Your Broom or Mine?: Magic and Mayhem Book Eight

by Robyn Peterman

  However, not all of it was serious. Zach and I learned how to cheat at cards, and Fabio made me laugh till I almost cried while telling stories about his great love, Baba Yaga.

  Of course, I knew who she was, but had never met her. Baba Yaga, the leader of the witches and warlocks, instilled a healthy fear in everyone, but Fabio’s adoration of the most powerful witch in the Universe made her seem so normal—in an abnormal way. I couldn’t wait to meet her.

  “So, Willow,” Fabio said, sitting down at the table after heaping Zach’s plate with enough pancakes for a small army. “Have you located your nards yet?”

  I was glad I didn’t have food in my mouth since I choked on my reply. “Umm… no, but I’ll find them,” I assured him.

  “I don’t think you ever lost them,” Zach said, looking at me with so much love in his expression, I blushed. “You have enormous magical hairy beans.”

  We’d run into a conundrum last night at bedtime. As much as we’d wanted to share a room, the time wasn’t right yet—there was still more work to do and we had our sessions with Roger soon. Instead, we’d made out in the hallway like teenagers until we were busted by a delighted Fabio. Going to sleep knowing Zach was across the hall was incredibly difficult, but in the end, I’d slept… and dreamed of my handsome warlock.

  When the time did arrive, it was going to rock our world.

  “You know,” Fabio pointed out thoughtfully. “Not sure why anyone would want testicles when a vagina is so much stronger.”

  “Umm… Fabio,” Zach said with a wince. “Not really breakfast table talk.”

  Fabio raised his hand and grinned. “Hear me out. The slightest flick to the nards can send even the strongest man to his knees. Whereas a vagina can push out an entire small human. In my book, balls are much weaker than the bits you were born with, Willow.”

  My mouth hung open and my eyes grew wide. Yes, it was seriously embarrassing to have a conversation about vaginas and testicles with the father of the man I was in love with, but he’d made a shockingly good point.

  Did I even need balls?

  “Wow,” I muttered when I could find my voice. “That was profound—a little graphic, but profound.”

  Fabio laughed. “I’m good like that—very dangerous at parties, though.”

  “Maybe your umm… parts are your lady balls,” Zach said, as his cheeks reddened a bit. “I’d have to agree with Fabio that nuts are overrated.”

  “And quite unattractive,” Fabio added, clearing our plates. “Lady bits are lovely.”

  “You can stop any time now,” Zach said with an eye roll.

  “Whoops,” Fabio said. “This is why no one wants me at parties.”

  “Rightly so,” Zach said, chuckling. “You have no filter.”

  “Comes with age,” Fabio agreed. “So, we have rehearsal this morning?”

  “You’re coming?” I asked.

  “Indeed, I am,” he replied with a wicked little grin. “As the former artistic director of the Assjacket Community Theatre, I have every right to be there. And this Mae Blockinschlokinberg seems like she needs a few hard truths explained to her.”

  “I like it,” Zach said, standing up and stretching his muscular body in a way that made me ache to jump on it. “Are you comfortable with me calling you Fabio in public?”

  Fabio beamed. “I’ll answer to anything you’d like to call me,” he promised. “You wouldn’t believe the names I’ve been called over the years.”

  “Actually, I probably would,” Zach said.

  Fabio grinned from ear to ear. “Fine point. Well made. Shall we go?”

  Snapping my fingers, I replaced my dress from yesterday with a sharp, lime green Stella McCartney mini dress.

  “Hang on!” Fabio squealed as he sprinted out of the room.

  “What just happened?” I asked Zach.

  “No clue,” Zach replied with a grin. “He’s insane.”

  “And pretty great,” I added.

  Zach paused for a moment and stared at his hands. “Yes. He’s pretty great.”

  Fabio flew back into the room with a gorgeous chocolate brown leather Birkin bag that made my mouth water. “For you! It will be fabulous with that dress.”

  I wanted it so badly, my fingers itched, but… “I thought that was for Zelda.”

  “Darling Willow, I procured six. I always have a few extras lying around. Never know when I need to gift a beautiful bag to a beautiful gal.”

