Bewitching the Baker: A Paranormal Chick Lit Novel (Witchy is the New Forty Book 1)

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Bewitching the Baker: A Paranormal Chick Lit Novel (Witchy is the New Forty Book 1) Page 5

by Elizabeth Kirke


  Had I said something? I glanced over at Chef Sorrel to see it looked like he was trying extremely hard not to laugh. And then my words sank in.

  “Did I just call myself Mr. I?!” I blurted before I could stop myself.

  Lavender started laughing and then Chef Sorrel made a noise that sounded quite a bit like a laugh, then started coughing.

  I could have slid under the table and died.

  “I’ll put that in for you,” Lavender said, quickly retreating and leaving me to my misery.

  “You're sure you're not flustered by my perceived fame?” Sorrel said skeptically. “I won't be offended if you are, I’m kind of used to it…” He looked down at the napkin in front of him on the table and started picking at it.

  “I promise… Sorrel, I’m not. I just…” I shrugged helplessly. “I’m cursed.”

  “Cursed?!” he cried in alarm.

  “Well, not actually cursed,” I said quickly. I reminded myself he was magicless and I had to tread carefully. Luckily, the Worst Love Spell Ever wasn’t real magic, so it wouldn’t hurt to tell him a little about it. Although I was going to leave out most of it. “Back when we were twenty, Lavender and I, and our other friend Rose, got this silly book of magic spells.”

  “Magic spells?” he echoed.

  “You know,” I said, “like one of those popular New Age things. Spells for good luck and job promotions, that kind of thing. And uh, love spells.”

  “I see.”

  “Obviously, not real spells,” I said, trying to act like I didn’t think any magic was real. He nodded. “Anyway, we were bored and did one just for fun; we threw a bunch of herbs and spices into a cauldron, made a wish for love, and then drank it.”

  Sorrel laughed and I did as well, although I was laughing at the absurdity of the fake spell. It was a good thing he wasn’t a wizard; he’d probably judge me more if he knew I was a witch and had mucked about with such a silly sounding spell.

  And yet, I couldn’t help wonder if we would ever get to a point in our relationship where I could confess I truly was a witch and have him believe me… I quickly dismissed the thought. He still looked amused and I hoped I wasn’t making a mistake telling him.

  “We screwed it up. Well, I know we didn’t actually screw it up, since it was fake but…” I cleared my throat, embarrassed to admit it. “I haven’t had a successful relationship since. None of us have. It has just been twenty years of absurdly bad luck dating.”

  “Are you serious?” he asked. I couldn’t tell if he wanted to know more or not but decided to risk it.

  I nodded. “All three of us. We get dates who cancel and never call back, freak weather interrupting, halfway through dinner we realize we’re wildly incompatible. Lavender went on a date that was interrupted when his wife showed up because a friend at the restaurant called her! I had a date get hit by a car. Rose was out with a guy who got arrested… Twenty years. I don’t think any of us have gotten so much as three months out of a relationship. So… we joke that the spell was real, you know? That it was a curse or something. Because if it wasn’t, then… all this bad luck is just… just us.”

  “That’s incredible,” Sorrel said. “I mean, awful for you, I’m sure. But what are the odds?”

  “Right?” I rolled my eyes at myself. “Of course, that’s what I decide to talk about on a first date. No wonder I’m chronically single. Now you must think I’m nuts talking about spells and curses.”

  “I do star in a show called Cake Magic,” he reminded me with a chuckle. “I think there are certainly some things in the world that can’t be explained. Maybe not botched love spells,” he added. “Although I do have to admit, I’m glad you’re chronically single; I wouldn’t be here with you otherwise.”

  “As long as my love spell talk didn’t scare you off.”

  “I like a good challenge. I think I can compete with a love spell gone wrong,” he teased.

  “You’re not hiding a wife or a criminal record, are you?” I joked, emboldened by his acceptance of my ridiculous tale.

  “No, no.” Sorrel arched an eyebrow at me. “Although let’s be careful if we cross any streets.”

