by Diana Orgain
Maeve picked up the receipt and read the note. Thank you, Maeve. She smiled. It warmed her heart to know she’d done some good for the Whittaker family.
Maeve, Gracie, and Donnie got to work, serving up pastries, drawing leaf patterns in the frothy steamed milk, and waiting tables. The café crowd was excited to see Nathan and his buddies, and a few people even bought the Navy boys some additional drinks. Just as the crowd began to settle down, the door to the café opened again, and a man Maeve didn’t recognize entered.
Evidently, every other person in the café knew the man, because whatever conversations people had been in the middle of abruptly ended. The sudden quiet made the music seem too loud.
Everyone stared in the man’s direction.
Maeve’s breath caught as the man removed his hat and stepped inside.
The man’s eyes narrowed, and he glared at Bobby Farley who was sitting at the booth nearest to the door. “What are you staring at, Bobby?”
Bobby Farley broke eye contact. “Nothing, um, Christian … it’s good to see you back in town, is all,” Bobby stuttered.
The man, Christian, rolled his eyes, and his scowl softened. He took off his hat and gazed over Maeve’s head at the menu listed behind the counter, studying it intently for a moment all the way from the doorway.
“Who is that?” Maeve whispered to Gracie who was standing beside her.
“That would be Christian Delany,” Gracie said in a hushed tone.
“Delany?” Maeve questioned. “As in-”
“As in Eleanor Delany’s ex-husband,” Donnie muttered from the other side of Maeve. “He skipped town after the divorce.”
“Well …” Maeve grumbled. “I’m certainly meeting a lot of new faces today.”
Christian approached the counter with a scowl on his face, but he lightened up a bit when he spotted Gracie. “Gracie,” he said to her.
“Christian. Good to see you. It’s been a while. What brings you back to Wisteria Pines?” Gracie asked.
“I received a subpoena to appear in court,” he said and then looked directly at Maeve. “Now I get to go and talk to a bunch of strangers about my ex-wife’s affair.” He chuckled.
Maeve couldn’t tell if he was frustrated or enjoying the fact his ex-wife was behind bars. It unsettled her not knowing where he stood on the matter.
“How about a scotch?” he asked, then added, “To celebrate.”
Maeve poured him a drink as he pointed at one of the chocolate chip muffins on display. “That looks good. Give me one of those. I haven’t eaten all day.”
Maeve placed the muffin on a plate and handed Christian his order. He nodded at her, then wiggled his way into the crowd. Maeve watched curiously as Christian spoke to some of his former neighbors. The man seemed to go back and forth from being legitimately saddened by his ex-wife’s arrest to overwhelmed with vengeful satisfaction.
Apart from the discomfort that Christian’s appearance seemed to have caused, the night went on without a hitch. Eventually the orders stopped coming in, and patrons dispersed one by one.
All except for Chuck Lowry.
Chuck hadn’t budged despite the lights dimming and the coffee machine being shut down.
Donnie swept and mopped the floors and cleaned up the back. Gracie dipped out to take her niece home, so only Maeve, Donnie, and Chuck remained.
“Don’t mind me,” Chuck said as Maeve helped Donnie clean up shop. “I’m just nursing the last of my drink if that’s all right.”
“No, no, go right ahead,” Maeve insisted.
Soon, though, they had completed their closing duties. Maeve nudged Donnie who looked like he was about to fall out from exhaustion at any minute. “Go on home, Donnie. I got this.”
“You sure?” he asked in a whisper. “That guy seems kind of creepy to me.”
Maeve bit her bottom lip to keep from laughing. “I’m good, but thank you for the concern.”
Donnie grabbed his things and left, glancing over his shoulder on the way out. “I’ll be in early tomorrow morning, Ms. O’Dare.”
Maeve looked at Chuck and sighed.
Being alone with me after closing is probably exactly what Mr. Hollywood wanted.
Chuck smiled at her. “I’ve got to say, Ms. O’Dare, I’m quite impressed. What made you go from Hollywood songwriter to coffee shop owner?”
Maeve froze. “I’m sorry?”
