Touch and Go

by Michelle Rowen

  “STUBBORN SON OF A BITCH.” Carrie crossed her arms angrily and glared at Patrick as he left the lobby. Then she slipped her hand into her pocket and pulled out the gold ring, staring at it for a few seconds.

  She’d lied that Erzulie had taken the ring back. She’d removed it from her finger and put it into her pocket when they’d been speaking with Will. She’d wanted to see what Patrick’s reaction would be when he learned it was gone.

  Now she knew.

  Carrie walked out of the lobby and out to the deck of the resort, then down the four steps to the beach. She slipped off her shoes and walked across the warm sand in bare feet, clutching the ring so tightly it hurt.

  She wanted to throw it away once and for all, hurl it into the ocean and be done with it. Patrick believed it was gone. Maybe it should be. If she held on to it she’d be no better than him, relying on a piece of magic in order to find an easy answer to a difficult problem. It made her so mad that he refused to budge on this issue.

  He needs time, she thought.

  No. Time wasn’t going to fix this. He was damn impatient. And the worst thing was, she couldn’t completely blame him. This wasn’t like asking him to give up drinking. Patrick had been injured, broken, and had lost part of himself because of that. If Carrie had been in the same situation, what would she want? Years of painful rehabilitation without the promise of regaining 100 percent of her ability? Or a magic charm that made everything go away in an instant?

  Yes, she understood. She wasn’t blind or unsympathetic to Patrick’s problem. However, would she have done the same thing as he had?

  She honestly didn’t think so. Reality bites, but it was the only thing that was…well, real. In a choppy, stormy sea of psychics and ghosts and curses and vengeful goddesses, she wanted to keep her anchor attached to anything solid.

  What she felt for Patrick was real. It wasn’t magically conjured.

  She loved him, flaws and all. But that wasn’t enough for him.

  She squeezed the ring tightly.

  “I don’t know,” she said out loud. “Keep the ring and be with Patrick, or stand by my personal beliefs and see if I’m enough for him. See if he chooses me.”

  “The ring is the easier answer, child.”

  Her shoulders stiffened. She didn’t have to turn to know it was Erzulie.

  “Of course it’s easier,” she replied.

  “But you don’t like easy? Is that it?”

  “If I keep the ring I’ll never know if he would ever have been willing to give up the healing charm.”

  “True.”

  “But if I throw it away, I might never be able to touch him again.”

  “Do you like touchin’ him?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re in love with him?”

  “I think so.”

  “Only think?”

  Carrie finally turned to look directly at the beautiful love goddess. “I know I love him.”

  “And does he love you? Or are you just someone he was able to make love with after a very long dry spell?”

  Carrie didn’t answer that.

  Erzulie laughed. “Humans are so amusin’.”

  “Thanks so much.”

  “What is your decision?”

  “I wish I knew.”

  Erzulie nodded and placed a warm hand on Carrie’s shoulder. “I can make it easier for you, child.”

  “As easy as making me the eye of the storm yesterday?”

  “You sound mad about that.”

  “We could have died.”

  “And what did I tell you? Opening yourself up to the passion that storms inside you is what gave you control.”

  “I’m still not perfect.”

  “Oh, my dear. No human is perfect. Not you. Not your lover. No one.”

  Carrie let out a shaky sigh. “You said you could make this easier? How?”

  “It all comes down to the fate of the ring. The ring that your lover thinks I have taken back from you.” Carrie nodded.

  “The ring I have taken back,” Erzulie said.

  Carrie gasped and looked down at her hand. The ring was gone.

  “But…wait, Erzulie, you have to—” She looked up, but the goddess was gone.

  It was over.

  She realized suddenly that she was crying. She stayed outside staring at the calm ocean for ten whole minutes before she gained enough control to go back inside and pack her suitcase.

  Patrick was waiting. He looked at her with concern. Her eyes were so red he would certainly have noticed, but he didn’t say anything.

  So near and yet so far.

  She’d never be able to touch him again.

  19

  GOING FROM PERFECT weather—aside from the odd tropical storm—back to snowdrifts was a rude awakening, to say the least.

  “I want us to still be friends,” Patrick said tightly to her at the airport upon their arrival.

  She nodded. “Of course.”

  “I wish this could be different.”

  “It can be.”

  “Carrie…”

  “You want to know the funny part?”

  “There’s a funny part? Do tell. I could use a laugh right about now.”

  “The ring didn’t disappear when I told you it had. It was in my pocket the whole time.”

  A spark of confusion, followed by a wash of relief, filled his gaze. “Are you serious?”

  “I am. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do. I thought about throwing the ring away.”

  “And did you?”

  “No.”

  “So…you still have it?”

  She shook her head. “Erzulie showed up and took it from me.”

  He frowned. “So nothing’s changed.”

  “Nothing.”

  “Why did you even bother telling me this? Just to hurt me?”

  She looked at him sharply. “Yes, Patrick. That’s little ol’ vengeful me. Just because we can’t sleep together again, I’m trying to hurt you. Honestly, the world does not revolve around you and your problems, you know that?”

