“Okay. I agree,” Joy said, smiling. “Just wanted to be sure everyone had thought it through. We’ll invite her next week.”
Chapter Twelve
“I’m really excited,” Joy said, rubbing her hands together. She’d dressed up in her beige wide-legged pants and a form-fitting silk blouse. Her hair was bound in a stylish twist, and Hope thought she looked like an entirely different person than the one who’d shown up at her house in yoga pants a couple of days before.
“You look great,” Hope said as they walked across the square toward Magical Touch.
“I think I just needed a few days to get used to my new reality. It’s not like Paul was ever home much anyway, right? Now I don’t have to cook him dinner or do his laundry. Honestly, it’s been a relief to tell you the truth.”
Hope eyed her suspiciously. It was obvious that she was trying to convince herself, and Hope wasn’t going to challenge her on it. If that’s what she needed to do in order to adapt to her new reality, then Hope was all for it. “Have you decided what you want redecorated? Just the bedroom?”
Joy shook her head. “Nope. I’m going for the living room, dining room, and my bedroom. Paul and I picked out the furniture I have now fifteen years ago, and you know I’ve always hated the dark hardwood. No one should have dark wood at the beach.”
“I certainly agree with that.” Hope was joining her so that she could try to get a read on Vincent Valencia, the new designer in town, and as long as she was there, she’d check in on his partner Walt Waterman too. If they didn’t raise any red flags, she’d leave Joy to it and move on to the other two people on her list, Lanie Barnes, the freelance writer, and Crosby Quinn, the painter. She still thought it was a waste of time, but it had been a couple days since she’d done any work on trying to find the source of the drugs in Premonition Pointe. And since she couldn’t stop thinking about the young man who’d overdosed at the café, she felt she had to do something.
“Hey, are you excited about your date tonight, or are you freaking out?” Joy asked.
Hope sighed. “I have no idea.” She paused out in front of Magical Touch. “Do you think I’ve lost my mind accepting a date with Lucas? He’s broken my heart twice. I’m just setting myself up to be hurt again, aren’t I?”
Joy grabbed her hand and held it between both of her own. “I don’t think you’ve lost your mind. If you ask me, you and Lucas are soul mates. I don’t know if that means you’re destined to be together or not, but I do know you’ll always be in each other’s lives one way or another. It’s okay to explore what that might look like.”
Hope blew out a breath. “I think I’d die if I had to see him date someone else.”
“If he does, just kick him in the junk, rendering him defective. That would teach him,” Joy said with a smirk.
“That would be one way to handle it,” Hope agreed with a nod. “Is that what you did to Paul after he told you he was done?”
“Ha! I would’ve, but he’s already defective. So I didn’t waste my energy.” She pulled the door open and strode in.
Hope followed her friend into the studio and didn’t know if she should laugh or cry. It made her so angry the way Paul had treated her friend. If he’d agreed to counseling or even tried to meet her halfway, that would’ve been one thing. But he’d just given up on her and their marriage. Joy deserved better.
“Oh, hello,” Serena said, glaring at Hope. “I didn’t realize you were going to be here today.” If Vincent wasn’t already pissed at me, I’d throw that man-stealing rat out right on her ass, the redhead thought.
Hope cracked a smile, and in an achingly sweet voice she said, “I’m so sorry about your plans tonight. I guess Lucas didn’t realize you were asking him out. Better luck next time, huh?”
Serena gripped her pencil so hard it actually snapped in two.
“I have an appointment at ten,” Joy said.
“Ahh, here she is,” a man sang out from behind them. “Walt told me you were like a ray of sunshine. Look at you, so chic. I can’t wait to see what we can do for you.” He held his hand out to Joy. “I’m Vincent. And it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Oh, you’re a charmer, aren’t you? I’m Joy Lansing, and this is my friend Hope Anderson.” They all shook hands, and then Vincent ushered them into a conference room where Walt was waiting with a couple of champagne flutes.
“Good morning, ladies. It’s been a while, hasn’t it, Hope?” he said, already reaching for a champagne bottle.