Chuck sat upright. “What, you think I didn’t recognize your name?” Chuck asked. “Die! You Cheating Dog is a personal favorite. Let’s see … you also wrote Choke on that Lie and I’ll Never Get Over You. Those are some of my all-time favorites.”
Maeve cheeks burned, and realized she was blushing.
Don’t you dare, she scorned herself.
Chuck Lowry was obviously the type to hit on every other woman he came in contact with. She would not allow herself to fall for his charm. “Why, yes, that’s me … I mean, those were my songs.”
“You have a pretty impressive group of artists you’ve sold to,” Chuck said, sliding his now empty glass to the edge of his table for Maeve to grab. “I’m impressed.”
“You really knew who I was?” she asked.
“What can I say? I’m a fan of your songwriting–the edginess of your lyrics does it for me,” he tipped his head to the right and graced her with a crooked grin. “I always look for an O’Dare original. Though it’s been a while since you’ve put anything out. My agent wanted me to release a CD a while back. You were at the top of my list of potential writers.” He shrugged. “It was a ridiculous publicity stunt that ended up imploding. Thankfully, because I’m more of an actor than a singer. If you know what I mean.”
She grabbed the glass. “I don’t know what to say. Thank you. Really.”
It was hard to believe that someone like Chuck Lowry knew her or that he had considered hiring her for a CD.
“You should be proud,” he said, smiling a rather charming smile.
Maeve stared at him for a moment. He wore a goofy looking silk button up shirt. Her ex, Frank, had one exactly like it. With her free hand, she reached out and brushed the tip of her fingers to the collar.
Chuck’s chest puffed up at her touch.
She jerked her hand away.
Crud, he thinks I’m flirting, she thought.
She scrunched up her nose. “Uh … my ex has that exact same shirt.”
It’s hard to imagine anyone other than Frank being snobbish enough to think they could pull that look off.
Chuck frowned. “Well,” he said, looking her up and down. “Your ex has good taste, but I already knew that.”
Maeve crossed her arms. Slow down there, buddy, she thought.
She crossed to the barista station and put his glass into the dishwasher. Chuck rose and came around the counter to help her, his hands bumping into hers as she reached for the detergent.
“You don’t have to do that,” Maeve said.
“I insist,” Chuck said, lifting the commercial sized tub for her. “Besides, I’m the one who kept you here late, right?”
He’s a Hollywood boy, Maeve reminded herself as Chuck continued with the flirty banter.
When Maeve had completed all the final tasks, she said, “It’s been a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Lowry.”
“You know, Maeve, I would love to buy you some lunch or get some coffee. I’m only in town through tomorrow,” he said.
And there it is, Maeve mused. “Sorry, Chuck, but I’m working.”
Chuck winked at her and took an uncomfortable step forward. “Well, that’s a shame.” He held out his hand, and she went to shake it. Instead of a shake, he clasped her hand between both of his. “I could have sworn I felt … a little magic between us.”
Chapter Two
Chuck
I’ve been looking for someone–no one in particular–just someone … anyone, who could reverse the curse. And I found her. Call it luck or call it fate, but I found her. I sit in the corner of her café, watching her a
s she happily darts back and forth from customer to customer. It is opening night of Listen: It’s Old Fashioned, and half of the town is excitedly filling up the joint. That’s my girl.
For the past month, I’ve been living as this woman’s pet. Her cutesy little doggie, Wanda. Not tonight, baby! I’m all man, tonight. No fur, no doggie drool, no panting, no dog breath, no fleas, no ticks, no strange and unrelenting desire for someone to scratch me behind the ears! Not tonight, folks! I am me once more.
Penny, the young niece of one of my darling Maeve’s friends, sits in the window seat near my table. She keeps whispering to that stupid cat of hers and occasionally glancing my way and giggling. I smile. Making nice. The girl thinks I’m a hero for bringing her cat up here to the café. I suppose it’s nice to be adored even by a little fan, so for now I’ll smile and wave whenever she glances over.
