Over Hexed: The Hex Series

by Thompson, Vicki Lewis

  He stepped out of the shower and went in search of the glasses, shivering and dripping water on the floor. What a pain. Surely he wouldn’t be forced to wear them much longer, but for now, seeing well enough to shave was a priority. He couldn’t get anywhere with Maggie Grady if he looked like a homeless person.

  Back in the warm shower, he lathered up and stroked the razor across his chin. Hello. What was this extra piece of flab? Since when did he have two chins to shave?

  He wiped the shaving cream off and tried to get a good look in the round mirror. Damned if he didn’t have a double chin! He couldn’t blame it on last night’s meal. Fat didn’t work that way. The extra fold must have been creeping up on him, created by a second helping of potatoes here, a doughnut there.

  At least his body was still fit…or was it? He gazed down at what he remembered as rock-hard abs and saw a little paunch. God, had he let himself go that much? Below the paunch—now this had to be an optical illusion—his dick looked smaller.

  Getting out of the shower again, still dripping water, he tried to see himself in the medicine cabinet mirror. He didn’t own a full-length mirror, had always considered that a vain thing to have. But without a full-length mirror, he was forced to get a stepstool so he could get the full picture, section by section.

  The view wasn’t encouraging. Surely he’d had more muscle definition yesterday. If not, why had six different women tried to hit on him? He’d been a studmuffin yesterday, but this morning, not so much.

  As he moved up and down the stepstool trying to decide if the mirror was flawed, his cell phone rang. He dried his hands, walked into the bedroom and picked it up off the dresser. He didn’t recognize the number, but he answered, anyway.

  Ambrose’s voice came on the line. “How are you feeling?”

  “Strange, if you must know. I can’t see anything without the glasses you gave me, but that could be from a hangover. What I didn’t realize is that I’ve apparently been developing a double chin without noticing it until now, and somehow I’ve let myself get way out of shape. On top of that my hair decided to go wacko on me this morning…” A horrible thought came to him. But no, that was too wild.

  “The herbal supplements must be working!” Ambrose sounded tickled shitless. “Dorcas will be thrilled.”

  “You did this?” In a way he was relieved to know he wasn’t slowly falling apart, but he didn’t remember taking any herbal supplements. “What supplements?”

  “Dorcas mixed a few things in with what you were eating and drinking last night. She thought that would be the easiest route to go. We expected that you’d stay around for breakfast so we could discuss the changes, but—”

  “Hold on a minute. Herbs take a long time to work. This was overnight.”

  “The brandy acts as a booster. Also the cocoa in the cake.”

  “But you drank the brandy and ate the cake!”

  “Just a little. But it’s a peculiar thing with these types of herbs. They work differently depending on your body composition and your…well, your mental attitude. I’m sure you’ve heard about the mind-body connection.”

  It sounded like California woo-woo stuff to Sean. “You should have told me what you were doing.”

  “To be truthful, we didn’t know if it would work. Dorcas had never tried this sort of sp—uh, combination of herbs before. She was a little afraid that you’d actually end up looking better instead of worse. Thank goodness we lucked out and that didn’t happen.” He hesitated. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it?”

  “I guess so, but I didn’t really imagine…my eyes are part of it, too, aren’t they?” He tried not to panic. There was probably some antidote he could take.

  “It’s better if you really need the glasses than if you’re faking it. People can tell if the glasses aren’t necessary.”

  Sean rubbed his forehead. The headache he’d been expecting after drinking all that wine had finally arrived. “Okay, maybe I did ask for this, but something’s come up, and I want the effects reversed. Mix up whatever you need to. I’ll be over in fifteen minutes. I don’t care what it tastes like, so long as it puts me back the way I was.”

  “Hey, Dorcas is good, but she’s not that good.”

  In spite of standing there dripping wet in a cold room, Sean began to sweat. “What do you mean?”