  “Define procure,” Zach said dryly.

  “Literally or figuratively?” Fabio questioned.

  “Forget it,” Zach said, taking my hand in his. “Did you leave brownies?”

  “I most certainly did,” Fabio said grandly. “Six dozen. One dozen for each bag and I added extra nuts.”

  “You’re extra nuts.” Zach shook his head and sighed in amusement.

  The rich, soft leather of the bag was heavenly in my hands. Giving Fabio a quick kiss on the cheek, I grinned at Zach. “I’m sure his brownies are as delicious as his pancakes. I think it’s a fair trade.”

  Zach pulled me close and kissed me. “Are we ready to face the day?”

  “We are,” I said, my lips already missing his. “Shall we poof over?”

  “Yep, let’s poof,” Fabio said. “It’s faster.”

  And poof we did.

  We poofed right into a shitshow of epic proportions.

  And not the one we’d expected.

  Chapter Twelve

  We arrived to a surprise and not a good one.

  “I heard it sucked!” a woman gleefully and maliciously called across the room to another.

  “Can’t wait! I just adore mass humiliation,” her nasty buddy shouted back.

  Shit. Something was very wrong—tree-mendously wrong. My stomach clenched, and I glanced around in distress for my friends. Not one was in sight.

  The large hall was packed with people, wall to wall—at least two hundred. Some milled around and gossiped viciously while others had seated themselves in anticipation of I didn’t even know what. It was ex-tree-mely unsettling. There was a rabid excitement and the aroma of flop sweat in the air that didn’t bode well.

  Fabio took in the crowd with a perplexed expression. “Is it possible that Mae Blockinschlokinberg added hundreds of cast members to Jaws: The Musical? Or, perhaps, she replaced all of you.”

  “Doubtful,” Zach said as he steered us away from a trio of sour-faced witches and avoided getting us tripped by a group of jerky Shifters who were sticking their feet out then laughing hysterically when someone went down.

  “What the heck is going on?” I asked, pushing through the rude crowd trying to reach the stage. It was a bummer to realize Assjacket had unpleasant citizens. Up until now, everyone had been awesome.

  “Don’t know,” Zach said tightly, grabbing my hand and drawing me close so I didn’t get swallowed up in the masses.

  Fabio paled to the point I thought he might pass out. “No. Oh Goddess, no, no, no,” he choked out, pointing to the group seated in the front row. The seats were filled with umm… men—or at least I thought it was men—wearing make-up, black turtlenecks, berets and unattractive smug smiles.

  They held court for a bevy of screaming fans, signing autographs and posing for pictures.

  “Who are those… women?” Zach asked, putting his arm around his father so he didn’t drop to the ground like a sack of potatoes.

  “Not women,” Fabio said in a hushed and horrified tone. “It’s the Tennessee Man-Titty Thespians.”

  “That’s actually what they’re called?” I asked. I was sure Sassy had made that one up.

  “Look at them,” Fabio hissed. “Of course, they’re called the Man-Titty Thespians. I’d recognize those enormous man knockers and berets from a mile away. You’d think they’d have the decency to wear bras, but nooooo. Who could have done something so dastardly? This will ruin the Assjacket Community Theatre. Bob will be devastated. I’m not sure he’ll recover from this kind of humil
iation.”

  “Wait,” Zach said, trying not to laugh while expertly navigating us toward the stage. “Men with boobs and berets can ruin Bob’s life?”

  “Zach,” Fabio said, quickly pulling us to the backstage area and out of the mob of strangers. “Yes, those men with over-sized mammaries can wreck poor Bob’s life. It seems small and quite honestly humorous, but you have to realize that Bob lives for his art. He’s dreadful, but it fulfills him in a way nothing else other than his unibrow can. When I directed the musical version of Mommie Dearest, I came to a few realizations. One, Mommie Dearest was a terrible choice for a musical, and I never should have cast Bob as Christopher. The beaver had such stage fright he refused to step one foot out of the wings. Sassy covered for him, but that’s a story for another time and will require copious amounts of alcohol to rehash. Number two, there’s exquisite beauty in mediocre or no talent at all if the passion behind it is true. Bob’s passion is from his heart. Will he ever be on Broadway? Goddess no, but he’s free to stink up the stage in Assjacket and be adored like a movie star by everyone in town—everyone who loves him for who he is.”