  She expected him to be shocked at what she said, but instead he looked amused. “What am I going to do without you telling me like it is?”

  She swallowed hard. “You’ll survive.”

  This time, she was the one who walked away first.

  “THIS IS THE PERSON I’ve chosen to replace me as Carrie’s partner.”

  Amanda flipped through the pages Patrick handed her. “Jeremy? You’re kidding, right?”

  “Not kidding. He’s perfect for her.”

  “He’s extremely attractive. And single. And word has it that he’s a regular love machine. Women can’t keep their hands off him.”

  He tried to keep his expression neutral. “I’ve heard that, too.”

  “And you want Carrie to be partners with him.”

  “I think it might help.”

  She nodded, then turned away.

  Here it comes, Patrick thought. He wasn’t getting off that easy.

  Amanda turned around and there was the expected spark of anger in her eyes. “You’re such a complete and utter idiot, you know that, Patrick?”

  “That’s a little harsh.”

  “No, actually I don’t think it’s harsh enough. Why the hell are you giving her Jeremy as a partner? I thought you and Carrie were together now.”

  “We’re not.”

  “But you were, weren’t you?”

  “We…had a brief romantic relationship,” he allowed.

  “And what happened?”

  “Nothing. It was time for it to end, that’s all.”

  He knew Amanda meant well, but no one else had to know about his healing charm. It would just make everything more difficult.

  “And now you’re putting a piece of cheese in front of a mouse to see if she’s hungry?” Amanda threw the file folder onto his small desk. “Whatever this is…whatever this messed up facade is, I’m sick of it. You’ve changed. There is a serious problem
with you, isn’t there?”

  “I can deal with it myself.”

  She gave a frustrated sigh. “It looks like I’m talking to a brick wall right now, so I think I’m finished.”

  “Promise?” He tried to smile at her, but his face felt rigid.

  “Yes, I promise. I won’t bother you about this again. And I’m sure Carrie and Jeremy will get along just fine. He’s a great match for her, actually.”

  “I thought he would be.”

  “Good night Patrick. I’ll leave you alone. It’s how you prefer things these days.” With a last searching look, as if she was trying to peer into his dark and murky soul, she left.

  He was alone in the office. Everyone else had cleared out an hour ago. Leaning back in his chair, he flipped open the file on the irresistible Jeremy Draper, glanced at it for a few seconds, then slammed it shut. The jealousy was eating away at him and Carrie hadn’t even met her new partner yet.

  What the hell are you doing? he asked himself.

  He went through his voice mail. One was from a PARA board member asking him for the umpteenth time to consider returning to his position as agency manager at the Mystic Ridge branch.

  He deleted the message and stared at the receiver attached to his desk phone for a very long time. Then he grabbed his coat and headed out to buy a new BlackBerry to replace the one he’d lost. He wished all problems could be solved as easily.

  ONCE UPON A TIME, in a land far, far away, a magazine journalist named Carrie Stanfield was in total control of her life. She graduated college at the top of her class, got a great job, made fabulous friends and was generally—with only a few exceptions—a happy person.

  Then she realized she was telekinetic and everything went to hell in a handbasket as she tried to come to terms with this new and uncontrollable element in her life.

  Then she fell in love with an impossible man who’d haunted her dreams for two years. Make that two uncontrollable and unexpected new elements in her life. After a time, she managed to accept one of them—her telekinesis—and had no other choice but to reject the other. It wasn’t as if he’d given her any choice in the matter. He wasn’t willing to bend, and neither was she. And that was just the way it had to be.

  The end.

  “More wine?” Amanda asked.

  Carrie thrust her empty glass forward. “Yes, please.”

  The trip to the Bahamas was a week and a half ago, but it had stayed in her memory vividly. She’d really been hoping it would fade. At least a little.

  She was still waiting.

  She saw Patrick at the office a couple times when they first got back, but didn’t go out of her way to speak with him. That would have made the situation more difficult. For the last week she’d been with her new partner, Jeremy.

  Patrick had apparently handpicked him for her.

  Jeremy was gorgeous. Tall, dark and handsome. Funny. A charmer. A great agent. Plus, he talked to dead people. Even the dead people seemed to like him.

  He’d also indicated an interest in seeing Carrie socially as well as professionally. He was absolutely perfect

  Trouble was, Carrie wasn’t all that interested in perfection. It came with its own set of issues. And while Jeremy was handsome and a decent sort of guy, she wasn’t attracted to him. Not in that way.

  No, she was still interested in the imperfect man who’d made his choice for the future. A choice that didn’t include her.

  “I can order another bottle,” Amanda suggested. The new friends had gone out for lunch to celebrate Carrie’s decision to stay with PARA indefinitely rather than quit and head back to her old job.

  In fact, she’d been sent—with Jeremy—on another field assignment and just got back that morning. Five days in Alaska.

  Way fewer palm trees than the Bahamas. More moose.

  “No, really. I don’t need any more. What are you doing for dinner? I was thinking about ordering a pizza and could use some company.”

  Amanda frowned. “Sorry, but don’t you know what day it is?”

