“The pool really is more my speed,” Hope said, leading the way up to Gigi’s house. “Too bad none of us have one. Can’t you just see the three of us at our cabana while the pool boy wanders around?”
Maybe I should put in a pool. Use Paul’s money and hire my own pool boy. Maybe the sexy neighbor a few doors down wants a part-time job. Then I wouldn’t need a Tinder date, Joy thought.
Hope suppressed a snicker but turned and gave her two thumbs up.
“Hope!” Joy exclaimed. “Stop reading my thoughts. That’s just…” She squeezed her eyes closed and shook her head. “Dammit.”
“Oh, I wanna know what dirty thing she was thinking,” Grace said, excitement dancing in her eyes. “Was it about a pool boy?”
Hope nodded, this time not bothering to hold back her laughter. “Yep. She’s thinking of putting in a pool with Paul’s money and hiring the sexy neighbor to service her… uh, pool.”
Grace cackled. “I’ll be over every day at six. And as payment, I’ll keep your bar stocked.”
“Stop it,” Joy said, laughing with them. “I’m sure the pool boy would be some slightly overweight family man in his fifties, so let’s not get too crazy. But I really am considering the pool. I’ve always wanted one, but Paul said it’d be too much work. Now that he’s moved out, he doesn’t get a say.”
“Good for you,” Hope said as she knocked on Gigi’s door.
“Yeah. Let me know when you break ground,” Grace added. “We’ll celebrate.”
“Damn straight we will.” Joy held her head high and had that look of determination again.
Hope loved to see it. Paul had been bringing her down for far too long. Joy deserved to do something to make herself happy.
The door swung open, and Gigi Martin grinned. “Grace! You made it.” She pulled Grace into her gorgeous home. “Hey, Hope. Joy. Follow me. I have drinks out on the deck.” Thank the gods. People to save me from these jackholes, Gigi thought.
Hope leaned in and whispered to Joy, “She hates her neighbors.”
“Really?” Joy whispered back, her eyes wide.
“Yep. Let’s go shake things up.”
“On it.” Joy swept through the French doors out onto the deck and headed straight for the booze.
Hope glanced around and spotted a handful of middle-aged men dressed in Dockers and polo shirts. She imagined all they talked about were their stock portfolios and golf scores. Woo-effing-hoo. This was going to be one dull-ass party. Joy had the right idea.
“What’s that?” Hope pointed to Joy’s pink drink.
“I have no idea. Tastes like vodka and raspberry. Want one?”
“Sure.”
Joy poured her one of the pinktinis and then another for Grace, who was being monopolized by Gigi. Grace took the glass and mouthed thank you before turning her attention back to their hostess.
“Let’s do this thing,” Hope said and eyed a group of five men.
“Where are all the women?” Joy asked. “I didn’t realize we were walking into a sausage fest. No wonder Gigi was desperate for a little estrogen.”
Hope snickered. Joy was on fire today. Hope was impressed at how she’d rallied after learning that her husband was moving out. It was probably really good for her to have something else to focus on. “I think we’re about to find out.”
“Well hello there, pretty ladies.” A tall man with the build of a linebacker greeted them. He had short blond hair and the kind of smarmy smile that screamed douchecanoe. He scanned Joy, and his expression morphed into the kind of leer Hope had seen on just about every frat boy she’d ever encountered at a college party. Yoga pants. I’d like to get her into a downward facing dog, he thought.
Hope wanted to gag. Yep, he was one hundred percent douchebucket.
“Hello, I’m Joy, and this is Hope,” Joy said, holding out her hand. “Who might you be?”
“Your date on Friday night.” His grin was way too cocky, and everything about the guy gave Hope the creeps.
“Oh, really? I wasn’t aware I’d been asked,” Joy said, her tone suddenly icy.
Pride swelled in Hope’s chest. Joy had been knocked down today, but she wasn’t out. And she certainly wasn’t going to take this guy’s crap.
The man chuckled as if he were used to women pushing back at him. “I like you. Great shirt by the way. I’m Brent Card, owner of the house three doors down. The one with a Maserati out front. Feel free to stop by if you’re interested in a dip in my hot tub.”