“It has. How have you been?” Hope had organized a few holiday events for Walt in the past.
“Good. Mimosa?” He held the champagne bottle up.
“If you’re having one,” she said.
“Of course.” He turned to Joy. “One for you as well?”
“Definitely.” She grinned, and for once, Hope thought she really did look happy. “Today is all about celebrating new beginnings.”
Walt poured three glasses of mimosas. After he passed two of the glasses to Hope and Joy, he held his up and said, “To new beginnings.”
They toasted with him, while Vincent mimed toasting with an invisible glass.
“No mimosa for you this morning, Vincent?” Hope asked.
“None for me,” he said, cheerily. “Sixteen years sober. I’ll celebrate later when we break out the cupcakes.”
“Cupcakes? Where?” Hope insisted, glancing around.
He laughed and opened a pastry box and handed her a fancy pink cupcake with a sugar daisy on top.
“You are my new best friend,” Hope said, taking the cupcake and abandoning the mimosa.
“You’re my kind of girl,” Vincent said, grabbing his own cupcake and joining her. Once he bit into the sinful treat, his eyes rolled to the back of his head and he thought, This is perfection. Design, new friends, and sugar. It’s the perfect way to start the workday.
Hope loved him instantly. “I wasn’t kidding about the new best friend crack. You’re stuck with me now,” she said.
He chuckled. “And here I thought I’d never know the way to a woman’s heart.” He winked at Walt, who smiled at him. “I’ve been working on pleasing that one for the last two years.”
“Is that how long you two have been together? Romantically, I mean?” Joy asked.
“Yep,” Walt said. “I finally convinced this one to move up here a few months ago, and life has never been better. Hiking in the woods, walks on the beach, shopping for fabrics on Sunday mornings. Now if I can just talk him into that King Charles Spaniel I’ve always wanted, then life would be perfect.”
“Oh, Vincent, let the man get a dog,” Hope said, giving him her best puppy dog eyes.
Vincent groaned. “You can’t be my new best friend if you’re gonna take Walt’s side on this. All I wanted was some time to settle in before we add a puppy to the mix.”
They continued to banter about puppies, until finally Joy interrupted and insisted they get to work on redecorating her home.
It didn’t take long for Hope to determine that the two older designers had about as much chance of being involved in the drug business as Joy did. After she gave her opinion on a couple of Joy’s choices, she excused herself and made the rounds of the town.
The painter, Crosby Quinn, turned out to be a quiet man who rented a room above a garage, and in addition to painting seascapes for the North Star Gallery, he also drew caricatures on the square on the weekends for extra cash. Lanie Barnes was a young twenty-something who shopped at the secondhand clothing store and clipped coupons just to make her rent while trying to build her portfolio as a freelance writer.
By the time Hope got home, she’d made zero progress on the drug investigation, but she’d purchased one of Crosby’s paintings and had traded Lanie a one-hundred-dollar gift card for Pointe of View Café in exchange for any information she could dig up on possible drug dealers infiltrating Premonition Pointe.
“Hope, is that you?” Angela called the moment Hope walked in her front door.<
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“Who else would it be?” Hope called back as she headed into the kitchen to make herself a cup of coffee.
Angela appeared in the doorway of the kitchen and crossed her arms over her chest. “There’s no need to be snappy. I just wanted to say hi.”
Guilt washed over Hope like it did so often when she was dealing with her mother. She didn’t know how to curb her irritation with Angela. It seemed all her mother needed to do was be present to set Hope off. “I’m sorry, Mom. That was uncalled for.”
Angela moved into the kitchen and reached for the cookie jar. “Don’t worry about it. I know we’re still adjusting.”
Part of the issue was that Hope didn’t know exactly what she was adjusting to. “Uh, Mom?”
“Yeah?” Angela took a bite of the chocolate chip cookie and rested her elbows on the counter.
“What’s your plan?”
“Plan for what?” she asked.
Hope rolled her eyes. She knew by now that her mom was almost always listening in on her thoughts.