  “Uh…”

  “It’s Valentine’s Day. My husband is making me dinner tonight. My wariness about his cooking will not stop me from eating it.”

  Carrie shook her head as if to clear it. “Oh, well, of course. Valentine’s Day. Wow, I totally lost track of the date. Funny.”

  In fact, it was more than a little bit tragic.

  “Listen, Carrie, I know you said you’re not all that interested in Jeremy, but I have another guy you might want to go out with sometime—”

  “Are you trying to be my Cupid?”

  “I’m willing to give it a shot. Unless you’re still interested in Patrick?”

  “Who, me?” Carrie pointed at herself. “Don’t be ridiculous. Over him. Utterly and completely.”

  “Sure you are. By the way, this came in the mail for you while you were away. Postmarked from the Bahamas.”

  Carrie took the envelope with a frown. “That’s strange. I wonder if it’s from Will?”

  She slit the envelope open with her fingernail and pulled out a white card with a short handwritten note.

  In stormy weather, if a tree does not bend it will break.

  What the hell?

  The envelope held something else as well. She tipped it sideways and the contents fell into her palm.

  A gold ring.

  “What’s that?” Amanda asked.

  Her eyes widened and she looked at Amanda as the swell of emotion inside her threatened to spill over. “The ring. She sent it back to me.”

  Suddenly, her empty wineglass burst into a thousand pieces.

  20

  CARRIE LEFT THE restaurant in a rush, leaving Amanda sitting there confused about what exactly was going on. That made two of them.

  Erzulie, she thought. What are you doing to me?

  If a tree does not bend, it will break.

  The meaning behind that little message was clear.

  After quickly pecking at her cell phone keypad, she held it to her ear. He answered after four rings.

  “McKay.”

  “Patrick, it’s—it’s Carrie. I need to talk to you.”

  There was a long pause. “I have time. Talk.”

  “Not over the phone. Where are you?”

  “At the office. But Carrie—”

  “I’ll be there in ten minutes.” She ended the call. She didn’t want him to say anything that would make her change her mind about this.

  Bend, don’t break.

  Advice from a goddess should never be taken lightly.

  She hadn’t realized how much she’d wished to have the ring back until it was delivered. Funny how thinking something was impossible took it off the list of possibilities.

  Patrick sat behind the desk in his large office, surrounded by papers that he was reading through. He looked up at her warily as she stormed toward him, closing the door behind her so they could talk privately.

  “Carrie,” he said. “I didn’t even know you were back from Alaska already. The case went well?”

  “The ghosts haunting the location locked me and Jeremy in a room and then set the house on fire.”

  “Unusually violent, but not unheard of.”

  “Aren’t you concerned for my safety?”

  “Since you’re standing in front of me right now, I’ll assume everything worked out.”

  “I was able to concentrate and open the lock so we could escape. Just like we practiced before.”

  He smiled. “Good. So you’ve been practicing your ability regularly?”

  “Two hours a day. Every day. No more broken mugs.” Broken wineglasses in restaurants, however, was another matter altogether.

  “You seem—” his smile faded “—a bit disturbed.”

  “I am.”

  “Anxious.”

  “Definitely.”

  His eyebrows raised. “Pissed off, too?”

  “Big-time.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “What’
s wrong?” she repeated. “That’s a very good question. I have one for you.”

  He studied her guardedly. “And what is that?”

  “Are you still in love with me or was the Bahamas just a fling for you?”

  He stared down at his desk full of papers. “Carrie…”

  “It’s Valentine’s Day, you know.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “We’ve been back from the Bahamas for nine days.”

  “I know.”

  “Did you know my new partner’s really hot?”

  “Is he?”

  “Were you trying to get me to fall for a new guy so I won’t be a problem for you anymore?”

  His jaw tightened. “Jeremy’s a good agent. He’s patient and he has a lot of experience with training new recruits.” He blinked. “Plus, I figured that you might be looking for a diversion and I know he’d likely be willing.”

  She shrugged. “I only slept with him once.”

  Patrick’s face paled. “Oh. Then I was right.”

  She tried not to smile at his reaction. “I was just kidding. I didn’t sleep with him. But I’m glad that it got a slight rise from you. Was that jealousy or just plain surprise at me moving on so quickly?”

  “A little of both, actually.” He pressed his fingers together. “Not sure I’m in the mood for games today, Carrie.”

  “Then I’ll stop playing.” She reached into her pocket, pulled out the gold ring, and placed it on the edge of his desk. His eyes widened. “Erzulie sent that to me. I got it an hour ago.”

  “What does this mean?”

  “Another excellent question.” She turned and paced to the corner of his office, then headed back toward his desk. “I get the very distinct impression that she wants me to start wearing it again so you and I can be together.”

  His expression was unreadable. “And how do you feel about that?”

  “A week ago I would have been totally against it. I was mad, Patrick. At you and at myself. Not to bring up the whole control issue thing again, but I am a control freak. I like things to go my way. I’ve always been like that. And whenever I’ve relinquished control, at least in the past, things have gone badly. I get involved with men who treat me poorly and end up drinking and driving themselves to death. You, however…well, you’re way different than he was.”