“Why would I do that when Gigi has one right here?” Joy waved at the hot tub in the corner of the deck.
“Oh, it’s like that, is it?” he asked, raising one eyebrow.
“Like what?” Joy shot back.
“You like to play hard to get. No problem. I’m up for the challenge.” He started talking about his VP sales job at a Bay area pharmaceutical company. Hope focused on him and did her best to open her mind to him. His thoughts were one hundred percent about how great he was. Then as he scanned Joy, he thought, Surely, once I show her my house and the view from the master bedroom, she’ll melt for me just like all the others.
Hope wanted to gag and actually contemplated pushing him over the deck railing. But there were too many witnesses, and he wasn’t worth the hassle of prison. He was so shallow and full of shit that Hope couldn’t help wondering how his blue eyes hadn’t turned brown yet.
Hope leaned over and whispered to Joy, “As cringeworthy as this guy is, I don’t get the sense he’s into illegal drugs. Are you going to be okay if I go talk to the others?”
Joy nodded and went back to humoring Brent. Hope was sure she’d get around to asking about the overdoses in town to see if he had anything to say about them.
“Excuse me,” Hope said to him. “It was nice to meet you, but I’m going to mingle.”
The man barely acknowledged that Hope had said anything and turned his attention back to Joy.
Hope bypassed the other frat boy look-a-likes and made her way over to three men who were leaning against the porch railing and laughing at something one of them had said. One of them was in jeans and a short-sleeved button-down shirt, one had ripped jeans and a form-fitting T-shirt, and the third wore cargo pants and a long-sleeved cotton shirt. They appeared much more down to earth and approachable. “Hello. I’m Hope Anderson, a friend of Gigi’s.”
“Oh, aren’t you adorable,” the shortest one with the ripped jeans said, eyeing her. “That cut is fantastic. Who did it?”
Hope smiled at him. He had a genuine smile and bright green eyes that sparkled in the sunlight. Hope liked him instantly. “Lance over at Liminal Space Day Spa. Do you know him?”
“No. Pete and I purchased our vacation home last fall, but this is the first chance we’ve had to spend any significant time here.” He slipped his arm around the sexy six-foot guy next to him who had a close-cut beard and dark eyes. “We just got here a few days ago, and Gigi was kind enough to host this gathering.”
“Hi, I’m Pete,” the bearded guy said. He nodded his head toward his partner. “And this is my husband Skyler.”
“Hi, nice to meet you both.” She shook their hands and then glanced at the third guy, who was wearing the cargo pants. He was tall and thin with a strong jawline and kind blue eyes.
“Hi, I’m Troy,” he said.
“Hope. I assume you all live on this street?” she asked.
They all nodded. “Pete and Skyler have the modern gray house at the end,” Troy said. “Mine is the three story with the multiple decks right next to theirs.”
Hope was impressed. Besides Gigi’s Victorian, they were the two nicest homes on the block, and she couldn’t help wondering what they all did for a living that they could afford beach front property.
“None of us do,” Hope said, waving a hand toward her friends. “Grace is the realtor who sold the house to Gigi. Joy is the vice president of the Arts Market, and I’m an event planner. So if you need someone to organize a birthday, anniversary, ho
liday party, or something like that, I’m your girl.”
“Oh, really,” Skyler said, stepping closer to her and slipping his arm through hers. “We definitely need to talk.”
“Here we go.” Pete rolled his eyes and turned to Troy. “Wanna bet this is about a dog wedding?”
“You mean he was serious about Polly and Drew tying the knot?” Troy asked, looking intrigued. “I thought that was a joke.”
“It was, but you know how he is. When he gets something in his mind, things start to escalate,” Pete said, shaking his head.
“If we’re going to have puppies, then I think they deserve a ceremony,” Skyler insisted. “Right, Hope?”
“Sure.” Hope chuckled. “What were you thinking? Beachside?”
