by Casey Morgan
“People haven’t been coming in as regularly, but things are okay,” I told Jasper. “And no, I haven’t found anyone to love. Not to mention, anyone to knock me up.”
Things at the bar were not really okay.
As it is, if all of my employees show up—a few of whom were showing up now, but keeping a low profile because they knew I was on the phone— between their salaries, paying for fresh food and beer, I’m going to be out of money before the Harvest Festival even starts.
It was a mistake to even think that. To even let any of that enter my mind.
Because Jasper sucked in a breath, leaned into the phone and said, “Half right and half wrong. You’ve told me and the guys part of your situation, about the spell and how Mr. and Mrs. Asshole-rod pretty much fucked over all of the small business owners on your block, but you’re not telling me what’s really going on. How short on money are you?”
I gulped. Then I ran my fingers through my hair, feeling the heaviness of the situation. Even without us being on a video chat, I could see it now: Jasper’s bright green eyes and serious dark lips puckering at me, demanding to know why I evaded honesty, when that’s what our relationship was supposed to be built around.
“Gwendolyn,” he said, as if giving me a warning.
“A little short,” I said, feeling a bit short on breath.
That was the one thing I hadn’t wanted to admit to anyone— least of all myself— since the end of summer, when my brothers officially launched Spelled Ink. They wanted to offset the number of human-owned business in Luck’s Hollow with another one owned by paranormal creatures. But it was a bold move, since most of those couldn’t survive. I didn’t want to add onto the stress or worry.
“A lot,” he corrected, not sparing my feelings or his.
“You’re a lot short, Gwendolyn. Usually when you’re in big trouble is when you really start to minimize the scope of it.”
I held my breath, trying not to cry. Not because he was being mean or anything, but because he sounded so much like Grandmother.
“Okay, Jasper,” I said, putting my forehead in my hand. “Yes, I’m a lot short on what I need to keep running this place the way it should be run, okay? Happy?”
“No.”
Behind him, I heard the sounds of Holland and Crispin doing some kind of dare. A challenge with each other involving tattoo guns, and some vulnerable places on their bodies.
“I don’t like being right about this kind of thing, Gwendolyn.”
It got more rambunctious by the second on the other end of the speaker, and Jasper finally snapped. Got after them, saying for them to save that for the customers, and even then, without so much stupid shenanigans.
“Shut up, Jasper,” said Crispin, turning on the tattoo gun like it was a chainsaw.
“Put an X on his forehead,” encouraged Holland. “Or, better yet, some permanent eyebrows, so that when we shave them off he’ll always look fucking pissed.”
Laughter and joking followed, but Jasper wasn’t having any of it.
“You do that, and I’m going to ink the both of you out of the business. As partners and as people who are going to be working for me. Remember, this was my idea. You just brought in the talent. You were supposed to bring in customers, too, which I don’t seen many of.”
Inaudible responses to this came across the phone, but I couldn’t make them out.
What I did hear clearly was Jasper’s follow-up question to me.
“Do you need a loan, Gwendolyn?”
A pause. I could practically hear him pursing his lips.
“I can rearrange some things within the business. Take out a loan against some of our assets. It isn’t much, but it might buy you some more…”
“No, Jasper. No, you’re not doing that.”
My voice broke, along with my resolve.
“You’re not doing any of that for me. Your business is just getting started. You have barely any equity or assets that you couldn’t sell and be sunk yourself. And we both know that the competition is very fierce.”
Tears break out along my cheeks, cutting down out of my eyelashes. Already my mascara was running.
“I’m not taking a loan from you, or any of the other three, got that?”
Though he was nowhere in front of me, my body posture was ready to go to war with him if necessary. Though I knew he was doing what Grandma would have wanted him to do if I got in trouble like this, but I wasn’t going to stand and take it. She gave this pub to me to make it flourish, not to them. And I wasn’t about to prove Grandma wrong in naming me her successor.