  “She made that concoction with some very rare herbs and she used up her entire supply. Gathering the herbs to reverse it would be next to impossible. She’d have to send away for some things, and a few of them might not be available this time of year. I’m afraid you’ll have to let it wear off.”

  “And how long will that be? A day or so?” He could deal with twenty-four hours. Maggie would still be here, and he could take command of the situation then.

  “Probably about two weeks, give or take.”

  “Two weeks?” Sean began to hyperventilate. “No, no, that’s way too long. You have no idea what’s on the line, here. I just met someone.”

  “Really? Who?”

  “You wouldn’t know her, but she wants to buy my family’s old property and put up a store. Plus she’s really hot, and if I looked the way I used to, I’m sure I could talk her into dropping the whole idea.”

  “Man, I wish I could help you, but there’s no way.” Ambrose didn’t sound as sorry as maybe he should have, considering. “I guess you’ll have to work with what you have for the next couple of weeks.”

  Sean felt desperation clawing at his insides. “You don’t understand. She’s after the property I want. Ever hear that old song about paving paradise to put up a parking lot? That’s what she plans to do!”

  “I’ll bet you can change her mind.”

  “Not like this.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because…because…” He couldn’t bring himself to admit that sometimes he’d counted on his good looks to get him what he wanted. He’d asked Dorcas and Ambrose to transform him so he could be something besides a sex symbol. Obviously he was no longer a sex symbol, but who was he?

  * * *

  Maggie drove back into town and parked between the diagonal white lines in front of Big Knob Realty. Now that she’d achieved her first goal of inspecting the property, she became aware of other needs she’d shoved into the background. She could use a bathroom, a cup of hot coffee, something to eat and a place to sleep tonight. She hoped Denise decided to open up early this morning.

  About twenty minutes later, a dark-haired woman in her forties parked next to her and walked toward the real estate office with a key in her hand. Maggie sighed in relief. Opening her car door, she called out to the woman. “Denise?”

  The woman turned and smiled. “I wondered if you were Maggie. I didn’t recognize you or the car. In Big Knob we know everybody and their vehicles.”

  Maggie got out of the Escort and locked it from habit. Probably didn’t need to in Big Knob. “Then you must know a guy in his late twenties who drives an old blue truck.”

  Denise’s smile turned to a scowl. “I do. That’s Sean Madigan. Very full of himself, which comes from being a hottie all his life.”

  “Uh, yeah, I guess.” Apparently Maggie would have to adjust to a different set of standards while she was here. If Sean was considered a hottie in Big Knob, she held out little hope for the rest of the male population.

  Denise unlocked the office door and gestured Maggie inside, flipping on the overhead lights as she followed her through the door. The lights flickered for a moment, and Denise paused to glance upward.

  When they stopped flickering and stayed on, she took off her coat and hung it on the coat rack by the door. “Where did you meet Sean?”

  “I drove out to the property and he showed up soon after I got there.”

  “I’ll just bet he did.” Denise looked triumphant. “He wants to buy that piece of land.”

  “Really? But surely he doesn’t have the money.”

  “Don’t be fooled by the old rattletrap he drives. He doesn’t buy n
ew things because he’s socking money away for a down-payment.”

  “Oh.” That explained a lot about his reaction to her. She must be his worst nightmare. The comment about her hair must have been an attempt at flattery, in case he could woo her away from her plan. As if.

  The information also cast Denise in an interesting light. “You know all this, and yet you emailed me late yesterday afternoon about buying the property.”

  “I most certainly did. It was serendipity. I just happened to see a pop-up ad for SaveALot on my computer yesterday afternoon, so I tracked you down through the SaveALot website.”

  “Why me? We have other location scouts.”

  “They were all men. I wanted a woman to have a crack at this.”

  Maggie didn’t have to work very hard to figure out what was going on. She was part of a revenge plot, not that it was anything to her. She didn’t care about Denise’s ulterior motives, so long as the sale went through and Maggie got the credit for landing a prime location.