  “Got it,” Zach said, no longer smiling. “However, I still have no idea what’s happening and why all these people are here.”

  Fabio peeked from behind the curtain and out at the full house. “I don’t recognize any of them. It’s bizarre.”

  “They’re not Assjackians?” I asked, wildly relieved that the revolting assemblage wasn’t from these parts.

  “Not even one,” Fabio said.

  I looked around. “Where do you think Bob and the gang are?”

  “Let’s check the dressing rooms,” Fabio said.

  “There are dressing rooms?” Zach asked, confused.

  Fabio nodded and beckoned us to follow. “Of course, there are. They double as food storage for the Shifter daycare the rest of the year, but we use them as changing rooms when we do shows. It works out nicely. Lots of applesauce and cookies if you get hungry.”

  “Wait,” I said, pulling both men to a halt. “Mae Blockinschlokinberg had to have done this to get back at Bob. She was furious about being fired so she invited the who’s who of the community theatre world to demolish the reputation of the Assjacket Community Theatre. My guess is that she’s going to force us to perform.”

  Fabio gasped and leaned against the wall. “Is there even a show to perform?”

  Zach laughed. It held no trace of humor in it. “Hell to the no.”

  We stood in silence and plotted.

  “We have to get rid of the audience,” I said.

  “You’re right. Want me to pull a fire alarm?” Zach suggested.

  “No,” Fabio replied. “Once they realize it’s a hoax, they’ll come right back in. Those man-titties are out for blood.”

  “Well, crap,” I said, trying to think of something else. “We could try poofing them away, but there are an awful lot of people out there for the three of us to poof.”

  Zach nodded. “Plus, we have no clue where they came from. Don’t even know where to poof them back to.”

  “We could send the Tennessee Man-Titty Thespians to a clinic for breast reduction surgery,” I said, then slapped my hand over my mouth. “Sorry, that was mean. They might be lovely people.”

  “They’re not,” Fabio assured me with a chuckle and a bit of a naughty gleam in his eye.

  Crap. I hope he didn’t make the knocker removal a reality. I’d feel terrible. Mean or no, if they loved their man bosoms, they should be able to keep them.

  “Any other thoughts?” Zach asked.

  “Yes.” Fabio looked at me as a smile began to pull at his lips. “Go sing to them, Willow. Send them on their way. If you truly want nards, this will earn them for you.”

  My eyes widened and I laughed. Fabio was as dastardly as Mae Blockinschlokinberg, but in a much more hilarious and creative way.

  Zach gave me a confused look. “I thought you couldn’t sing. When Roger asked, you said you couldn’t.”

  “Actually, I said I shouldn’t sing,” I reminded Zach. “I can sing, but the results are kind of…”

  “X-rated,” Fabio finished my sentence.

  Zach’s brow raised with interest, and he waited for an explanation.

  “Dryads descended from Sirens,” I explained hastily. “If I sing, I can make the entire crowd uncomfortably… umm…”

  “Horny,” Fabio supplied as my face heated in embarrassment. “And if they’re horny and have even a shred of decency, they’ll skedaddle on out to scratch their itch in private. It’s a win-win. If I used magic, I’d be tempted to pop the Tennessee Man-Titty Thespians bosoms like ticks due to Willow’s outstanding idea. But I suppose just because they’re vulgar, braless, rude and wearing berets doesn’t mean they should be disfigured. However, it would be greatly satisfying, especially since the bastards panned my last show.”

  Fabio had a little bit of Sassy’s talent for colorful rants. Zach and I were speechless for a brief moment.

  Finding my voice to reinforce Fabio’s decision not to pop the man-knockers, I complimented him. I didn’t want to be responsible in any way for deflated bosoms. “I think that’s very big of you to let the thespians keep their boobs.”