“Got it, Gwendolyn.” He sighed irritably. “But you’ve got to understand where I’m at. We’re your brothers. I know you want to save the town, but you’ve got to be realistic. You’ve got to realize everyone gets beaten sometime or another. Everyone has to cut their losses.”
I was angry at hearing this from him, but I didn’t want to get into it with him. Not only because it wouldn’t do any good, except drive a wedge between me and my brothers, but because my phone was beeping with another incoming call.
“This isn’t a loss, Jasper, not yet.” I took a quick breath in. “And that’s not up for debate, now or ever. I’ve got someone else on the line. Love you, bye.”
I switched lines before hearing his reply. Something I felt bad about, but not as bad as the news I get from my incoming call.
“Hey, Gwendolyn, it’s Stephanie,” said my usual night waitress, a werewolf.
Oh, great. When she says it like that, it’s never good news. It’s always some random unfortunate event. I don’t have to wait long for it to be illuminated.
“Listen,” she continues, trying to sound as sweet as her dark-fairy makeup, “I really hate to do this to you, Gwendolyn, I really do, but I’m going to have to quit.” I don’t even bother to try to say anything, since I know she’s just going to continue on with whatever her excuse is. She proceeds with without any care, or any pause. “My dog ate a whole box of Girl Scout cookies, and he’s throwing up everywhere. I’m going to have to take him in to the emergency vet.”
Gordy, her boxer/pit-bull mix, who I was very familiar with, always found a way to get himself taken to the vet on the worst nights possible for me.
“But it’s not just that, Gwendolyn. Even if he wasn’t sick like this, and possibly needing a lot of medical care, I’d have to stop coming in.” Even without seeing her face, I could tell Stephanie was anxious. Guilt-ridden. “My life is not what it was a few months ago when I started working for you.”
“Fine, Stephanie. Get whatever new job will fit your life better.” I thought of Gordy. How sick the poor pup must be. “Give the big dope a kiss on his jowls for me and take him to get his stomach pumped. I’ll manage. I did before I hired you, and I’ll do so again.”
Stephanie sounded legitimately relieved and surprise. “Really? I thought you’d be way more pissed.”
“It’s fine,” I told her, feeling even worse for my lack of emotion.
It really was fine. Without her needing to be on payroll anymore, I might actually be able to afford to make it through the next few days. I might actually be able to keep my doors open long enough to take advantage of the Harvest Festival, before The Lucky Spell Pot fell too deep in the red.
“It really is. No hard feelings at all.”
“Oh, Gwendolyn. I don’t know what to say! I might have to miss tomorrow, too.”
“I said it’s fine, Stephanie. You don’t have to say anything. Worry about your doggie,” I said, hearing unmistakable retching sounds through the phone. “And hurry. He doesn’t sound well.”
About as well as my night’s going to go, anyway.
Already, I wasn’t not looking forward to how many empty seats there were probably going to be between now and closing.
“Okay,” said Stephanie, sounding grateful and overwhelmed. “Thank you so much for understanding.”
“Yep. No problem. I’ve got it covered.”
; “Thank you!” she said this before hanging up on me completely.
I hung up from this, stowing the phone in the front of my black apron.
Sure, I wasn’t happy about pulling Stephanie’s shift for her. What boss likes having to do extra work because of losing the hired help?
But I knew it was better this way. I’d save on Stephanie’s wages.
After all, who needed sleep tonight, right? Definitely not me!
Chapter Two
Alex
Reverb Tech, the business I started with my fraternal twin brother (we share the same birthday, but don’t look alike), and three other friends, was a shining accomplishment, literally and figuratively, in the emerging tech town of Love’s Hollow, New York. We were a symbol of where this humble, village could be headed if it embraced everything that technology had to offer. Everything that innovation could do to improve minds, lives, hearts and spirits. If applied cleverly. Playfully.