“Oh, heavens no.” Skyler placed a hand on his chest, looking scandalized. “Have you ever seen a shih tzu at the beach? The sand is a nonstarter. I was actually thinking a ceremony on the cliff, overlooking the sea. Maybe bring in a gazebo or a trellis. Or, oh I know, how about a couple of dogwood trees?”
“All decent possibilities,” Hope said, completely amused. She’d organized all kinds of parties before, but never a dog wedding. “Why don’t we set up an appointment to get together and see what we can come up with?”
“Yes, let’s.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and opened his calendar. Then he laughed. “I’m so used to meetings and deadlines that I keep forgetting that we don’t have anything planned while we’re here for the next month or so. According to this, I’m free any day.”
“Except Friday nights, remember?” Pete said, running his thumb down the back of Skyler’s neck.
Skyler flushed as he looked up at his husband and gave him a tender smile. “Friday’s, right.”
“No problem. I don’t usually work on Friday nights either.” She winked at them. “Gotta have some time to play, right?”
Skyler nodded. “Date night. That reminds me, where do you recommend for awesome seafood?”
“Abalone,” Troy said immediately. “It’s a new place, very fresh. The parmesan crusted halibut is my favorite, but they have great fish and chips, too.”
Hope nodded. “I’ve heard nothing but good things about them. Make sure you get a reservation though. It’s the hot place to be these days.”
Skyler tapped a note into his phone. “Abalone. Got it.”
They made an appointment for Monday to discuss details of the dog wedding, and then the four of them stood there awkwardly until Hope said, “So. You guys know I’m an event planner. What do you three do for a living?”
“Pete’s a personal finance manager, and I’m a designer,” Skyler said. “I have a store in San Francisco and one in Los Angeles. Women’s wear and some custom gowns.”
“Skyler works very hard, but I finally convinced him to take some time off. So while we’re here through October, there will be no work,” Pete said. “Just beaches, puppies, and enjoying the outdoors, right babe?”
“Of course. I promised, didn’t I?” Skyler leaned in and hugged his husband.
“That’s very cool,” Hope said. “Do you have an online store? I’d love to check it out.”
Skyler handed her a business card. “While you’re at it, make sure you take a look at Troy’s stuff too. He’s a photographer, and his new shots of the coast are incredible.”
“Really?” Hope turned to Troy. “Do you show your photos professionally?”
“Yeah,” Troy said with a modest shrug. “There are a few galleries in the city that carry them. But I have a pretty good following online and sell a lot of prints through my website. It’s easier than dealing with art galleries.”
Hope desperately wanted to know his story. How could he afford a three-story, beachfront house in Premonition Pointe if he was selling prints from his website?
“Oh. My. God!” Skyler exclaimed. “Stop being so modest.” He rolled his eyes at the photographer. “Troy’s work has been in every magazine from here to Paris. He photographs celebrities for national covers. That’s how we met. My clothing line was featured in Off the Rack Magazine, and Troy did the shoot. He’s actually the reason we ended up buying in Premonition Pointe. We did the shoot on the beach here and fell in love with the town.”
“That’s fantastic. So Troy, you’ve been here a while. I’m surprised I haven’t seen you around,” Hope said.
“I spend a lot of time in nature behind my lens,” he said.
“Isn’t that the truth.” Skyler shook his head. “But don’t worry. We’ll get him out and about. Maybe find him a date. Do you know any eligible locals we can set him up with?”
“Sky…” Troy said with a sigh.
“Um… male or female? Or does it matter?” Hope asked.
“Oh, definitely female,” Pete said. “We made the mistake of trying to set him up with one of our friends last year, and let’s just say it did not go well.”
“That’s because you told me it was for a photoshoot,” Troy said, glaring at Pete. “If you would’ve asked me first, I’d have told you I’m into women.”
Pete threw his hands up. “How was I supposed to know? You had all those photos of half-naked men.”
“That was work for an LGBTQ publication,” Troy told Hope.
“Sounds like your work is well-rounded,” Hope said, truly fascinated.
“I’ve heard that before.” Troy focused on Pete. “How’s your work going? Are you taking time off while you’re here, too?”
Pete started talking about still being available for his clients but that he was planning to take as much time off as possible. Then they moved on to discussing the financial markets.