“I think you need to say it, Hope. Or we’re never going to move past this stage. Don’t assume I always know what you’re thinking. I might hear some things, but I don’t hear it all and I don’t want to assume anything.”
“Fine,” Hope blurted. “How long are you staying?”
“Here in Premonition Pointe or here in your house?” she asked.
“Both.”
A flicker of pain flashed in her mom’s eyes, but she stood up straight and said, “I’m back in Premonition Pointe permanently. As for how long I’m staying here, that all depends on you.”
Hope groaned. “Can’t you just give me a straight answer? What depends on me?”
“I’m here until you don’t need me anymore.” She smiled serenely at Hope and started to move toward the living room. “Oh, one more thing.”
“What’s that?” Hope asked, practically seething. What the hell did ‘until you don’t need me anymore’ even mean?
“I was at Bird’s Eye Bakery this morning, and I overheard something I think you might be interested in.”
Hope raised one eyebrow and waited her out.
“I didn’t see who it was because the place was very busy. But I overheard someone worrying about the overdoses, and then they said they were trying to find a way to get out of the business. It seemed very much like, whoever this person is, he or she doesn’t want to be involved and is maybe being blackmailed or forced into it.”
Hope blinked, trying to take in what her mother had just said. “You heard this, but you have no idea who it was?”
“That’s right.” She walked into the living room, and Hope was certain she projected her next thought. If you want my help to track this down, all you have to do is ask.
Hope sat on one of her kitchen stools, knowing she should call her mother back right that instant. Even though Angela hated her ability and it had turned into more of a disability than an asset, the truth was she had an extraordinary skill. Over the last week, Hope had learned that it took work for her to hear people’s thoughts. In fact, after actively trying to listen in on their thoughts, she was left feeling drained.
But her mother? She didn’t even need to try. In fact, for her it was the opposite. She had to actively try to block thoughts, or she got overwhelmed.
“Oh hell,” Hope muttered under her breath. Then she called out, “Mom?”
“I’m headed to the beach,” Angela called back.
Hope shook her head and couldn’t help the tiny smile that made her lips twitch. Her mother was going to make her work for it. “Do you want company?”
Her mom appeared in the doorway again. “Are you actually offering to take a walk with me?”
“Yes.” Hope nodded, hating that her mom looked so surprised and so hopeful. Had Hope really been so bad that it was a surprise that she was willing to spend any time with her mother at all? There was no question. The answer was yes. She’d let her resentment get the better of her and hadn’t taken the time to try to understand what had happened from her mother’s point of view. She hadn’t wanted to; she was still too hurt.
“Okay then. Ready?”
“Yep.” Hope put her coffee mug down, grabbed her sweatshirt, and joined her mother on her walk to the beach. They were quiet until they were walking barefoot along the seashore. Hope zipped up her hoodie, trying to keep warm in the cool breeze, and said, “I owe you an apology.”
“No you don’t, bunny,” Angela said, slipping her arm through Hope’s.
“That’s generous of you, but we both know it isn’t true. I should have filled you in on the drug issue in town instead of just letting you read my thoughts, and I should’ve asked for your help.”
Angela stopped in her tracks. “You want my help?”
“Yes. You hear everything. If anyone can crack this, it’s you.”
Her mom chuckled. “You know I get overwhelmed with thoughts, right? It’s not like I can go out all day and listen to everyone. I’d lose my mind.”
“But could you go for an hour a day? To the café or the bakery? And just keep a mental ear out?” Hope asked.
Angela gave her daughter a slow smile and then pulled her into a tight hug. “I’d love to, Hope. Anything for my girl.”
Chapter Thirteen
Nerves had Hope anxiously pacing her living room. It was five minutes to seven. Five minutes until Lucas was supposed to show up to take her to dinner. What had she been thinking, agreeing to this date? Their history proved that she couldn’t stay away from him. The last time he’d come back, they’d ended up in bed together after only twenty-four hours. At least this time she’d managed some semblance of self-control. But how long would that last? She’d already proved to herself that she wasn’t going to let another woman take her spot by his side.
