by Casey Morgan
It was my dream, so I could be whoever I wanted in it— and I wanted to be a witch who was adored and pleasured by five handsome men, each who wanted me as much as the next one, forever and ever.
Chapter Eleven
Alex
The next day
After my time at The Lucky Spell Pot last night with Gwendolyn, as short as it was, I hadn’t been able to think of anything else. I hadn’t been able to get her, or my desire to have more time by myself with her, out of my head.
So, the next day, right before lunch, I set my plan in motion. I left early. Before the other guys. Before my brother, Eric, Robert and Travis left.
With my brother, David, that was no problem. He often worked through lunch on days like this when we were swamped with reports from our app developers, coders and whatnot.
With Eric and Robert and Travis, it was a different story. They often would duck out early, so I left earlier than early, sneaking out of there before anyone noticed I was gone.
From the shiny front doors of our office building, I quickly made my way to The Lucky Spell Pot. It was a bit of a walk, given that we drove there the night before, but I didn’t mind it.
I needed the time and the exercise to help me plan. To help me come up with what I was going to say when I saw Gwendolyn and asked her out on a date. When I asked her to choose me over the rest of those blokes for one night or as many nights as she wanted.
Sure, I’d had a thing for the other waitress, Stephanie, but that was before I met Gwendolyn. Before I realized how special she could be. How much different she was from any of the other girls and women I had ever fallen head over heels for. She was mysterious, but not in her withholding of affection, like some of the other girls I had dated. Some of the other women I’d been interested in, who’d played hard to get.
No, Gwendolyn was truly a different animal. She was forthcoming and genuinely sweet and generous with her love and attention. Yeah, to me and all the other guys, but I wasn’t about to let that stop me or extinguish the fire in my heart I could feel building for her with every step. She was one-of-a-kind, and I was going to make her my one and only. Before my brother, Travis or Eric got any bright ideas.
I saw the way they looked at her. The same way I did. We all wanted her, but we all knew there could only be one.
Sure, in porno, there were things like gangbangs, pairings of multiple people, but this was real life. That didn’t happen in real life, right? Not unless you had a very special lady, and while I knew Gwendolyn was definitely special, I didn’t know if she was that kind of special. She seemed maybe too responsible and well-mannered for something like that.
Personally, I might not have minded the idea of a three or foursome, but this was not about me. Not about what I might or might not be in to. This is about me getting first dibs on her. On dating her, since it was my idea to even go to The Lucky Spell Pot last night.
Thinking this, I picked up my pace against the cold afternoon air, happy when I saw the pub’s sign coming into view. I’d heard that the sign for the pub had been there since its opening over four hundred years ago. And I wondered whether The Lucky Spell Pot had a certain meaning to its name or if the rumors were true that the old woman who used to run it was a witch.
Swiping that thought from my head, though, I entered in through the front door, hoping the great minds who started the company with me didn’t have other bright ideas. Like joining me here. At least, not until after I succeeded in making her mine. Securing a date with her.
Immediately upon entering the pub, I saw Gwendolyn. Like last night, she was dressed in a black apron, bright white-dress shirt, small black bowtie, black slacks, and flawless black dress shoes. They had a bit of a heel on them, making them look a little bit like work boots, but they were smoother. Swankier in look.
She had her red hair tied up in a ponytail, giving me a beautiful view of her dark eyes, and arching perfect eyebrows. She looked just as beautiful as I remembered. Even more so.
“Well, hello there, stranger,” she said. While her voice was chipper and welcoming, I could see immediately that she was tired. A little rough around the edges, though she tried her best to hide it and give it some glam with her makeup job. “Fancy seeing you here again.”
“Yeah, I know,” I said, slipping into a bar stool close by. “Since I didn’t bother to eat much in the way of food last night, I wanted to see what this place had on offer for lunch.” I said this, knowing I had come in for a few dinnertime appetizers before, but I did let her know that. I wanted for her to feel special. For this to feel special. “I also didn’t get as much time with you as I wanted, thanks to the other guys.”
To this, Gwendolyn smiled. Again, she looked tired. A little worn, but happy to see me. Happy to hear about the other guys as well. Which I was a little bit miffed by, but didn’t say anything. We were all flirting with her in equal measure last night, so I shouldn’t be getting jealous over that kind of reaction from her. But that’s exactly why I was here today. To try to separate myself from the pack. Distinguish myself from my brother and my friends.
“You all were a lot of fun last night,” she murmured, appearing flushed. Sleepier than before, but satisfied in some way. “To serve, I mean,” she corrected, unbidden, as if I was about to catch her in some light, some dirty secret. “You guys were a lot of fun to serve last night.”
I was quiet around this. Only for a moment though, while I studied her.
She moved up to the front of the bar, stifling a yawn. She apologized for it a second later.
“Late night after we left?” I asked her.
“Yeah,” she said. “Lots to do, but that’s business, you know. Long hours. That’s what you gotta do to make something successful. Keep it together when you really care about it.”
