The Witch Get Witcher Read online

  “Yes, you do that. Do you want me to invite Flora and Granny, since you find it hard to tear yourself away from your billionaire to even make a phone call to your mother?”

  “Would you?” I’d known she would recognize Jacques’ name. She liked to know who was who, especially since she had high priced paintings to sell.

  “Yes, I can’t wait to tell them who you’re dating.”

  “He’s just a man. Don’t make such a fuss.”

  “He’s not just a man, he’s a billionaire. Wherever did you meet him? I heard he was a recluse.”

  “He was Donald’s boss.” Ugh. There I was again, forced to talk about Donald.

  “I vaguely remember that being mentioned. Anyway, gotta go.” My mother ended the call without even saying goodbye.

  CHAPTER 7

  O n Friday, Jacques had to leave for an early meeting and I was left alone in the penthouse. I hoped my family would like Jacques and it was hard to keep my mind from worrying about the dinner that would take place later that night.

  I still hadn’t checked Andrews’ handwriting and a strange feeling plagued me that the time wasn’t right to approach him yet.

  Not knowing what to do with a whole day stretched before me, I sat on the sofa thinking about my weird life and wondering if I ever would have met Jacques if Granny hadn’t had that romantic fling with the Alpha shifter.

  She reminded me of one of those black widow spiders who kill after they mate. That’s exactly what Granny had done to Herb—well, she waited awhile until Flora was born.

  Granny had only told me who Flora’s father really was and the weird thing was that Aunt Flora and Jacques were related. My head spun as I tried to work out how they were related. I think that made Flora Jacques’ aunt and half sister to Jacques’ uncle. I was never good at working out that kind of thing. As long as Jacques didn’t look anything like his grandfather, all would be well.

  I shook my head. There was no way I could go over and over the past all day. Needing a distraction, I picked up my phone and called Abbie’s number.

  “Abbie, I’m in the city. Do you want to catch up for a quick cup of coffee, or for lunch?”

  “Yes, that would be good. I’ve got a lot to tell you. Can we meet at the coffee shop across the road from where I work?”

  “Sure, what time?”

  “I can see you there at two thirty.”

  “Okay, I’ll see you then.” I tossed my phone down, pleased that she sounded a whole lot brighter. Maybe poor old Steve had proposed at last, or they’d found out at work that the man who’d been promoted over her had been stealing the petty cash or eating other people’s food from the fridge in the break room.

  As I dressed for my lunch with Abbie, I reminded myself to make sure she was

  staying away from the detective. My best guess was that the detective was onto something. And I already knew that he knew quite a bit more than he should’ve.

  I slipped into my stretch jeans and pulled on a white button-up blouse. Then I went back and forth over whether to wear my navy and white sneakers or high heels. I gave up and went with my wedge heels, figuring that was a good compromise.

  I got to the coffee shop early, and just as well I did because the place was crowded. After I quickly sat down at the only spare table, I caught the attention of the waiter who’d just taken an order from the table next to me, and before he disappeared, ordered a cappuccino.

  While I waited, I flicked through the emails on my phone trying not to listen to the conversation next to me. The couple was talking so loudly it was hard not to listen. They were making a controlled effort to be civil and arrange visitation for their son, Connor, for the weekends. The woman wanted the husband to have Connor every second weekend, but things got a little heated when the man wanted him every weekend and one day a week.

  Connor was lucky. I had no man—no father figure fighting over me. My father had disappeared from my life. I never remember him living with me and Mom and he probably hadn’t. One day, I might learn the real story of what had happened between my mother and father.

  It was a welcome distraction when my cappuccino arrived.

  After stirring the chocolate sprinkles into the froth, I happened to look up and I saw the detective walk past, looking into the building where Abbie worked.

  He must be hoping to bump into her again.

  My eyes fixed on him and I saw him get into a parked car just yards from Abbie’s building. Expecting him to drive away, I was surprised that the car stayed. It seemed the detective was either watching me or he was watching Abbie. Then my attention was taken by Abbie, who had stepped out of the building where she worked and was crossing the road, coming my way. She waved at me when she saw me looking at her through the window.

  “This is a nice surprise,” she said as she sat down.

  She looked much happier than she had at lunch the other day.

  I blurted out, “I’m taking your advice and my family is meeting Jacques tonight.”

  “That’s wonderful.” She popped her handbag onto the spare chair next to us.

  “I don’t know about that, but it’s happening.”

  The waiter came to take her order and she ordered a coffee and a pastry.

  “You’re not eating anything?” Abbie asked me.

  I shook my head. “I’ve already eaten at home.”

  “I’ve got something to tell you,” she said.

  “What is it?”

  “It’s Logan.”

  My heart sank. She’d been in touch with Detective Logan Andrews again. I swallowed my anger and tried not to grit my teeth. “What about him?”

  “I’ve seen him again.”

  I felt like saying, Me too and he’s stalking you! He’s sitting in that car across the road there now! Instead, I listened some more.

  “It was yesterday afternoon when I was taking my things to the dry cleaners. I stepped out of the store and then there he was on the sidewalk. I just couldn’t believe running into him like that. It must be fate.”

