I sighed, my eyes growing heavy. “I love you, Matthew. Now go to sleep.” And like a magic charm, it worked.
Matthew was still asleep the next morning, looking all luscious and tousled, when I slipped out from under his arm and put on my robe. I wanted to grab some coffee and make him breakfast in bed but came to a skidding halt when I saw Mom sitting at the island. She was sipping coffee and waiting for me, a pair of slightly muddy white undies in her lap.
“Good morning.” I went straight to the coffeepot, hesitating for only a moment before grabbing two cups. No point in hiding the fact Matthew slept in my bed. I was an adult. He was an adult. Mom, the most free-spirited, sensual, and accepting person in the world, adored Matthew and certainly wouldn’t have a problem with any of this.
It turned out I was wrong. On several counts.
She held up my undies with one finger. “I found these behind my rhododendron bush this morning, along with a used condom. At first, I thought they must have belonged to one of our naked pagans, but then I realized they were yours. Care to explain?”
I opened my mouth and closed it again, but no sound came out. Her face froze when she heard the sound of Matthew’s feet as he softly padded down the stairs. He wore his slightly crumpled white shirt and jeans, and his feet were bare. His face lit up when he saw me. It took him a second to realize my mom sat at the island with my undies in her lap. His cheeks turned instantly pink.
“Good morning, Claire.”
My mom stood up, set the underpants down on the chair, and walked outside. Matthew looked at me in surprise.
I slid my arms around his waist, kissing his neck. “You may have been right about your whole yin and yang theory. As soon as I acted just a little irresponsibly, she suddenly became super responsible. And a little snippy. Let’s give her a few minutes. I’ll talk to her later.”
Matthew’s eyebrows narrowed into a worried frown. “I don’t want to cause a problem between you and your mom.”
I didn’t tell him about the condom. I went up on my tiptoes to kiss him softly on the lips. “You aren’t. And good morning, by the way.”
“Good morning to you too.” He gave me a sexy smile as his arms wrapped around me. My body immediately responded. I sighed and pulled away. We’d already done the deed in my mom’s garden, in her tearoom, and in my bedroom. It wouldn’t improve matters if she caught us in her kitchen.
After a simple breakfast of eggs and toast, we sat together at the island, sipping coffee and talking. “I don’t know anything about you,” I said. “Where are you from? What are your parents like? Do you have brothers and sisters?”
He grinned. “You are full of questions this morning. I’m from Philly, but I’ve lived all over the place. My parents died in a car accident when I was small. I don’t remember them.”
I touched his arm. “Sorry.”
He shrugged. “My grandfather raised me, and he’s wonderful. I don’t have any brothers or sisters, but I have cousins and lots of good friends. Sometimes they feel like family to me.”
“I grew up thinking I had tons of aunts and uncles. It wasn’t until I got older I realized I wasn’t related to any of them. Mom and I are kind of alone in the world.”
The sun peeked in through the kitchen window, bringing out the flecks of green and gold in Matthew’s eyes. He brushed a lock of hair behind my ear, and his face grew suddenly serious. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
The bell on the front door rang, and Kate came stomping into the kitchen in search of coffee. She froze in her tracks when she saw Matthew and I cozied up at the island, a huge grin spreading across her face.
“Looks like somebody had fun at summer solstice last night.”
I winced. “Sorry, Matthew. She has no filter. Good morning, Kate.”
“Good morning, lovers.” She poured herself a cup of coffee and wiggled her eyebrows at us. “Don’t be embarrassed. You do realize the ‘Great Rite’ is part of the whole Midsummer thing, don’t you? Eliza will make a good little pagan of you yet.”
She went back to the front room, and Matthew looked confused. “Is the ‘Great Rite’ what I think it is?”
“I believe so. What we were doing behind my mom’s rhododendron last night.” I glanced out into the garden. “Speaking of my mom . . .”
Matthew stood up and kissed the top of my head. “I’d better go. I have some errands to run. Can I see you later?”