  “Give me a minute and I’ll have some coffee for us.” Denise took off her coat and hung it on a coat rack near the door. “I have a one-woman operation here. Don’t even have a secretary.”

  “It’s not all bad, being your own boss.” Maggie could see the advantages. No H.G. breathing down your neck. She hung her trench coat on the rack alongside Denise’s coat. “If I could use your bathroom, I’d be a very grateful woman.”

  “Sure thing.” Denise filled the coffee carafe at the water cooler. “By the time you get back, I’ll have coffee made and the computer up and running. I’m expecting an email confirming ownership of the property.”

  In the bathroom, Maggie turned on the light, which also flickered before coming on. The building had to be at least fifty or sixty years old, maybe more. No telling what shape the wiring was in.

  Fortunately the plumbing worked fine. She took time to repair her makeup and put her frizzy hair into a clip buried at the bottom of her purse. She needed a haircut, but she’d been putting it off, and now she wished she hadn’t. Her hair looked like a rusty Brillo pad.

  With a sigh, she cleaned her glasses and put them back on. She hadn’t made a huge improvement, but that was as good as it was going to get today without a hair salon appointment.

  As she reached for the knob on the bathroom door, she heard an argument start up between Denise and some man. The voice sounded familiar and she hesitated, trying to place it. Once she did, she felt like hanging out a while longer in the bathroom. She had no desire to meet Sean Madigan again now that she knew both of them were after the same piece of land.

  She didn’t care how long he’d been saving his money, or what his reasons were for wanting the property. He’d ticked off Denise for some reason that was undoubtedly sexual, and he’d have to pay the price for that. She knew what it was like to have something you wanted taken away, but this time she wouldn’t be the one dealing with failure. Let the other guy fail.

  So what was she doing hiding in the bathroom? A tough cookie would go right out there and stare down this local Romeo. She’d let him know that he didn’t stand a chance in hell of getting that property, so he might as well give up right now.

  She opened the door, but she was still hidden by a partition that screened off the back area of the office.

  “I got held up yesterday afternoon!” Sean said. “I would have come by, but—”

  “You had your chance in the morning.” Denise’s voice was tight with anger. “I thought we were working together, but you blew me off. And by the way, I’ve never seen you in those glasses. Have you been wearing contacts all this time and nobody ever knew?”

  “No. I—never mind the glasses. You have to squelch this deal you have going. You have to do something.”

  “Too late, buddy-boy. And what’s up with your hair? It’s sticking out in ten different directions.”

  “To hell with my hair. Damn it, Denise, she can’t get that property! It’s not just me I’m thinking about, it’s Big Knob. That SaveALot store will ruin—”

  Maggie walked out into the office. “Hello, Sean.”

  He cleared his throat. “You…found out my name.” He’d shaved and made some attempt to get his hair to behave, but until he got a decent haircut there was no hope for it. Of course, she should talk.

  “Yes, I asked Denise who you were.” You are the enemy, and I will crush you like a bug. “For your information, I am going to buy the property, and it will bring jobs and more tourist traffic to Big Knob. There may be a few people, like you, who aren’t in favor of the project, but rest assured that many people will love the idea. So back off.”

  Chapter Five

  Sean wondered how anyone as hot as Maggie could say such things to him. Women usually…but this wasn’t usual. He didn’t look the way he used to, and he had a hard time remembering that.

  He glanced at Denise. No help there. She was convinced he’d snubbed her yesterday, and today he didn’t have his macho sex appeal working to soften her up. She would be overjoyed to help Maggie buy the property out from under him.

  That meant he had to work on Maggie…somehow. So far he was batting zero. First he’d scared her to death and just now he’d dissed her pet project. “Tell you what,” he said. “Let’s get a cup of coffee at the Hob Knob and discuss this.” Belatedly he remembered to tack on another inducement. “I’ll buy.”

  Yesterday any woman he approached with that offer would have fallen all over herself snapping it up. Maggie seemed completely unimpressed with the invitation.