  “It must be.” Yeah, he just ‘happened’ to bump into you.

  “He said he was going to call me that night to see if I wanted to go out on Saturday night.”

  I dropped the spoon I was holding and it clanged onto the table. “What did you say?” I asked as I wiped up the mess I’d made with a napkin.

  “I said no and that I had a family function to go to.” She shook her head. “I just couldn’t bring myself to tell him I’ve got a boyfriend.”

  “He knows about Steve. You know that. He interviewed you both.” I took my cup out of the saucer and placed the soiled napkin on the saucer, pushing it to the side of the small round table.

  “I know, but he seems to be ignoring Steve’s existence so I didn’t want to bring up his name.”

  Nervously, I nibbled the end of my thumbnail. “So how were things left?”

  “He asked about the following Saturday, and I said yes.”

  “What about poor old Steve?” I asked, doing my best to hide my surprise at Abbie being a two-timer.

  “Well, that’s just it. I’ve got to break up with Steve before then. How do I do it?”

  I was heartbroken. Steve was so lovely and he adored Abbie. “Very gently. He’ll be devastated.” I leaned forward. “Look, Abbie, are you sure this is something you want to do?”

  “I just don’t see a future with him. I’ve given it a great deal of thought and I know he’s a great person and all that, but it’s for all the reasons I’ve already told you.”

  My brain was working overtime trying to think of something I could say to change her mind. “He might be good looking but looks aren’t everything.”

  “I know that.”

  “Detectives are on call all the time. You might be having a lovely romantic dinner, and then he’s called out to some grisly murder. And then I’ve heard that they don’t sleep, probably because of all the horrible images that run through their minds. They’re just like doctors—
on call.” I repeated the part about ‘on call’ because I couldn’t think of much else. I had to admit the detective was pretty gorgeous with his stunning blue eyes, his creamy tanned skin and his unusual light brown hair. I’d want him if I didn’t have Jacques.

  “You’re talking as though I’m going to marry him or something.”

  “But that’s what you’re looking for, aren’t you? You want someone to settle down with?”

  “I suppose I am looking for the perfect man.” She heaved a huge sigh. “I just don’t think I can stay with Steve anymore. No, I can’t and I won’t.”

  I stared into my coffee, really upset about Steve. He was such a good man, and I knew they were hard to come by. “If you throw him back into the sea, someone’s going to get a really good man. I just hope he finds someone who makes him happy like you do.”

  The waiter brought over her coffee and pastry.

  When the waiter was out of earshot, Abbie said, “Thanks for making me feel guilty, Destiny.”

  “I’m sorry, but I like him.” I shrugged. “What can I say?”

  “So do I, but there’s no future. It’s useless for us both hanging on just because we like each other and he’s a nice person.”

  “I know. That’s true.”

  “So how do I end it?”

  I slouched down in the chair. “You’re asking me?”

  “You’ve had a lot of relationships.”

  I glanced over at the couple who’d been arguing about their son and wondered how they’d broken up. “Yeah, but I’ve never broken up with anyone. I’ve always been the one dumped. Except for Donald, and he was murdered.” I wanted to tell her, And Donald was only using me to get information for Andrews, your hot detective. My track record with men had been dreadful until I’d met Jacques.

  Abbie sighed. “That’s true. I’m sorry about Donald.”

  “You could always do the old ‘it’s not me, it’s you’ conversation.”

  Abbie laughed. “It’s the other way around. You sit them down and tell them they’re okay, it’s you who has the problem. It’s not you, it’s me.”

  I laughed too. “That’s what I meant.”

  “I guess I could do that, and it’d probably be true. Although, it’s weird that he’s never mentioned marriage. I’m getting older every day.” She shook her head and leaned over to me. “Do you know how hard it is for women over thirty to conceive?”

  “No, but I have a feeling you’re about to tell me.”

  “We only have half the chance of getting pregnant of a woman in her early twenties. And also there’s more risk of miscarriage and birth defects—those things increase as we get older.”

  I pulled a face, not sure if I wanted to know all the negatives. “Thanks for cheering me up.”

  “Both of us aren’t getting any younger. You want children, don’t you?”

  “Yes, but now I’m depressed.”

  “Me too, and I still don’t know what I’m going to do about Steve.”

  “You could try the truth,” I suggested.

  “Tell him about Logan?”

  When I stopped choking, I shook my head. “No one needs that much truth. Just tell him how you feel. Tell him everything you told me, leaving out the part about the detective. Say that you feel as though you’re growing apart and going in different directions. He can’t be upset about that.”

  “Thanks. You’re good at this even though you never broke up with anyone.”

  “Well at least I’m good at something,” I said, never being able to forget my father’s words that I was good for nothing.

  CHAPTER 8

  A bbie glanced at her watch. “I’ve gotta keep an eye on the time. I can’t afford to go to lunch and never come back like I did the other day.” She rubbed her neck and her dark lashes fluttered. “That didn’t go down too well with the bosses.”

  “Go whenever you’re ready. How long have you got?”

  “Another fifteen minutes.”

  “That’s good. At least you can finish your food.”