  Our appetizers arrived and the conversation stopped. I hoped when we picked it up again I’d come up with a better topic.

  “This is very good,” Sorrel said after a few bites.

  “Yeah, it’s great. I usually get leftovers Lavender brings home for dinner; it’s better fresh.”

  “Is that normally what you do for dinner?”

  “Only if she’s closing and she finds enough for all three of us. We take turns cooking dinner, although Lavender usually does most of it. She’s the best cook. I’m the baker; cooking really isn’t my forte.”

  “You certainly are the baker,” he said. “Tracey speaks very highly of you and what I’ve tasted so far is delicious.”

  “Thank you,” I said, hoping I wasn’t flushing.

  “What’s your favorite cake?” he asked.

  “To eat or to bake?”

  He considered it. “Both?”

  “My favorite is probably spice cake with a good maple frosting.”

  “Delicious. And to bake?”

  I considered it. “I don’t know if I have a favorite; I just love the entire experience. I like a good challenge too. Stuff I haven’t baked before… maybe something that needs to be rolled or has a lot of different layers. What about you?”

  “Me?” he asked in surprise.

  “Your favorite type of cake.”

  “Oh. You might be surprised, but I just like a simple chocolate with a good, light, layer of cream cheese frosting.”

  “That sounds good too.”

  We were interrupted by the arrival of dinner.

  “So, what about baking?” I asked once we had gotten a chance to get everything together and start eating.

  “Baking?” Sorrel asked, brows furrowed.

  “What’s your favorite cake to bake?”

  His frown deepened and he paused to cut off a piece of steak, then popped it in his mouth. It must have been quite a grisly piece, because he just kept chewing. At last, he swallowed.

  “I don’t really bake that much… I don’t think I have a favorite.”

  “You don’t bake much?” I asked skeptically.

  He shrugged and started cutting another piece of steak, then raised it, almost as if he was ready to take another bite. I narrowed my eyes, was he avoiding the question? Sorrel considered the steak for a moment, then sighed.

  “Well, as I said earlier, they do all the baking for me on the show and…” He shrugged again. “I’m so busy filming and in the kitchen all day, I’m not really inclined to bake once I get home.”

  “Oh, that makes sense.”

  “Tell me more about your dream bakery,” he said.

  I eagerly dove into it; I had it all planned after all.

  Before I knew it, Lavender was bringing the bill. “I have to do some clean up, but I’m done serving and I have to close you out. If you want anything else you can order at the bar.”

  “It's probably time to go anyway,” I said reluctantly, pulling out my clutch and looked for my wallet.

  “No, no, it’s on me,” Sorrel said. He quickly fished out his credit card and handed it to Lavender.

  “Be right back,” she said, ignoring my protests.

  Sorrel grinned at me as I shyly thanked him. Lavender was back quickly with the receipt. She shot me a wink as he signed it.

  “See you at That Place Down by the Water?” she asked.

  “Yeah, I’ll be there,” I said.

  She bid us goodnight and soon we were alone again.

  “What’s the place by the water?” Sorrel asked.

  “That Place Down by the Water,” I corrected. “It’s the café I was telling you about where we like to hang out.”

  “Ah,” he said. “Late night gossip about your date?”

  I flushed. “Probably.”

  He chuckled. “Are you g
oing straight there or do I get to walk you home?”

  “I’m going there, but you could walk with me…”

  “Perfect. Shall we?” He stood end offered his arm.

  “Sure.”

  We headed off toward the boardwalk. After a couple of minutes Sorrel reached out and took my hand. I grinned as I squeezed his fingers back. With our fingers laced together, I led him through an alley between buildings and down to the waterfront. He gasped as we emerged right on the boardwalk by the river.

  “Oh wow, you weren’t kidding about it being on the water,” he said.

  “Yeah, I think that’s part of why we come here so much. It’s a beautiful view.”

  We paused at the railing that went along the dock and leaned against it, looking out over the water.

  “It is,” Sorrel agreed. He turned and flashed me a grin. “Not as beautiful as you.” He immediately laughed and turned away. “That was probably cheesy.”