Hope feigned interest while she tried to concentrate on hearing their thoughts. She was starting to feel predatory as she actively tried to spy on them, but the idea of someone else overdosing was worse.
She focused on Troy while Skyler complained about how much time Pete spent on the computer. An image of a young man posing on a balcony flashed in her mind. He was shirtless, his hair windswept and his eyes sleepy as if he’d just woken up. The image was replaced with one of a young woman posed on a rock wearing nothing but an oversized sweatshirt. More models entered his mind, and Hope decided he was planning upcoming shoots.
She shifted her attention to Pete and was rewarded with thoughts of him carrying Skyler back to their house where they could be alone. She shut down her telepathy instantly and told them how nice it was to meet them and that she’d see Skyler next week.
She spent a little bit of time talking to Brent’s cohorts. She learned they were friends of his and staying in his house, and they were just as douchey as he was. When she jokingly brought up the idea of them reliving their frat days and teased them about indulging in booze and drugs, they laughed along with her. Then one of them asked if she had a hookup. By the time she left them, she’d had to fend off one who was getting handsy and dodge the request for her number from another one. But as problematic as they were, there wasn’t any evidence that they were part of a drug ring.
“Hope, there you are,” Grace said when Hope found her chatting in the kitchen with Gigi and Joy. The men had finally left, and it was just the four women remaining in the house.
“You three left me alone with the sausage fest,” Hope said, pointing a finger at them. “Not cool. Not cool at all. What happened to our promise about no girl left behind?”
“I tried to get your attention, but you were too busy flirting with Ken,” Joy said.
Hope scoffed. “Okay, first of all, I wasn’t flirting with anyone. And second… Ken? Are you kidding me? One of those frat boys was named Ken?”
Gigi laughed. “Yep. Ken, Brent, Rip, Todd, and Dawson. Unbelievable, right?”
Hope shook her head. “Yes and no.”
They all laughed.
“My hat’s off to you, Gigi,” Hope said. “It’s really something to host a party when you know those dudes are going to show up.”
She scoffed. “I invited Skyler, Pete, an
d Troy. Brent overheard and invited himself. Then he brought his bros.” Gigi shuddered. “Thank the goddess they’re gone. The spirits of the house weren’t too pleased with their presence. That’s why I made them stay outside.”
Well, that was interesting. Gigi’s house was haunted, but the spirits who occupied it had embraced Gigi. They had even stepped up to help her when her ex got violent. So Hope was inclined to trust their judgement. “What happened?”
Gigi shrugged. “When Brent and his boys walked in, the wind picked up, causing the door to slam, and then the house started creaking. It’s the warning sign that they are about to start some shit if the person they don’t like doesn’t leave. I quickly ushered them all outside. Haven’t heard a peep since.”
Hope made a mental note to do a deep dive into Brent and his boys. The spirits clearly knew something the rest of them didn’t. They made plans for the group to get lunch the next week, thanked Gigi for the cocktails, and made their way outside.
“Thanks for the backup,” Gigi called as they made their way to Hope’s car.
“Anytime,” Hope said, meaning it. She really liked Gigi, and once they were in the Highlander, Hope turned to her friends. “I think it’s time to invite her to the coven. What do you think? Should we talk to her about it at lunch?”
“I’m in,” Grace said. “I love Gigi.”
Joy took a deep breath. “I love her, too, but let’s be sure about this. Once we vote her in, there’s no voting her off the island.”
Hope nodded. Joy had a very good point. The coven was their sacred circle. It was a big deal to invite someone in. They needed to trust her implicitly. No one wanted to upset their circle.
“I’m sure,” Grace said. “I think she fits right in with us, and maybe more importantly, I think she needs our circle. After what happened with her husband when she bought this place, and how she gracefully handled it, I have so much respect and admiration for her.”
“Same,” Hope said. Gigi’s husband had attacked her right there in her new house when she told him she was buying it. She’d immediately filed for divorce and kicked him right out of her life.
Witching For Hope: Premonition Pointe, Book 2 Page 8