I stood up and pulled him close. “Yes. But give me a real kiss before you go.”
Matthew cupped my face in his hands and kissed me until my toes curled. When he let me go, I felt a little dizzy. I looked up at him, blinking as I tried to compose myself. “Wow.”
Matthew didn’t look altogether steady himself. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
I was almost scared to face my mom at first. I found her sweeping up the ashes from the bonfire and putting them into garbage bags. She didn’t look up when I approached, but she did speak to me. A good sign.
“The Wiccans gather the ashes from their summer solstice party every year and use them as a charm for protection and also for performing magic spells. I promised Eliza I’d collect the ashes this morning. Do you mind dropping them at the courthouse for me while I make lunch?”
“Sure. Can we talk about what happened in there?”
We sat down on a bench. She wore jeans and an old tie-dyed T-shirt. Ash covered her hands, and she had a spot of ash on her face. I waited quietly for her to collect her thoughts. When she finally spoke, her voice sounded tiny and lost.
“I don’t want you to make the same mistakes I did.”
I looked at her in surprise. “I’m not.”
Her blue eyes filled with tears. “Yes, you are. You had sex in the garden, behind my rhododendron, after getting drunk at a pagan ritual. You were in a public place. What’s going on with you? You’re turning into me.”
I shook my head at her convoluted logic, took a deep breath, and spoke to her calmly. “I wasn’t drunk, but the rest is pretty accurate.”
She brushed a bit of ash from her jeans. “I know you hate the word, but is there any chance you might love Matthew, Fiona?”
I didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”
Her eyes grew huge in her face. “Really?”
“I don’t know if it was the unblocking of my chakras or the tarot card reading or the magic of that silly old fountain, but something has changed. I love him, Mom. I’m sure.”
She smiled. “I like him, Fiona, but I saw the way things were going and was afraid you would end up a mess and alone. Like me.”
I put my arms around her and gave her a hug. “You aren’t a mess, and you aren’t alone. You have me, and you always will.”
The ash filled two garbage bags, but it was easy to carry. The courthouse was only a few blocks away, so I slipped into a short dress the color of sunshine and nearly skipped the whole way to deliver the ashes to Eliza. Joy filled me so completely I thought I might burst. I loved Matthew, and he loved me. The upcoming council meeting still hung like a dark cloud on the horizon, but even that couldn’t take away my joy. I no longer had to go to my heart center to feel the glowing orb. My whole body hummed with happiness.
Eliza met me in front of the courthouse, looking like a lawyer once again. She grinned when she saw me, and I grinned right back, handing her the bags of ash and kissing her cheek.
“Midsummer has been good to you. You’re positively glowing, Fiona.”
I ducked my head shyly. “Well, I’m in love.”
Eliza squeezed my hand. “An especially lucky omen during Litha. Many of our coven wait for Midsummer to perform their hand-fasting ceremony for that reason and end our celebration with the performance of the ‘Great Rite.’ Love is in the air during summer solstice.”
I was about to leave when her expression changed. A bunch of men in suits approached the courthouse, and Eliza pulled me off to the side. “That’s the group from Anderson Solutions. They�
��re meeting today.”
I watched the men walk up the steps of the courthouse. My heart stopped, and I nearly sank to my knees in shock. I grabbed onto the stone balustrade on the side of the steps to steady myself.
“Fiona. What’s wrong?” asked Eliza as she put an arm around my shoulders.
I couldn’t speak. I could only stare as Matthew, my Matthew, walked up the steps surrounded by men from Anderson Solutions. He wore a suit and carried a briefcase. Even from a distance, it was obvious his suit was expensive and custom-made. He had a large tube slung over his shoulders like the kind architectural students used to carry blueprints.
After they entered the courthouse, I sat down on one of the cold and dirty steps, not caring about my pretty yellow dress. Not caring about anything.
Eliza looked worried. “Should I call your mom?”