Over the last couple of years since college, all of us — my twin brother, and our three business associates — had really reached for the skies. The gleaming, swanky tower was proof of that.
The good amount of money we’d made off of our family’s money and had been able to turn into public good of immeasurable value, was a sight to behold.
Though I wasn’t one to get too bogged down in the way things must or should be, or too many rules, I loved to see it when my hard work pays off. When my visionary ideas and creativity are worth more than a good laugh.
So I was more than happy to put in a few extra hours at work tonight. Every night I could, despite my reputation of being a rebel and a clown. You needed a sense of humor in technology. Something my brother David has yet to learn the finer points of.
But it was something I was determined to help him see tonight, by getting us away from our usual watering hole of choice. Our swanky, exclusive bar, and to one a little bit more relaxed. I was sure Eric, David’s and my buddy from college, would call it “slumming” by taking such a trip. Such a dive from our normal routine, and affluent surroundings.
But I was fucking sick of so much high-class.
Besides, Travis, one of the other partners in our business, along with the third and last partner, Robert, first introduced me to it: the place I wanted to go. The Lucky Spell Pot, where I’d been a few times by myself. I’d enjoyed the atmosphere, and they served good beer as well—which was always a plus.
There was also a waitress I enjoyed looking at – Stephanie, a werewolf. I never hit on her though, because paranormal creatures and humans like me aren’t supposed to mix.
Tonight, though, I was determined for all of that to change. For her to come home with me after I paid the bill, in addition to breaking the rut my brother was content to get himself in.
Just to make things more interesting. Even just for one night.
I said as much to my brother, as I watched him finishing up at the computers. Probably sending off a few last-minute emails to potential clients.
“Hey browski,” I said, slapping him on the back.
Without even turning to look at me, he muttered, “Hay is for horses, Alex.”
I hated this phrase that he always used, leftover from our childhood. Absolutely fucking hated it.
Dear old dad used to use it with me all the time, any time I tried to have some fun or get him to relax a little bit. He never did relax, by the way. And he never did see any use in my humor or playfulness. Simply labeled it as obstinance and an authority-challenging disorder.
I smacked David upside the head.
“Don’t be such a tight ass,” I snapped.
Unlike my long red-blonde hair, his was expertly cut. Almost like he was in some kind of technological army. Software-developing battalion, and needed to always his best. The complete and total opposite of my longer, more laid-back, Hollywood-inspired, surfer-boy look. If only he was as fiery as our red-blonde hair, I wouldn’t have to be double the goofball.
“Listen, I want to get out of here. Out of our rut. How about you let me pick somewhere different for our Friday night drinks and eats?”
I leaned into his computer chair, threatening to spin it around and go “whee” for him until he agreed.
Just then, Travis Gordon, a business partner of ours who didn’t come from a wealthy background like me and my brother, but made his way with his brain and his ambition walked in. He was followed by Eric, the last of our partners.
Eric was an unexpected ally, he had been friends with the bastard who stole my brother’s girlfriend. The love of his life at the time, but Eric, a true wingman, put a stop to the deception, the two-faced behavior, earning him a spot in our founding group for this company.
“What’s this I hear about Friday night food and drinks?” That was Travis, looking cautious and excited. Already, he had the look of “bring it on” whatever that might be.
“I want to take you guys someplace new and exciting. Away from our typical social club, if you know what I mean.”
“I do,” said Eric, coming to stand in front of me first. “But I also don’t like that look in your eye. It holds unlimited potential, which you shouldn’t be given, under any circumstances.”
“Where exactly did you have in mind?” Travis again, pushing his medium-length black hair out of his face (I’ve teased him a number of times about looking like Oscar Wilde), and studying me. “If not the Black Diamond Club, where? I like it there. I know people. Know what to make of them, and they of me.”
Of course he would say that. He always did.
“You gotta get out and live a little. Take risks once in a while, you know?” I pressed.
