by Casey Morgan
Maxine’s eyes and mouth tightened. She looked ready to dive over the bar at me, but she forced herself to smile. Give me a whole bunch of twinkling silver in her energy. “I know you said that. I know what this place means to you, Gwendolyn, dear. So that’s why I’m prepared to offer you thirty percent more for this place than I did before.”
I hated myself for it, but thirty percent more than she originally offered, that was actually a sizable amount of money. A big enough amount that I almost consider taking it. Until I felt Grandma Cora and my great great grandmother come around me. Bolster me. Remind me that it wasn’t just the business I was selling, but their legacy. Their memories, and mine too.
Maxine grinned seeing my reaction, but quickly had that smile turned upside down when she saw my resolve. The change that took hold of me. “It doesn’t matter if you offer me forty percent, fifty percent or all of the money in the world. The damn state lottery’s worth. I’m not selling to you now or ever, Maxine.”
Maxine lashed out. Grabbed onto my wrist quickly and efficiently like the cobra she was, dragging me over the bar and toward her, as if she had the power to eat me alive, unhinge her jaw and be done with it. For a moment, I felt afraid. I felt scared of what she might actually do.
True to her scuzzy nature, Maxine took advantage of this. She used my clear terror to threaten me. “We have ways of dealing with difficult people like you, Gwendolyn. We have options to choose from when it comes to making them do what we want. Giving us what we want.” Her eyes glassed over, bespeaking unfortunate accidents befalling others. Bad business settling over once-thriving meccas. “I don’t want to have to go there, Gwendolyn. I don’t want to have to use these other means. Money is much nicer. Much simpler.”
“And it’s not going to get you what you want,” I say, finally finding my courage. The literal strength to pull my wrist away from her. I glared at her, noticing and hearing someone else come through the door. “Money can’t buy everything. It can’t buy my happiness or my business.” As I said this, I was overjoyed to see the universe sending me some help. Sending me one of my four guardian angels.
David came into the bar, his arrival surrounded by the chiming sound of my welcome bells. When he saw who was standing in front of me and my bar, his eyes darkened. His shoulders straightened, and his chest puffed out. I didn’t know how, but he knew Maxine as well as I did. Probably because she had a reputation all over this town of being a finely-dressed played.
Even so, there was something else in his eyes. Something meaner. More personal than just her reputation out in public. That reputation had done something to him directly. Intimately.
Without any word of warning, he slammed a hand down on her shoulder, spun her around. “Whatever you’re doing here, whatever you’re saying to Gwendolyn, I want you to leave right now, Maxine. Get out of here and stop polluting this fine, reputable establishment with your filth.”
I sucked in a breath. With his chiseled features, crew-cut blonde hair and intelligent, patient eyes, I’d never believe he was capable of saying anything like that to anyone. Particularly not a woman.
It took a moment for Maxine to realize — recognize — her enemy, but when she did, her mouth turned into a dagger. Her smile, a scimitar. “David,” she said, as if he’d meant more to her than all the money in the world at one point, but not anymore, “what a surprise to see you hanging around this dump. Hardly fine, if you ask me.”
“Nobody’s asking you anything, except to get the fuck out,” he said, lowering his mouth to her ear, and lowering his tone to deadly. “Now move. Before I give you some help.”
I shivered with gratitude and excitement hearing this. I wouldn’t mind if he talked to me that way over the bar later.
Maxine looked like she would resist him. Fight him for her right to stay at my bar and harass me. But her will turned out to be weak. The moment he went to grab for her, for her wrist, the way she grabbed for mine, Maxine sprang into action. She angrily swished away from me and through the crowded restaurant. “You haven’t heard the last from me, Gwendolyn. But be warned: next time, I won’t be so nice. Or generous.” With that, she pushes her way out my front doors, and into the chilly, overcast afternoon.
The moment she disappeared, David turned to me. Leaned over the bar, and took a seat.
“What was that about?” he asked.
“I was about to ask you the same thing,” I said, walking around the back of the bar, and to my wall of liquor. “You looked like you knew her. But more than just from her reputation around town.”
“I do,” he said. “I’d like a martini, please, Gwendolyn. I need one, after seeing her again.”
I didn’t blame him. I felt similarly. I said as much, gathering up a martini glass, some small plastic spears for the cocktail olives, and the required alcohols from my shelf. “What is she to you?”
“Ex-girlfriend, almost wife,” he answered. “Before I caught her fucking cheating on me. Thanks to Eric, I knew about it. Otherwise, I would have married her. I would have pledged my life to her, not even knowing that she was cheating on me with Eric’s ex-friend, Carl.”
I didn’t say anything as I poured the liquid into the tumbler, screwed the lid on, and began to shake. Not before putting ice in of course.
It figured that someone like her would cheat on a guy like him. It figured that Eric would be the type to warn his friend, to cut off contact with a guy like Carl. I was glad to be in the company of two upstanding gentlemen. I wasn’t so glad, however, when David returned to his original question.
“But what is going on with her and you? Why is she even coming into your bar in the first place? What is going on between you?”