  She munched on her pastry while I watched her eat, imagining how good it would taste.

  Looking up at me, she said, “Want some?”

  “No thanks. I’m not hungry,” I lied.

  “I’m sorry. We haven’t even talked about what’s going on with you. I’ve been hogging the conversation talking about myself the whole time.”

  “That’s okay. It’s been good to catch up again.”

  “What about you?”

  “You mean the dinner tonight?”

  Abbie nodded.

  “I’m just worried that they’re not going to get along. I know Aunt Flora will be okay, but Granny and my mother hate men. Also, my mother seemed to think it was good I was dating a billionaire. I hope she doesn’t embarrass me and say something stupid.” I grimaced, feeling embarrassed already at the thought of all the inappropriate things she might say. She could tell him I’d had a bad history with men.

  “So you’ve told her who he is?”

  “She asked me outright what his name was and she knew who he was. She’s impressed by money.”

  Abbie’s eyebrows rose slightly. “Aren’t we all.”

  “I guess.”

  “You’ll just have to go through it one step at a time. I can’t think of any advice to give you. I’m sorry.”

  I sighed. “Okay.”

  “Don’t let your mother push you around, though. You’re a grown woman and you make your own decisions.”

  I nodded, knowing Abbie had no idea what my family was really like. “I’ll just be glad when it’s all over.”

  “Is your Aunt Flora still dating the artist?”

  I nodded, thinking about Frizelle. “I can’t imagine a more unlikely couple, but she seems happy with him.”

  “Well that’s the main thing, and sometimes opposites attract.” She glanced at her watch again and then took a large gulp of coffee.

  “I should go.” She picked up her purse to get some money.

  I waved my hand. “My treat.”

  “Are you sure?”

  When I nodded, she stood and then leaned over and gave me a kiss. “Call me and let me know how the dinner went.”

  “I will, and you keep me up-to-date with everything that’s happening with you. Talk to Steve gently.”

  “I will,” she called out as she hurried away.

  I really wanted her to keep Steve around. As I’d told her, nice guys were hard to come by. Glancing out the window, I noticed the white car was still there and Andrews was still in the driver’s seat. I was positive it was the detective unless he had a double—a doppelganger.

  I pulled money out of my bag and left it on the table to pay for the food. When I walked out of the building, I crossed the road and headed up the sidewalk to see who was in the car. I intended to knock on the window and pretend I was just passing and happened to notice him. Then he would know he’d been caught out.

  When I was yards away from the car, it pulled into the traffic, causing another car to have to brake hard and then the car sped up the road. It had to be Andrews. Why else would anyone sit in the car that long and leave so quickly when I got close? I was glad he drove away because I hadn’t really wanted to confront him.

  I got a taxi back to the penthouse. I had intended to buy a new outfit to wear that night, but now I wasn’t in the mood. When I got out of the taxi and stepped onto the sidewalk, a boutique caught my eye. The store was situated a couple of buildings along from Jacques’.

  As I looked through the racks, it was comforting to know that I no longer had to be concerned about prices. The downside of that was that I almost felt guilty having so much money. I knew Jacques was generous in philanthropic ways with his money like many billionaires so that certainly eased my conscience.

  “Do you see anything you’d like to try on?”

  “Only this so far.” I pulled out a black dress that I was hanging onto.

  “I’ll put it in the fitting room f
or you.”

  “Thanks.”

  When the sales assistant came back, she asked, “Are you shopping for a special occasion?”

  “Dinner tonight. My family is meeting my fiancé. I’m a little nervous. I usually wear black until I lose weight.”

  “You don’t need to lose weight. You’ve got a lovely figure.”

  “Thank you.” I smiled at the woman who was a little older than me and heavier. I’d take compliments from anyone, even if they were selling me something.

  “We’ve got some new stock out the back I haven’t have a chance to put out yet. I think there was a nice black dress amongst them. I’ll have a look.”

  “Great, thanks.”

  When she came back, she brought out a black dress in a soft, clingy fabric with a high neck and a cut out keyhole at the front. It had long sleeves with the shoulders cut out.

  “That’s unusual,” I said.

  “Yes, it covers up but at the same time it’s sexy. And it doesn’t show off too much.”

  “I’ll try that on too.”

  “Good.” I followed her to the change room.

  “Is that all you’d like to try?”

  “Yes. I’m in a hurry.” When she closed the door, I ripped off my clothes and pulled the dress she’d suggested over my head. Smoothing down the fabric, I looked in the mirror. It was perfect. I couldn’t see if my behind looked big, but the dress was black so that didn’t matter much.

  Suddenly, the door opened and I jumped. “That looks lovely!” the saleslady said.

  “Thank you. I like it. I’ll take it.”

  “Have you tried the other one on?”

  “No. I’ll just take this one.”

  “Oh. I haven’t had a chance to tag it yet. It’s from one of our dearer designers.”

  “That’s okay. I’ll take it.”

  “Very well.” A smile spread across the woman’s face and she closed the door.

  While I pulled on my jeans, a sense of satisfaction spread over me at finding a dress so easily. I’d look into that designer to see if they might have more clothing to fit a figure like mine.