The cat, whom I unaffectionately call Fuzzball, hops out of the little girl’s lap and comes over to my table. “So what are you going to do, Wanda?” Fuzzball asks me, hopping up into the chair across from me. I grumble to myself as I try to ignore her. “I know you can understand me, Wanda. Don’t ignore me.”
“It’s Chuck,” I say in a whisper, and I notice a slight dog-like snarl in my voice. I clear my throat.
Penny is suddenly right beside me. She smiles brightly. “Thank you for saving my kitty,” she says, and I nod.
“No problem, kid,” I say, my eyes still lingering on Maeve.
Penny picks up the cat. I’m not looking at her, but I can tell the kid is staring at me. It’s flipping weird, the way she is standing there next to me petting her cat. She’s not freaking blinking! I feel like I’m being sized up by a Care-Bear version of the Godfather.
“I know who you are,” she says, and I almost choke on the muffin I’ve just ordered.
I have to sip my Irish coffee to keep from gagging. “Excuse me?” I question, wondering if this little girl knows my secret. I’m not sure if that would bode well or poorly for me.
“Busted!” Fuzzball exclaims.
“You’re Chuck Lowry,” she says. “You’re on that really bad TV show.”
Well, isn’t she a little charmer, I think to myself as I realize she didn’t mean that I was Wanda, but that she recognized me from television. I smile. “Oh, come on, it’s not that bad?”
“My mom says that show flopped,” she says. “She says it was because the acting was so bad.”
I frown. “Why don’t you go sit on your little seat over there by the window, kid?”
“My name’s Penny,” she says.
“I know who you are, Penny. Now beat it,” I say, and she giggles and hurries back to where she had been seated moments ago. She keeps staring at me. I do my best to ignore her and focus on Maeve.
There has to be a way to make Maeve realize who I am without actually telling her, right? Maeve is the only witch I’ve managed to find, but she doesn’t even know it! Somehow I have to find a way to make her realize she’s a witch so she can help me, but I can’t say it! I can’t actually tell her I’m her cursed pooch. Or at least that’s what that she-devil who cursed me said. Telling would be against the rules. Maeve already knows that Wanda has something special going on after I barked up some magick to help her take down that crazy woman, Eleanor, who was trying to kill her. But she hasn’t said anything about it to anyone.
Maybe she thinks she imagined it? Who knows? But it’s a step in the right direction for her to have seen something like that, I suppose.
I watch Officer Sparkly Eyes leave, and I’m relieved. That man is some serious competition, I can tell. I’ve already played it all out in my mind how this breaking the curse thing is going to go down. Somehow I’ll reveal to Maeve who I am, she’ll practice with her newfound magical abilities, and then I will be all man again all the time. And I do mean all man. When she realizes I’ve been her four-legged bestie this whole time, she and I will get close. Really close.
I mean, I am me, after all.
There’s some rather interesting characters here tonight. The dead girl’s brother and his fellow Navy buddies and the ex-husband of Crazy Eleanor. What a laugh! What’s fun is everyone in this café thinks I’m just some stranger probably on my way somewhere else. They don’t know I’ve been living among them for the past month, learning the local gossip. I bet I would freak them all out with all the information I know about them that I learned as Wanda, Maeve’s trusty sidekick.
Sidekick … I like that … though I’d definitely like to be a lot more than that.
That’s when it hits me! I know how to win Maeve over. I know about her. A lot about her! She was a songwriter. And I’m a celebrity. I wonder if I could make her gush if I pretended to recognize her? Oh, yeah. This is happening. I glance over at Penny who is still staring at me. “Hey, kid, come here,” I say.
She jumps up, cat in arms, and comes to stand by my table. “Yes, sir?” she asks politely and gives me a little girly grin.
“Do you have a phone? One with internet access?” I ask.
“No, but my aunt does,” she says, pointing toward Gracie who is currently having a minor freak out about ruining her sexy red top. Apparently, a customer spilled coffee or something on her, and she’s scrambling for napkins.
“Do you think you could do me a favor and borrow your aunt’s phone so that I can look something up?” I ask, attempting to smile brightly at her. I’m more used to talking significantly older women into doing what I want. This little rug rat is a different story.