  “Yes, I agree,” Fabio said with complete sincerity. “You’ll sing, then?”

  “It’s safe for you to do that?” Zach asked, worried, yet still intrigued by my newly discovered talent.

  “Yep,” I replied. “It’s my choice if I want them to be aroused by me or by others.”

  Zach’s ears had perked up along with his interest. “And what happens if you choose yourself?”

  I wanted to melt into the floor. Zach’s father was present. This was all kinds of weird.

  “Umm… I don’t know,” I admitted. “Never tried it.”

  Fabio backed away and pretended to find something on the wall fascinating. Of course, he could still hear us, but it was the polite thought that counted.

  Zach turned to me and pressed his forehead to mine, his hands resting on my hips. “I’d be willing to be your first test case,” he said, sending tingles all through my body.

  “I believe that could be arranged,” I replied, wanting to jump his hot bod and kiss him senseless.

  However, now was not a good time.

  “Raincheck?” I asked with a lustful glint in my eyes that matched my warlock’s.

  “Definitely,” he replied. “Soon.”

  “We done here, kids?” Fabio inquired with a huge grin.

  “Umm… yes,” I said with a giggle. Snapping my fingers, I conjured up noise-canceling earphones for Fabio and Zach. Making them horny was counterproductive to our plans. “Put these on,” I instructed. “This won’t take me but a minute.”

  “My Goddess,” Fabio gasped out, his eyes still filled with tears from laughing. “Never seen anything quite like that.”

  Zach shook his head and grinned. “I’m going to have to get some extra sessions with Roger to wipe that out of my brain.”

  Slapping my hands on my hips, I glared at the dummies and tried not to laugh. “They’re gone. Right?”

  “Definitely gone,” Zach said, scrubbing his hands over his mouth to hide his shock and amusement.

  It had literally taken only one verse of Sexual Healing by Marvin Gaye to get the crowd sprinting out of the building to find a hotel room. Thankfully, Assjacket didn’t have a hotel and the stimulated horde had to leave town if they wanted to alleviate their symptoms with any amount of privacy.

  Of course, the desperate dash out of the community center was a comedy of errors. The Tennessee Man-Titty Thespians blacked a few eyes of the other patrons with their braless bosoms in the race to find relief. Several of the vicious gossipers, who I was fairly sure were unacquainted, were swapping spit with each other as if their lives depended on it. Served them right for talking smack about the Assjacket Community Theatre. I choked with laughter as I watched a Thespian dive straight through a glass window since there
was a backup of humping Shifters at the door. Honestly, singing was a handy weapon that I’d never used all that much.

  As far as gaining nards from it… I’d have to say I didn’t. However, I was no longer searching for my magical hairy beans. I had something even better. My va-jay-jay was far superior.

  “Should we find our people?” Fabio suggested, wiping a stray tear of laughter from his eye.

  “Yes,” I said, quite proud of myself. “I’m worried.”

  “Hey,” Zach said, pulling me back as Fabio marched toward the dressing rooms. “I want you to sing for me.”

  I raised my brow and crossed my arms over my chest. “I need to sing to get into your pants?”

  “All you need to do is breathe in my direction, and I will happily give you my pants and anything else you want,” Zach replied with a wink. “I just thought it would be fun.”

  “Deal,” I replied, grabbing his hand and following after Fabio. “As soon as you love yourself, I’ll sing to you.”

  “Getting there,” Zach informed me with a lopsided grin. “I can truthfully say I like myself.”

  Life was good and definitely getting more interesting.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Bob was bald, unibrow-less, and as pale as a ghost.

  Roger wasn’t faring much better. His nose twitched a mile a minute, and his body trembled.

  Sassy flew around the food storage/dressing room on her broom in complete agitation while Mae Blockinschlokinberg screamed like a banshee and her icky minions stood off to the side taking pictures.

  Zorro was nowhere to be found.

  “When I told you I couldn’t be fired, I meant it,” Mae Blockinschlokinberg snarled. “I will take you down along with this terrible little town.”

  “Not so fast,” Zach growled as he strode into the room, interrupting the vicious dressing down in progress.