I shook the tumbler extra hard, before unscrewing the top, and pouring it into the glass. “She wants to buy me out of my business. Out of my family legacy,” I said.
I reached into a compartment to grab a fresh, unopened jar of cocktail olives. Stuffed ones. Opening the jar, I imagined that it was Maxine’s neck I was twisting. “She’s done that to nearly everyone who ever had a business in this area of town, as I’m sure you’re aware. She has all of these ‘investments’ that she’s been going around. Shopping for instead of actually shopping at the businesses that have every right to be here, and not be bought out.”
I speared the olives on the plastic sword, before dropping it into the lily-shaped body of the glass. As I turned to give David his drink, I saw and heard my front door chime again. The other three boys stumbled in, looking warmed by my appearance more than the cozy heater I had going. I smiled at them briefly, before turning my attention back to David.
He didn’t ask what I had smiled at, so I figured he knew. “Seems odd for her to do that kind of investing. The best is often done online, you know.” He took a sip of his drink.
“I do know, but I appreciate you coming to give me back up. If not, I might have given in to her.” I shuddered, not wanting to believe I was actually that weak or impressionable. That easily bullied.
“Cheater,” said Alex, slumping down into the stool right next to his brother. “Said you were going to the bathroom, and then you just cut out and left early, leaving us all to track you down.”
“I’m going to take you to the bathroom,” said Travis, looking at David mischievously. “So I can give you a swirly.” He took up the seat on the other side of David.
Eric saw me tremble, shudder and shiver. “What’s the matter, Gwendolyn?” he asked, as he slid into the stool on the other side of Alex, not Travis. “You look a little down. Nervous?”
I was about to tell him it was nothing and that he had no need to worry, when David spoke for me. “Maxine was just here.”
Eric’s eyes narrowed. “I know. I saw her leaving. We all did.” His eyes softened toward me. Grabbed at me like a puppy dog. “What did she want, Gwendolyn? Did she do something to you?”
Again, I wanted nothing more than to deny it all. To say that she wasn’t a big deal, and that what she was doi
ng, I could handle it, but David took another swig of his drink, and said, “Maxine’s trying to get her to sell The Lucky Spell Pot.”
“What?” That was Eric. He genuinely like to shocked and appalled. “Why?”
“Because she can, I suspect,” answered David.
“How long has she been asking you to do that?” That was Alex, fighting for a glimpse of me over his brother. He brushed his longer, wavier blonde hair behind his ears, looking like a merman just washed ashore.
“Months.” I said this before I could think about hiding it or taking it back. Neither of which was going to happen now.
“Months?” This was Eric again, sounding completely and totally stricken. “Oh, you poor thing!” The sweetness left his face, to be replaced by anger. A strange lust for violence, despite his peace-loving aura. “If that’s the case, I would love nothing more than to take them both down a peg. Her and Carl. They’ve wrecked enough lives as it is.”
Quietly, I asked him if I could get him some red wine. Sweet, perfumed. Anything to get him to settle down. To not look like that anymore. He accepted my offer graciously, but continued to look like I had just given him new fuel for a fire I didn’t even know was there.
“Was this before or after your money difficulties?” Travis leaned in, also asking for a drink. A Drunk Shirley Temple. A Shirley Temple with vodka in it, along with the 7-Up.
“Both,” I said. “I think she and Carl are responsible for the fact that I’m having money trouble to begin with, so they can come in and save me from it.” My stomach gave a dizzying drop, but I held my ground. Held my balance, despite it.
Travis hummed darkly.
Eric immediately put his lips to the glass of wine when I gave it to him. The way he drank, it was like he was hoping to find nirvana at the bottom of that glass. Either that, or a small, wish-granting fairy. Or just another glance at me, through a bit of distorted glass.
Around my line of beautiful soldiers, men ready to go to battle for me, the restaurant continued to fill. As a result, after getting Travis his drink, I was torn between them and serving the rest of the floor. My poor kitchen’s assistant could barely keep up with the orders and the new customers coming in. The tables needing to be cleaned as others moved out.
When I could, I came back to continue to serve them. Spend time with them.
Unlike the other couple of times they been here, I didn’t have a lot of time or space to give them. And I wanted to have a wealth of it. But it was either time or money, and right now I didn’t have a lot of either.
Still, I enjoyed the spare moments I had with them. The little caresses I was able to give and get from them before they left.
Despite being sad to see them go, I knew I would see them later.
Like clockwork, I knew they would come in to save me at the dinner rush, if there was one.
As they trailed out, a very large group of people were coming in— at least a dozen of them. Mostly guys, but there were a few women among them, too. All of them talked in loud, Irish accents and they seemed to be very happy to be at The Lucky Spell Pot.
As I looked at them closer, I realized that all the guys were actually elves— big, strapping ones, and handsome at that. And the three women were witches like myself.
I didn’t know them, and I knew they weren’t from Love’s Hollow. But that wasn’t rare for this time of year— the Harvest Festival was a touristy event that drew in people from neighboring towns and all over, really. We had hit the news a few years back, and now international people even came.