“Don’t I know it,” I said. “I’m no stranger to long hours. Have them nearly 7 days a week, what with working with my brother and my friends, Eric and Robert and Travis. We started the company together a few years back, right after college.” I paused, leaning forward on the bar. Lacing my hands together. “Reverb Tech’s our baby, I guess, which you would know about. This pub’s your baby, too, right?”
Gwendolyn looked a little sad. Wistful.
“It’s my heritage. Businesses are special. You want to do anything you can to keep them open. To keep them alive and well.”
Here, she paused and traced sad patterns on the wood, before snapping out of it and asking me what I wanted to drink and to eat. I wasn’t sure about the food yet, so I went ahead and ordered a soda. A bubbly lime concoction.
Immediately after taking that order (she didn’t even need to write it down) Gwendolyn disappeared into the back.
In the few minutes she was gone, however, my window of opportunity was also gone. David shambled in the through the front doors, immediately irritating me.
“So, you are here,” he groused. “Just like I thought.”
But was hoping not. That was the traitorous thought I heard passing between both of us. Sometimes being a twin rocked. Some of the time though, it sucked.
“Don’t get pissed at me,” I snapped back. “I’m the one who should be angry. I’m the one who had the idea to come here in the first place, and yet I barely got any time with Gwendolyn last night.”
If I had any hopes that my nightmare would end differently, that I would avoid any other competition, I was sorely, cruelly mistaken. Literally in the next second, Travis came traipsing in, followed by Eric. They were almost all fucking here. Again. Except this time, I hadn’t invited them.
I went out of my way to leave them in the dust, which I immediately spoke to.
“What the fuck, you guys? Whatever you think you’re doing here, forget about it, okay?” I jab a finger at Travis and Eric, and at my brother. “I saw her first, yeah? I was interested in her first. It was my idea to even come here, so you guys can just forget about any plans you might have.”
At least Robert had had the decency no
t to come sneaking back here behind my back. But that was only because he thought the way that all of us were hitting on the same girl was creepy—I could tell. Plus, he had never been one to pursue a witch or other paranormal creature, or for that matter, any kind of local girl. Nor did he pursue any kind of a dating relationship with anyone.
Travis piped up in a rare lack of shyness, but a predictable storm of attitude.
“Shut the hell up, Alex. You did not call dibs on her. You don’t get to. I called dibs first. I was trying to get her to come home with me last night. You and your brother were too busy trying to get a dance with her.”
He lifted his chin at me, and I want nothing more than to punch him.
“The hell you did,” I growled, conscious that Gwendolyn should be coming back any moment.
The moment she did, I was going to ask her out. Before any of these other assholes got the idea or the chance.
“I did,” affirmed Travis, marching up to me.
He looked like he was about to punch me, and I was eager to let him be stupid enough to try it. If he did, it would be a legitimate reason for me to get physical with him. I was not much of a fighter, mostly a lover and a comedian when I could be, but not here.
Love was always war. I didn’t care what other people said. It was always quick and dirty. Merciless, whether you were falling in or out of it.
“Correction,” said Eric, pushing him out of the way, and jostling for another seat next to me. My brother had already taken one a space or two down. “I was the one who actually called dibs on her before any of you all did. Even before you, Travis.”
“Wanna bet?”
“Hell yes! I would have to be a betting man to get into a company with David, Travis, and you. Don’t even question my bravery on this kind of thing. You’re going to lose.”
“We’ll see about that,” said Travis, just as the object of my affection reappeared from the back.
As she did, I immediately called out to her, “Gwendolyn!”
Her head shot up, eager and friendly as always. Her dark eyes bright. “Yes?”
“If you’re free for lunch right now, I was wondering if I could take you away from—”
“Us,” said Travis, pulling her undivided attention away from me, just as she set my soda down in front of me.
“Which is ridiculous,” said David, “since we know you’re busy, and can’t leave your place of business, especially since you’re the boss.” He glowered at me, as if to say, “nice going, idiot.”
I glared right back, hoping my look said, “Eat shit, date wrecker.”
I was sure it did. But I was also sure David didn’t give a fuck. He never did. He never had, not even when we were little kids, and he fucked up something I really wanted. Being the oldest out of us twins, he always seemed to think it was his duty to squash my dreams. Mess them up a little bit before handing them back to me.
“We really wouldn’t do that to you,” added Eric, settling into his own seat finally.
He shot a look at Travis. Almost as if he were some kind of animal, some kind of uncultured gentlemen, despite his perfectly styled medium-length black hair. He looked like Leonardo DiCaprio and Orlando Bloom had been scientifically combined in a lab.
“I’m sorry that we took so much time of yours last night, Gwendolyn, but we just wanted to come by for lunch. Spend a bit more time, without distracting you too much from your job. We’re on break, you’re not.”
“I don’t know about them, but I was here to ask you a serious question,” I said.
“Which she doesn’t have time to answer,” interrupted my brother.
“Because she’s going to be busy taking my order,” said Travis.
“And mine,” said Eric.
“Mine too, though I will need a little time to think,” said David. “Got a lunch menu I can look at?”
“One for me?” That was Eric.