I couldn’t tell Mom that Matthew had betrayed us. It was bad enough to deal with it myself. I forced myself to stand. “I’ll be fine.”
Eliza didn’t look convinced. “Your entire aura changed in a second. It went from glowing and golden to . . . dark.”
I almost laughed. I didn’t believe in auras any more than chakras or tarot cards or magic, but Eliza was correct. Everything went dark the minute I realized Matthew worked for Anderson. The little door to my heart I opened to him now slammed shut and welded closed. I’d never be stupid enough to let anyone in again.
Eliza watched me with a worried frown on her beautiful face. I squared my shoulders and forced myself to smile. “Well, Dragon Lady, maybe a dark aura is a good thing right now. I have a battle to wage. Will you help me?”
She nodded, but there was something sad in her eyes. “Darkness is never good, Fiona.”
“Neither is falling in love with a liar.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Revenge is a dish best served cold.
So is ice cream.
~Aunt Francesca~
I spent most of the afternoon in Eliza’s office, using her computer to research Mr. Matthew Monroe. He wasn’t hard to find. He was the award-winning architect who’d done the renovation project on the row of Victorians down by the river, including the one he lived in. If the photographs of him online had not been enough, the photos of his home would have been. I knew it well. It was where I’d done the horizontal mambo with him only days ago. The vertical mambo, too, if I took into account what we’d done in the kitchen. And in the shower. I’d basically mamboed all over the place in that house.
The pictures of him wearing a tux and attending different galas got me. He wasn’t a poor musician. He was glamorous and wealthy and had a different beautiful girl on his arm in every photo.
“Did you find anything to connect him to Anderson Solutions?” asked Eliza.
“It doesn’t matter. We saw him with them. He’s designing the parking garage.”
Eliza frowned. “But it says he’s famous for restoration work . . .”
Bitterness rose in my chest. “He goes where the money is and doesn’t care who gets hurt in the process.” Thoughts of my mom and Rosie at Pamela’s Diner and poor, dear Sally almost brought a wave of hot, heavy tears. I quashed those tears with my anger. It was stronger than my hurt right now.
Eliza glanced at her watch. “I have to get going.”
I stood up. “I’m so sorry. I’ve tied you up for hours.”
She shook her head. “I keep my schedule open the day after summer solstice. I never know how tired I’ll be.”
“Thank you, Eliza.” As I walked toward the door, Eliza stopped me with a hand on my arm.
“He’s innocent until proven guilty, Fiona. Remember that.”
I pursed my lips. “The proof was in front of my own eyes.”
It was almost dinnertime when I got back to the café. Scott sat outside, waiting for me. He hadn’t brought roses this time, a wise decision.
He frowned at the expression on my face and gathered me into a warm hug. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
Big and solid, he looked and smelled so nice, but I didn’t love him, and I knew I never would. It made me want to scream in frustration. I found the man I’d always wanted and then found a way to mess it up. Maybe I was more like my mother and Aunt Francesca than I realized.
Scott reached into his pocket to hand me one of the handkerchiefs embroidered with his initials, but I wasn’t crying. Not anymore. My heart felt like a cold, black rock in my chest.
He shoved his handkerchief back into his pocket, confused. “I stopped by last night, but you were having a private party.”
Blushing, I thought about the very private party Matthew and I enjoyed behind the rhododendron. “We need to talk, Scott.”
We went into the garden and sat near the fountain in a set of wrought-iron chairs. Mom said the chairs reminded her of spring in Paris. Scott turned his chair to face me. We sat so close our knees touched. He reached for my hand and held it in his. “Do you love me, Fiona? Even a little?”
I took a shaky breath. Part of me wanted to lie to him, but I couldn’t. My lower lip trembled. “I should love you, Scott. You’re perfect for me.” The fountain made a strange sound, almost like a hiccup.
Scott didn’t seem to notice. “But you don’t.” He cleared his throat. “So why exactly did you date me?”
“I thought liking you was enough.”