From over at his desk, David groaned at me in surprise.
“Wow, and I never thought I would hear something so serious and responsible from you.”
In all of this time, he hadn’t ignored his emails or gotten distracted once, not even with all this conversation going on around him.
Eric chimed back in, sweeping back his long, chestnut hair. Out of all of us, he spent the most time on his luxurious-looking hair. As he did, he gave me a mischievous smile, somehow knowing the gist of my plans.
“It’s not as responsible as it sounds but it is just as fun.” He came over to me, throwing an arm over my shoulder. “Yeah, I’m in. All the way. It’s been a while since I’ve been in that neck of the woods, and I’m eager to head over to visit. Especially with this time a year rolling around.”
He gave me a look I didn’t quite understand. Mischievous. Heavy lidded. Lusty. Something in the middle of all that.
“Travis? You in? We’ll also make sure Eric and Robert come along, of course.”
“Not really sure what I’m getting into, but I suppose I’ll have no choice.” He pauses, damning me. “If your brother agrees with your little plan.”
I rolled my eyes, not even trying to avoid offending him this time. I knew he had his own demons, but I was one of those demons wrecking my heaven. My potential paradise, starring Stephanie, the waitress.
“Of course.” I stepped over to my brother again, squeezing his neck. Getting him to raise those already-raised shoulders even more. “Bro, work ended, like, twenty minutes ago, man. Time to pack it in and go. Can we go to the place I want to go to?” I asked him, knowing he wasn’t paying attention, and knowing I could and would definitely be taking advantage of this.
“Yeah, whatever,” he said, exactly like I was hoping he would. “Just let me finish.”
“You heard him,” I said, pointing at all of the guys. “You all heard David say yes to what I wanted, so remember that when he tries to do anything stupid.”
With that, I jogged out of the main office, hit the door frame on the way out like I always did in high school, and prepared myself to charm Stephanie out of The Lucky Spell Pot, and then out of her underwear and bra.
Chapter Three
Alex
Twenty minutes later, and I was almost in heaven at The Lucky Spell Pot, preparing myself for my first
sight of Stephanie in weeks, maybe months.
David, pissed at me for letting him agree to something he obviously wasn’t in agreement with, stalked to a table, dragging the other three guys with him. It was a table in between the bar and the rest of the restaurant. In more shadow than I would like, as I wanted Stephanie to have first dibs on serving us.
The only problem was, I didn’t see her working the floor tonight or anywhere else in The Lucky Spell Pot for that matter. This was a fact that made me momentarily sad, deflated in my heart and elsewhere.
Until, out of the back room, came a girl I had never seen before. A woman with immaculate red hair, slightly darker skin, and big, brown eyes. Almond-colored and shaped. She was even prettier than Stephanie, and I wanted her, bad.
Seeing our table, she immediately collected herself, stepped evenly around the bar, and came across the floor. In the waist pocket of her black apron, she had an order-taking tablet. It was an old school dark leather holder with lined paper, no high-tech stuff here.
Watching her, I took my seat at the table. One on the far end, since I was the last to sit down. But that didn’t matter to me. By sitting on the end, I hoped to get more of her attention. Have a chance to lock eyes with hers before anyone else did.
“Good evening, gentlemen,” she said, smiling at all five of us like we were gifts from God. “Thanks for coming into The Lucky Spell Pot tonight.”
As she spoke, she made eye contact with each of us. Individually. Not for more than a few seconds each, but since I was furthest, I was the last to savor her eye contact. Her mysterious, fleeting glance.
Unfortunately, though her eyes were all ours, her attention was quickly grabbed from me, and placed in the middle of the table. Thanks to Eric, who wasted no time in flirting with her.
“Thank you for serving us tonight, Miss. Haven’t been here in a while, so it’ll be nice to have some good food.”
“Some good company, too,” piped in Travis, being super obvious with his ogling. His appreciation of everything below her dark, full lips.