  Behind her trendy little glasses, her blue eyes remained steely with resolve. “I’m afraid there’s nothing to discuss. I’m planning to make an offer on the property as soon as Denise tracks down the owner.”

  Sean turned to Denise. “Have you done that?”

  “I’m pretty sure I have.”

  Desperation gnawed at him. “Will you at least tell me who it is?”

  “No. It would compromise my agreement with my client, SaveALot, Inc.”

  “Damn it, I’m your client, too!”

  “We never had a client agreement.” Denise lifted her chin. “To be honest, most of the time you did your level best to sabotage my efforts.”

  “That’s because you were stringing me along, hoping you and I would end up—” No, wait. He shouldn’t say that. He needed to be charming to Denise if he wanted information. Too late. She’d already figured out what he’d almost said, and he could see the steam coming out of her ears.

  “I think you’d better leave,” she said.

  This wasn’t good. He needed to convince at least one of these women to support his cause, preferably the redhead with the drop-dead figure. He wanted her to give up on the property. He also wanted her to like him enough to go out with him.

  He gazed into her eyes and almost lost track of what he’d been about to say. Finally he remembered. “Have you had breakfast?”

  The question seemed to startle her. “No, but—”

  “Then come over to the Hob Knob and let me buy you some. They make the fluffiest scrambled eggs in the world.” He detected a spark of interest for the first time ever. “And cinnamon rolls to die for.”

  She ran her tongue over her lips.

  He picked up his cue. “They serve them warm, so the frosting melts and oozes down into the roll, which is loaded with butter, sugar and cinnamon. They use really fresh raisins, too, and they get all plumped up in the heat.”

  “No fair,” Denise said.

  Maggie swallowed noisily. “I’d love a cinnamon roll.”

  “Then let’s go.” He recognized Denise’s coat, so the trench coat must belong to Maggie. He grabbed it off the rack and held it for her while he avoided looking at Denise, who was sending out kill vibes.

  “Maggie, do you have a cell phone?” Denise said out of tight lips.

  “Yes.” Maggie transferred her hold on her purse so she could shove her other arm into her coat. Then she rattled off her phone number.

/>   Ordinarily Sean didn’t have a good memory, but that phone number stuck in his brain as if it had been super-glued there. He’d need the number as he navigated the next few days.

  “I’ll call you when I get the information.” Denise’s words had icicles dripping from them.

  “Thanks, Denise.” Maggie headed for the door. “I hope you’ll excuse me, but I didn’t have much dinner last night and I’m starving. Want me to bring you a cinnamon roll?”

  “No, thank you.” Denise made it sound as if Maggie had offered her a cow patty.

  Sean held the door for her and followed her outside, where weak sunlight was beginning to dry up the puddles. Sean remembered hearing about a guy who’d thrown his coat down across a puddle so that the woman of his dreams wouldn’t muddy her feet. That seemed a bit extreme, but he could at least take her arm and steer her around the worst parts.

  She shook him off. “Thank you, but I’m perfectly capable of crossing the street by myself.”

  “I knew that.” He was so busy watching how the pale light touched her cheeks that he stepped in one of the puddles he’d been trying to help her avoid. He had on work boots so his feet didn’t get wet, but the cuffs of his jeans did.

  As they started across the street, he kept expecting women to show up, begging for his attention. They always did when he was out in public. But nobody called out to him. Nobody drove by and propositioned him. He almost wished they would, because that might impress Maggie.

  Maybe whatever had been in the brandy and the chocolate cake had messed with those pheromone things Ambrose had been talking about. Apparently without his full quota of sex chemicals, women weren’t drawn to him like before. That was exactly what he’d asked for, to be left alone, but he didn’t like it as much as he’d expected to.

  Instead of attracting every female within his range of vision, he was the one feeling the heat every time he looked at Maggie. In a way, he hated to take her into the Hob Knob. Every guy in there would be gawking and hoping for a date. If Sean had anything to say about it, they wouldn’t get the chance.