  I felt myself blushing furiously and said softly, “Actually, I thought it was kind of sweet.” I looked back at the water and set my clutch on the railing, drumming my fingers against it absently. I could feel Sorrel’s eyes burning into me before he turned and took in our surroundings.

  “Oh,” he said with a sudden laugh. “It's actually called That Place Down by the Water.”

  “Yeah,” I giggled.

  I turned to look at That Place. Next door, the windows to the apothecary where Rose worked were still lit. I wondered who was still working this late. I glanced back at the café. Rose and Lavender would probably be arriving any time now.

  “I should get a table soon…” I said softly, wondering how to end a date that hadn't ended in some sort of disaster or a mutual agreement that we weren't going to see each other again.

  “I had a lot of fun tonight,” I said awkwardly.

  “Me too,” said Sorrel.

  “I hope it won't be weird tomorrow.” Why did I say that out loud?!

  Sorrel rested his elbows on the railing next to me with a groan. “Yeah, I didn’t think that far ahead. Although I suppose it only has to be weird if we make it weird.”

  “Yeah,” I agreed.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow, then. Have a good evening with your friends.”

  Sorrel raised one arm like he was going to hug me. I started to do the same, then realized he was actually leaning in for a kiss. I chose that exact moment to think of a rather disastrous date, a few years back, where the guy went in for a kiss and for whatever reason, I thought he was trying to kiss me on the cheek. So, I turned and he missed and I offended him; we never went on another date.

  I quickly lowered my arm back down, resolving not to do anything until it was crystal clear what Sorrel was trying to do. My elbow bumped into something and a moment later there was a splash. His lips paused a mere inch from mine and his eyes opened.

  “What was that?” he asked.

  “Nothing,” I groaned, realizing exactly what it was.

  He looked around, then down at the rippling water below us. “Did your purse just fall in the water?” he asked in alarm.

  “It’s fine,” I said. “It wasn’t important.”

  With a look of alarm, Sorrel started to reach into his jacket, then paused with a slight frown, before he started to take it off as if he was planning on diving into the water after it!

  “No, no,” I said frantically. “I’ll get it, stuff falls off the dock all the time uh…” My thoughts were racing. “They have a net in the café!”

  “Are you sure?” he asked me skeptically.

  “Yeah, it’s no big deal.”

  “Okay…” he said, still not looking convinced. He looked down at the water. “I hope your cell phone wasn't in there…”

  “No,” I lied. “It's in my pocket.”

  “Oh, good.”

  “Well, I'm sorry.” He gestured to the water.

  “No, it's fine. Really!” I said, aware that I probably sounded slightly more manic than casual.

  He smiled, then nodded. “Do you want me to help with the net?”

  “No, someone in there will. You can head on home. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “If you’re sure…” He flashed me a smile. “Good night, then.”

  I watched him leave, forcing a weak smile as he turned back one last time. He grinned at me, then disappeared around the corner and back into the alley.

  I sagged against the railing with a groan. Maybe it wasn't the love the Worst Love Spell Ever, maybe I really was just this awkward. I glanced around to make sure I was alone on the dock, then reached an arm under the railing and waited a moment while my wand extricated itself from my purse. After a few seconds, it flew up out of the water into my waiting palm. With a few quick swishes and swirls and my purse, and all of the contents, were back on dry land.

  “Take a clutch. Violet,” I muttered, gripping the sopping wet bag as I headed into the café. “They’re classy.”

  At least our favorite booth in the corner was empty. I didn’t even have time to order a drink before Rose arrived.

  “Hey,” she said, sitting down with a grin. “How did it go? Was it a date or not?”

  “It went well… until the end.”

  “Oh no, what happened?”

  “He almost kissed me, but uh…”

  Rose’s eyes landed on my clutch. “Why is your purse wet?”

  “It fell into the water,” I muttered.

  “The water? You mean…” She glance toward the window. “The river?!”

  “Yeah… I may have bumped it with my elbow… right before he tried to kiss me…”

  Rose groaned, then shook her head in bemusement. I knew she understood all too well.