“After Brittany, I didn’t think I’d ever be able to love someone again, but I do. I love you.” His voice shook as he spoke. “Maybe you can learn to love me too.”
He leaned closer, about to kiss me, when the fountain made a louder sound. A burping sort of sound. This time it got Scott’s attention too. “Did you hear something?”
“Yes,” I said. “I think it was the fountain.”
He looked concerned. “Is it going to spit at me again?”
I couldn’t make any promises at this point. “I’m not sure.”
Scott stood up and pulled me to my feet. “I’m going to prove myself to you, Fiona. I’ll make you love me.”
He kissed me, his lips firm and warm against mine, and he was determined. Very determined. He wanted to elicit some sort of emotional reaction from me but failed. I felt nothing. Nothing at all.
Scott jumped away from me like he’d been stung. “What the . . .”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I tried. I honestly did.”
It took me a second to realize he wasn’t referring to my lack of ardor. He stared down at his feet, feet now resting in the middle of what looked like a small stream. The water came from the fountain and covered his shoes. I stood right next to him, but my feet stayed dry.
“There must be a leak,” I said. “Which would explain those weird sounds.”
Scott stomped away, furious, and sat down on a bench far from the fountain. “It’s a menace,” he said as he took off first one shoe and then the other, dumping out a significant amount of water. “These are my custom-made Johnson and Murphy’s. I lost one pair the night we had dinner with Harrison and Mindy, which is ridiculous. Who loses shoes? I think they were stolen. And now these are ruined. Five-hundred-dollar shoes. Do you realize that?”
I had on a pair of flip-flops I’d gotten for free at a block party last year. It didn’t seem fair he’d been the one to suffer the wrath of the fountain.
I shook my head. The wrath of the fountain? The fountain was an inanimate object, a lump of stone and rusted pipes. It did not feel wrath, and it didn’t target Scott, although it felt that way, especially to him.
“This whole place is a dump. An accident about to happen. I can’t believe your stupid mother won’t sell this shack to Anderson and move on. She’s a complete and total idiot.”
He attempted to dry his $500 shoes with his expensive, embroidered handkerchief. I stared at him, unable to hold myself back any longer. “She isn’t an idiot, and this isn’t a dump.”
He snorted. “I beg to differ. The proof is right in front of you, but you’re too blind to see it.”
“You’re th
e blind one, Scott.”
He frowned, glancing up at me. “What do you mean?”
“My mother is amazing. And this place might be in disrepair, but it’s still beautiful.”
He looked around the garden and studied the back of the house. “Which part? The dilapidated fountain or the house about to fall down around your ears? You both need to wise up and accept the offer before it’s too late.”
“Too late for what?”
He froze for a second and then went back to cleaning his shoes. “Before they rescind it. Most of the people on the block have finally woken up, but not you and your mother. Oh no. You have to be difficult and hang onto a place that is literally falling apart.”
He wrung out his handkerchief, now dripping with water, and glared at me. Suddenly he didn’t look quite as perfect and handsome. He looked more like a spoiled, nasty little boy.
“I didn’t want to hurt you, Scott, but you’ve given me no choice. I tried to be nice. I tried to be gentle. Now you need to listen. Carefully. I don’t want you to come here ever again.”
He shook his head. “You’re angry. You’ll come to your senses eventually.”
“I already did, and I fell in love with someone else.” I didn’t bother adding Matthew had broken my heart. Scott didn’t need to know that part.
He looked like he’d been slapped. “No.”
“It’s true. And karma might punish me for saying this because I know I hurt you, but I’m not even sorry about it.” I blurted out the words. I couldn’t help it.
He pulled on his shoes with quick, angry movements. His socks were soaked, which gave me great pleasure. I hoped he would get a blister.
“This makes things so much easier for me. To think I felt guilty . . .” He shook his head and laughed. Not a pleasant sound. “Goodbye, Fiona, and good riddance.”
The Enchanted Garden Cafe (South Side Stories Book 1) Page 19
