips brushed, his face underwent a rapid transformation, as though he intended to savor every inch of her body before the day was out. Preferably naked.

  Wolf alert! Her mind momentarily turned to mush as she basked in his dimpled grin. Angie gazed back at him, knowing better, sensing he and Rita McQueen were closer than he let on, yet she hadn’t felt this aroused in years. Once again she wanted to stroke that close-cropped beard that came to a devilish point on his chin.

  “How ’bout we drive up through the residential section? I check my properties every few days to be sure the signs are upright and the doors are secured.”

  Twenty years ago this would’ve sounded like an invitation to go parking…and maybe it was. “Sounds great,” she replied in a tight voice. “When I was a kid, I loved walking around Harmony Falls. My folks never worried about weirdos abducting me or following me back to the beach house. Now you have to be so careful about stuff like that.”

  “In that respect, we haven’t kept up with the times, thank goodness.” Ross clicked his key fob and ushered her to the passenger side of his black Navigator. “But I can’t guarantee that I won’t follow you, Angie. Been a long time since I’ve felt this tingly. More like fourteen than forty-two, you know?”

  Angie laughed nervously. It had been a long time since she’d engaged in such flirtation. And maybe she was being five kinds of foolish to enjoy it so much.

  How many women here has he slept with? The question popped into her mind as she stepped up into his Navigator. It was inevitable that a hunk like Ross Costello, who drove a chariot like this, would be the town’s most eligible male, and his remarks about Rita, the way Elena flirted with him, made her very aware of the competition. Local women had a hometown advantage. And for all she knew, one of them had a stake in Ross’s future.

  But it’s you he came to see today. You he wants as an antidote, after Samantha’s condition upset him. Angie stole a glance at Ross’s muscled arm as he started his car, then gazed at his dark locks and chiseled grin. Can’t miss how much happier he looks now, like you’re the kind of medicine he craves. Like maybe he’s been unlucky in love, too.

  But it was too early to speculate about that. Angie took in the rest of the main street before it curved into Summit Drive, where modest homes nestled between privacy fences and tall bushes, with decks facing the ocean.

  The number of real-estate signs amazed her. “Good lord! Half the town’s for sale.”

  “Folks are feeling the pinch. Selling their vacation homes.”

  “And what’s the going rate for this ocean view? Three hundred thousand?”

  Ross smiled as though she’d crawled out of Rip Van Winkle’s cave. “Nothing within sniffing distance of the water runs less than six hundred. Most of the bigger bungalows on this level go for seven or eight.”

  “Seven or eight hundred…” Angie gasped as she gawked out the window. “But most of these little places need work! Why, homes like these in the outer burbs of Seattle would only cost—”

  Ross shrugged, which did wonderful things to his knit polo shirt. “We’re not in Kansas anymore,” he quipped sadly. “Small homes with obvious flaws list for a lot, even if you have to peek between the next tier of houses to watch the waves. The owners paid too much themselves, back when real estate boomed, so they can’t afford to take a beating now. ’Scuse me a second.”

  He hopped out in front of a mailbox that gaped open. Angie didn’t miss the way his chinos hugged his backside as he plucked newspapers from beneath the red and white Costello Realty sign, his profile as he gazed around the property, his grin when he caught her watching him. “See anything you like?” he teased as he slid back behind the wheel.

  Angie cleared her throat. “Oh, I’d latch onto just about any of these places if I had a sugar daddy with a fat wallet,” she teased. “But some of us without two nickels to rub together can only dream.”

  “Nothing wrong with dreams, Angie. They tell us what to shoot for.” He hooked a finger lightly beneath her chin, his gaze so steamy she had to look away. “Don’t need to be a prophet to know you’ll flourish here, babe. You’re already tuned in to this town’s frequency, humming like an old-fashioned telephone wire. You’re a cell phone just searching for the right signal.”

  “And I suppose you’re the transmitter? The tower?”

  “Damn straight.” Ross ducked forward for a quick kiss, his lips lingering just long enough to make her ache for more. Then he drove slowly down the street, past homes he wasn’t paying the least bit of attention to. “Get my drift, Angie?”

  “Oh, yeah,” she rasped. But this giddy girl stuff was for middle schoolers, not for women who’d been around the block a time or two. Her fingers fluttered to the handprint on her neck, an attempt to keep herself centered despite Ross Costello’s come-ons. “Of course, the way Elena teases you—”

  “Nice gal, Elena. The eternal red-hot mama in search of a daddy. Better yet, a rich daddy.” His smile waxed foxlike as he steered around the next corner. “And I suppose she’s made only glowing remarks as she described our relationship.”

  “Yours and hers? Or yours and mine?”

  His dimples flexed. “Good catch. Nobody’s got a bigger heart than Elena, but if it weren’t for Lenore’s generosity she’d have bottomed out long ago.”

  Was that derision she heard? A distaste fo
r women who were down on their luck? “She doesn’t impress me as the type to mooch—or to do without male company for very long. I mean, with a face and a body like hers—”

  “Elena’s got nothing on you, Angie.” Ross’s voice had a low, sexy edge to it as he slowed the car in the middle of the street to reassure her. “You’ve got more class in one fingernail than Ms. Velez will aspire to in her entire lifetime. But let’s not talk about her. Let’s go somewhere a whole lot more…uplifting with this conversation.”

  Once again she felt the tug of his intense blue eyes, got lost in the what-ifs and what-nows his earnest expression conveyed.

  He nodded toward something outside her window. She followed his gaze and sucked in air. “Oh! Oh, Ross, it’s…Stop the car! This is it! How’d you know? How’d you figure out—and it’s for sale!”

  He parked at the curb of 24 Windswept Lane, chuckling as she scrambled out of the Navigator. Angie left the door hanging open to stand in the weedy yard, gazing at the bungalow where she’d spent so many summer vacations, where she’d pretended the upstairs was her oceanside apartment. Ross draped his arm loosely around her shoulders, but she was too intent on soaking it all in to succumb to his nearness. Her heart fluttered like a hummingbird.

  She sighed wistfully. “It’s smaller than I remembered. Everything looks bigger and brighter when you’re a kid, I guess.”

  “The years have taken their toll,” he agreed. “Recent owners haven’t done much upkeep, unfortunately, but structurally these bungalows are rock solid. With some time and paint and money invested in them—”

  “How much?” Angie’s heart faltered before the words died on the sea breeze. She had as much of a chance to buy this place as she did to win the Powerball jackpot, yet she twitched with the idea of living here. She was pretty good with paint and caulk, and she knew how to run a sander and a saw and…