  “I'm starting to think maybe I can't blame all this on that spell, not now that I’m forty,” I joked.

  “It wasn't a real spell anyway,” she said, glancing around to make sure there weren't any magicless people within earshot.

  “I know, but I have to confess, when things were going well with Sorrel, I was almost starting to hope the spell really did work. We had a great time. It’s silly, but I feel like I could really see this going somewhere…”

  “That’d sure be nice. You know, I’m kind of over it.”

  “Over it?” I asked.

  “Being single,” said Rose. “Back when we cast that ridiculous spell being single until I was forty sounded great. But I always imagined I’d have my apothecary and be successful by now. Maybe if my career was actually where I wanted it, I wouldn’t be as bothered, but…” She shrugged. “I don’t know, I feel like I should at least have something solid by now. I want to feel like my life has a direction. Without a shop to focus on, at least I could have someone to move forward and build a life with. It’s just me and Booke like it has always been… I don’t regret the last twenty years. I suppose I’m glad I have been able to focus on myself for long, but I’m ready for a change.”

  “I know how you feel,” I said.

  The bells on the door jingled and we turned to see Lavender had arrived. She slid eagerly into the booth with us.

  “Tell me everything! It looked like it was going great!” she demanded.

  “It was until he tried to kiss her and she dropped her purse in the river,” said Rose.

  When Lavender finally stopped laughing, she turned to me and asked, “Did you drop it or did Mr. I?”

  I groaned and buried my face in my hands as Rose asked, “Who is Mr. I?”

  “Excuse me, would you like some drinks?”

  We all turned in surprise to see an unfamiliar server standing by the booth. We came so often that we knew everyone who worked here and usually we just had to wait and whoever saw us first brought over our favorite drinks and an appetizer sampler.

  The server awkwardly juggled a pitcher of water and a notepad, before deciding to put away the notepad and pour water first. After lots of splashing and apologizing, he set the pitcher down and got his pad back out.

  “Sorry
again um… Can I take your orders? Oh, you don’ have menus…” He looked around with a wince.

  “Hey, it’s okay,” Lavender said. “We don’t need menus. Don’t worry about it. Just relax, you’ll get the hang of things.”

  “Is it that obvious I’m new?” he asked with a groan.

  Just then, our favorite barista appeared and expertly slid our drinks across the booth. “Evening, ladies!” she said merrily. “There’s a fresh batch of mozzarella sticks in the fryer, as soon as they’re done I’ll send Duncan here back with your sampler.”

  “Thanks, Indie,” I said.

  “Anytime.” Indie jerked her head at Duncan and, with a confused look at us, he followed her away.

  “Okay, then,” Rose said. “Where were we?”

  Chapter Seven

  I was nervous going into work the next morning, wondering whether or not I had completely botched things with Sorrel, thanks to the purse and kiss incident. But to my surprise, he greeted me warmly when I walked into the kitchen. Then his eyes widened in alarm as he took in my purse.

  “Oh, no,” he cried. “You weren't able to get your purse back?”

  “No, I got it,” I said. “That was just a nicer one for the restaurant. This is my usual bag,” I said, patting my favorite old purse. “I got everything back.”

  “Good, I was worried.” Sorrel looked a little embarrassed and added, “I considered coming back a couple of times to make sure you had gotten it.”

  “That’s very sweet of you,” I told him. I considered apologizing for completely derailing the evening, but one of the camera crew members came up behind him and asked a question.

  With a parting nod, I went off to get set up for the morning. It ended up being quite a busy day and Sorrel and I didn't get much of a chance to see each other. Thanks to a week of afternoons spent on decorating lessons, the bakery had fallen a little bit behind on our supplies and I was elected to bake some extra things to help get us through the weekend. I wasn't all that thrilled about missing the lessons, but Sorrel assured me that he'd make sure to make up for it and he was confident I'd pick it up quickly. I hoped that he also meant our date hadn't gone as badly as I thought.

  It seemed that I was right. He joined me in the kitchen that afternoon, once the cameras stopped rolling, seemingly just to have a chat.

 

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