“For me too,” I said, annunciating that for everybody’s benefit. I was still feeling pretty angry at being shown up by all of these other guys, but I quickly lost some of my irritation in the giggle I heard from Gwendolyn, in the smile she had on her lips and the cute wrinkle she had to her nose.
“Yes, I have menus for all of you boys, just wait a second,” she said as she moved from behind the bar.
“I’m going to win this one,” I murmured loud enough for everyone to hear as Gwendolyn went away to grab menus for us.
I took a moment to open up my straw, shove it into my drink. I didn’t care if it was looking like I was unfurling my dick and shoving it in Gwendolyn. If that was what the other guys thought as they watched me, so be it. They should know whose game this was.
Mine from start to finish.
“Like hell you will,” replied Travis.
“We’ll see about that,” added Eric, watching me sip my soda.
“She brought me my drink first, because I was here first.” I said this out of nowhere. It was juvenile and stupid, I knew. But I wanted them to remember that simple, inarguable fact: I was here first, and I would be the one to win this contest. Win the first and only date with her.
My resolve for this strengthened as I watched her come out of whatever part of the pub she had disappeared into to retrieve a stack of lunch menus. Black and gold, they were classically beautiful. Just like her.
I was going to win this one. I really will, Gwendolyn, I thought. Just you watch.
You can take all of their other orders, they can try to distract you from me as much as they want, but I’m going to win you over in the end. I’m going to make sure you want me and only me. I’m not sure how, but I’m going to make it happen.
You’ll see. They all will.
As I thought this, I was made breathless by her cuteness and her sweetness, as she hands everyone a menu.
Everyone but Travis.
Chapter Twelve
Travis
“Oh, no. Thank you, Gwendolyn. I don’t need one of those,” I said, refusing her offered menu. As I did, I looked around at the other guys. Watched for the reactions. Theirs were about the same as Gwendolyn’s. Mildly surprised. “I already know what I want.”
You.
“Unlike the rest of these yokels, I already know what kind of food I want for lunch.”
A silky, velvety pause. “I’m Travis by the way.”
Gwendolyn’s face lit up. “I remember, Travis. You sure you don’t want a menu?” This question buried her features under sexy seriousness.
“Oh yeah, sweetheart, I’m sure,” I said, being sure that the other boys got the memo: out of your league, dudes. Totally and completely. You all should just give up right now, because I’m going to smoke each and every one of you. “I’m no stranger to these kinds of places.”
Eric raised an eyebrow at me. Gave me a dubious, accusing look. A new one for him, considering he is usually more of the open-minded, happy-go-lucky, don’t-judge-others-until-you-know-them kind of guy.
“Since when? You never like to go to different places other than what you’re comfortable with.”
“I didn’t see you around here before. Not until last night,” said Gwendolyn, though I know she wasn’t trying to back him up and throw me under the bus.
“My mother worked at a restaurant like this one. She was a bartender in the pub area. Like you have been, lately,” I said, looking directly at her. Pushing the rest of these dicks out of my peripheral vision.
I cleared my throat, trying desperately to not think about all the pain and sadness I had around my mother. Around the fact that she died a few years back, before I had a chance to accomplish anything of note.
“I used to do my homework in a back room while she served drinks.”
My voice and memory cracked over this, and I did my best to keep it back. Especially the part about my mother getting fucked in the nearby part of that back room, the storage area of it by the owner, just so she could be guaranteed a job. Guaranteed hours, even though she had a “snot-nosed little kid�
� like me. His words.
I’d always hated the fact that she had to put in that kind of “double” shift at a place where she should just be able to work, not be stared at by the boss and the patrons like a piece of meat.
But my mother, the good woman she was, never complained.
Not even when her health began to deteriorate, and she still had no other type of job to do, and no ability to consider anything else. That was when I was still going through school.
“Oh, so you’re used to this kind of joint, then?”
That was Gwendolyn, oblivious to the darker content of my memories.
“I certainly am,” I said, giving the other guys a run for their money again. “I’ll have a Reuben sandwich and some beer-battered fries, please.” One of my mother’s favorites, it took ages for me to finally see the appeal. Took these finally being served at her funeral to make me love them, actually.
Gwendolyn committed that savory bit of information to memory, while I tried to ignore the unsavory bits that have entered mine.
“Gotcha. Coming right up,” she said.
Yeah, along with a lot of memories I’d rather have kept buried.
Disgust and hatred roiled in my gut and soul for that man, even 15 to 20 years later. Which was why I wanted Gwendolyn to be into me legitimately. Why I was frustrated and saddened by the fact that, after taking my order, she immediately got busy with all of the others.
Perusing the menu and asking stupid, unnecessary questions. Questions that were more aimed at garnering more of her attention, less about filling in actual blanks in their understanding of bar food.
But I wasn’t paying attention to it too much.
My mind was squarely on my mother again. On how hard she had worked. How much she insisted that I go to college, study hard, make something of myself.
This had been on her death bed, shortly after going into my senior year at college. She told me not to hold out. Not to wait for someday in the future to follow my dreams, like she had done.