“Are you going to steal my aunt’s phone?” she asks.
“What! No!” I exclaimed. “I got lost coming into town and need to look up a map.”
“Oh,” Penny says and plops Fuzzball into my lap. “Be right back!” She skips off toward the counter over to Gracie. The two of them exchange a few words, and then Penny points in my direction. I awkwardly wave at Gracie, and the woman frowns. However, I notice she does hand the phone over to Penny.
“What are you going to do with the phone?” Fuzzball asks.
“None of your business,” I say to the cat, and someone at the next table turns and looks at me like I’m crazy. I lower my voice and whisper to her this time. “Stop talking to me. People are going to think I’m nuts.”
“You are nuts. You were a dog a few hours ago,” Fuzzball retorts as Penny makes her way back to us.
I wave a thank-you at Gracie from across the room, and she nods in my direction. I tap at the phone and type Maeve O’Dare into the search engine. After taking a moment to memorize the names of her songs, I google myself.
Surely Hollywood is going nuts wondering where I am. Much to my disappointment, the only thing I can find is information on Jenny Loves Charlie rerun dates. This can’t be right. I slip out for a moment to make a phone call. I know someone is missing me.
While standing outside, I call up my agent. The guy, I imagine, is having a freak out wondering where his big shot is. I actually manage to get him on the phone, but he’s dismissive. “Chuck? Haven’t heard from you in a while,” he says.
I know I can’t tell him anything about the curse. For one, he would think I’m crazy, and for another Selena, the witch, told me I’d croak if I did. “Yeah, sorry. I’ve been out of town,” I say. “You know, visiting family and …”
“Chuck, listen,” the man says. “I figured you’d gotten my notice since you haven’t called me in a month. I dropped you.”
“What!” I shout. Not exactly what I was expecting to come of this phone call. “What do you mean you dropped me?”
“New clients. That sort of thing. No hard feelings, right?” he says, and then he mumbles something, and I suspect he is talking to someone else in the room with him.
“No hard feelings!” I exclaim, and he hangs up.
Unbelievable!
My next thought is to call my mother. The woman is probably worried sick trying to figure out where I am. I should definitely give her some sort of excuse to settle her mind. My mom�
�s voice answers, “Chuckie! You know better than to call me this late,” she says.
I frown. “Uh … yeah, well … I haven’t spoken to you in like a month, so-”
“Really? A month?” the woman asks. “Didn’t you come see me on your birthday?”
“That was over a month ago!” I say. Did she forget when my birthday was?
“Okay, and? Have you been drinking?” she accuses.
“No!” Well, yes, technically I have, but … “Never mind, Mom,” I say. “I was checking in.”
“Alright Chuckie, next time call at a decent hour.”
She hangs up, and I stare at the phone in my hand. Wow. Literally no one has missed me. Not even my own mother. That one stings. I wish I hadn’t called anyone.
I return the phone to Penny and tell her to thank her aunt for me.
I really need another drink after that phone call with my mother. I order myself one and wait. Slowly but surely, the place starts to clear out—including my little minion, Penny, and her kitty-cat assistant. The lights dim, but I remain seated. Soon it’s just me, my lovely Maeve, and the little punk she hired. I hear her whispering with the kid for a minute before he leaves, and Maeve gets back to work.
Time to put on the charm.
I can see that she’s quite annoyed that I’m still in the café, but I suspect she won’t be soon. Time to put my game plan into action.
“I’ve got to say, Ms. O’Dare, I’m quite impressed. What made you go from Hollywood big shot to coffee shop owner?” I ask as she passes my table.
“I’m sorry?” she asks, and I can see this befuddled look in her eye.
I put on the charm. It’s mostly small talk at first about her songwriting, but I can tell I’ve got her attention. Her cheeks flush a beautiful shade of pink.
It’s so cute that she’s embarrassed because she thinks I’ve “recognized” her.
I talk her up, telling her I’m a big fan.
I smile big–ladies love my smile. I’m hard to resist.
I can tell I really have her eating out of the palm of my hand with the all the flattery I’m dishing out.