I was glad to have them and add to the already bustling number of customers. But I was just wondering where I would put them. There wasn’t a lot of space due to all the other patrons, and I would have to improvise to be able to make room for them.
“I’ll be right with you,” I told them, and they smiled at me and told me not to worry about hurrying.
They looked like they were on a leisurely visit, with all the time in the world. It was nice to see people appearing so genuinely happy and relaxed. They took a seat at several benches I had set up near the front doors of the restaurant, for the few times that I had a wait like this.
I began hurrying to clear the tables of anyone who had left, and then I was doing my best to push the tables together so that the new group could all sit in one area. The tables were made of heavy wood though, and it was always a pain to try to slide them across the floor myself.
“Let me help you with that,” someone’s deep voice said.
Strong, muscular arms reached out and took hold of the other end of the table that I was trying to push. I had assumed it was one of the elves, but it didn’t contain an Irish accent.
I looked up from the arms to the face… and into the eyes of Robert.
Chapter Nineteen
Robert
“Why hello,” Gwendolyn said to me, as we maneuvered one table next to another.
Her cheeks were flush, and I couldn’t help but be happy that she looked excited to see me.
“I’d been wondering if I might be see you again,” she said.
“It’s nice to see you again, too,” I told her, and then wanted to kick myself.
I had planned to play it smooth and stay aloof. But now that my cock was rock hard at the sight of her curvy ass and perky tits, I found it hard to maintain my normally reserved composure. All I wanted to do was bend her over and fuck her silly.
I was quite sure that she had been spending a lot of time with my four friends. When I talked to them about it, they didn’t want to give up much information, but they seemed to hint that they were all... seeing… her at the same time. They kept telling me that I should join in on the fun, and that then I’d know what they’d been up to.
They assured me that I’d like it. But I didn’t believe them. The thought of that both repulsed and intrigued me.
Would it really be possible to share a woman with my friends?
A woman like Gwendolyn, whom I couldn’t seem to get off my mind to the extent that I had to come down to the Lucky Spell Pot just to see her again?
How in the world were they planning to make this work?
My alpha male side kicked in when I thought about letting anyone else be with the woman I wanted— even if I was there, too. On the other hand, I wanted her. And apparently, I didn’t have a chance with her unless I was willing to share her.
Would it be worth letting my jealous nature kick in to also satisfy my desires? I was too confused to think straight at the moment, or about Gwendolyn in general, at any time. I had told myself to forget about her and move on. But I seemed stuck— wanting her, needing her, even though that didn’t make any sense since I had just met her.
“I came down here to the Lucky Spell Pot because I just wanted a cider,” I told her. “I hear you have a hearty Harvest special— it’s all the talk around town— so I didn’t want to miss out.”
“That would be a travesty,” she agreed.
Then she winked at me. Fucking winked.
Why did she have to drive me crazy like this?
She clearly knew that I had come over here just to see her, and that the cider excuse was a bunch of bullshit. She was taunting me, torturing me about it. And I fucking loved it.
“Here you go,” she said to the crowd of people who had come in, once all the tables were pushed together. “You can sit here.”
“Thank you,” said one of the girls, a redhead, who didn’t seem to have as strong of an Irish accent as some of the others in the group. “We’ve heard such good things about this place. We couldn’t wait to come see it for ourselves.”
Gwendolyn smiled at them and said, “Well, I’m glad you did. Go ahead and sit down and get yourselves settled in. I’m going to run to the bar to get a beer for this patron here—” she bumped hips with me as she said that, and winked again, because we both knew I was more than just a normal “patron”— “but I’ll be right back.”
“Sounds good,” said the redhead.
“Yes,” I told her.
“Coming right up.”
As she walked by me, she brushed her butt against my pelvis, which was not something that was necessary for her to do, because there was plenty enough space in which she could have passed through.
“I can’t wait,” I told her.
This time I winked at her.
But as soon as she was gone, I felt deflated.
Because I was really fucking into her.
But that meant I was too into her to share her with my friends.
I had no idea how they did it. But I just didn’t think I could. Because if I was going to have sex with Gwendolyn, I would want her to be mine, all mine, and no one else’s.
Chapter Twenty
Gwendolyn
As I poured Robert’s cider, I was near giddy with excitement.
I hadn’t been able to forget about him, even with all the fun developments between the other four guys and myself. I wanted Robert, too.
And I just knew he wanted me too. I thought it was just harder for him to admit it than it was for some of the others. It seemed he could manage to come around, though.
A couple other people were shouting orders to me at the bar— it was nice to see the Lucky Spell Pot bustling again— and I hurried to get them the drinks they wanted. A few sprites were flying around, and wanted their thimble-sized beer steins refilled. Those were easy orders to fulfill, so I served them quickly, before finally picking up the cider I had poured for Robert and heading back over to him.
When I got back to the bar near where he was sitting— close to the tables he had just helped me move together— I sat his beer down in front of him and said, “Here you go. Sorry it took me a moment, but hope this was worth the wait.”
“I’m sure it will be,” he said, and then downed half of it while I stood there.