She sighed and smoothed the fabric of her black wrap dress. It did wonders to show off her curves and made her feel sexy and confident. At least she wouldn’t be self-conscious about the way she looked or the few extra pounds she’d put on over the years. Normally she never worried about those things. But he’d known her when she was a teenager and a vibrant, active twenty-something, and at forty-six, there was no way she’d be living up to her former youthful appearance.
The knock on the door startled her out of her thoughts. She sucked in a cleansing breath and went to greet the love of her life.
Hope opened the door to find Lucas standing on her porch wearing black jeans and a blazer over a black Nirvana T-shirt. If that wasn’t enough, he was holding a bundle of daisies. Memories flooded her brain of the night he’d taken her out on their first date. He’d shown up in the very same outfit, holding the very same flowers, and had told her that night that one day he was going to marry her.
Tears stung her eyes, and she forced herself to blink them back even as her heart melted into a puddle of goo. This was too much.
“Good evening, Hope,” he said, leaning in and kissing her on the cheek. “You look fantastic. Even better than you did at seventeen.”
She shook her head slightly, doing her best to climb out from under his spell. “You’re playing dirty, King.” She waved a hand up and down, indicating his outfit, and then eyed the flowers. “Do you think this is charming?”
Yes, and so do you, he thought as he nodded.
Dammit. He was right. It was really effing charming. She wanted to step right into his arms and kiss the hell out of him. Instead, she took the daisies from him and spun on her heel, not even bothering to invite him in.
She heard his footsteps behind her and wasn’t surprised. They were way past formalities. “Let me just put these in some water and then we can go.”
“No rush. The reservation is for seven-thirty.”
As she filled a vase with water, she watched him from the corner of her eye. He hadn’t been in her house in five years. She wondered what he saw. Did he notice the changes she’d made? The cottage hadn’t been much when she’d purchased it over ten years ago,
and she’d slowly but surely been having it remodeled and updated. She was proud of her little space that was just a few blocks from the beach. Of course she’d always wanted a house with land, but she wasn’t going to be able to afford that in Premonition Pointe while running an event planning business.
“Your kitchen is cozy, Hope,” he said, glancing around. “I love that farmhouse sink and butcherblock countertop. I was thinking of putting something similar in my house.”
She tilted her head and studied him. “Remodeling, huh? Are you doing a lot of work on your house?”
He shrugged. “If it’s going to be my forever home, then yes. If not, I’ll only do what’s necessary to resell.”
“If?” Hope tensed. “So, how long are you staying in Premonition Pointe this time?” The words were clipped and came out sounding much more hostile than she’d anticipated.
He frowned and shoved his hands in his pockets. “I thought I was clear that I was planning to stay here for good. Why else would I open a retail storefront?”
“But you just said you didn’t know if the house would be your forever home. Why wouldn’t it be? It’s gorgeous.” In fact, Hope had always wanted the very house he’d bought. If she’d had the resources, she’d have scooped it up herself.
He stared down at her and gave her a slow smile. “I think we both already know that I bought that house because of you.”
It was her turn to frown. He was right. She did know he’d purchased that house because of her. How many times had they talked about living there together when they were younger? She wasn’t dense. It was all part of his plan to try to get back together with her. But she wasn’t going to acknowledge that. Not now. Not yet. She wasn’t ready. “You bought it because you needed a place for you and your mother.” He’d moved back to town because his mother had early stage dementia. “How is Bell by the way?” Hope asked, feeling like a jerk for not asking sooner.
He gave her a look that said he knew exactly what she was doing, but just like her, he let it go for the moment. “She’s doing fairly well. The doctor has her on a new medication that’s helping her retain her lucidity. She gardens and paints a lot these days. And we got a golden retriever. They take walks around the property. Her friend Hattie stays with her a lot when I’m not home. They’re having girls’ night tonight.”
Witching For Hope: Premonition Pointe, Book 2 Page 9
