Chapter 7—Bella
THE FAMILIAR SCENT of coffee and vanilla wraps around me as Seamus and I step into my café. I flick on the soft amber lights that line the walls rather than the harsh overheads. “Home sweet home,” I whisper, running my hand along the counter as I pass. The polished wood is smooth beneath my fingertips, worn from thousands of cups sliding across its surface.
A small brown blur zips past us, and Hecate materializes on the counter, her tiny paws making soft tapping sounds as she prances across the surface I normally forbid her from walking on.
“I expect snacks after this,” she says, sitting primly and wrapping her fluffy tail around her paws. “Preferably those cranberry scones you hid in the back. I know they’re there.”
I roll my eyes. “Of course you do.”
Seamus chuckles, the sound warm and rich in the quiet café. “Your dog has expensive taste.”
“She claims it’s her dragon ancestry,” I say dryly. “Apparently, hoarding pastries is genetic.”
Hecate sniffs indignantly. “Mock all you want, but when I breathe fire one day, you’ll both apologize.”
The necklace in my pocket seems to pulse with warmth, reminding me why we’re here. The enchanted message led us back to my café, though I’m not convinced anything is actually here. Still, we’ve followed the trail this far. “I should check the storage room,” I say, more to myself than to Seamus. “That’s the only place I haven’t thoroughly cleaned in weeks.”
Seamus nods, his green eyes catching the amber light. “Lead the way.”
The storage room sits at the back of the café, past the kitchen. I unlock the door with a key from my ring and push it open. The space is cramped but organized with bags of coffee beans stacked neatly on metal shelves, flour and sugar in labeled containers, and spare dishes and equipment tucked away in boxes.
“What exactly are we looking for?” he asks, ducking to avoid hitting his head on a hanging pot.
“I have no idea besides your gold.” I move deeper into the room. “Something that doesn’t belong, I guess.”
I start pushing aside sacks of flour and containers of coffee beans, checking behind and beneath them. The shelves are dusty in places I can’t reach during my regular cleaning, and I make a mental note to do a deep clean soon.
Then I stop cold.
Right there, tucked neatly on a lower shelf behind a row of spare mugs, sits a small wooden chest. The dark wood gleams in the dim light, the intricate Celtic knotwork carved into its surface unmistakable. “Seamus, is that—?”
He’s already moving past me, kneeling down to get a better look. He runs a hand over the lid, his eyebrows raised in surprise. He lifts the lid and whistles softly. “It’s here in this warded box. I guess they stored it in this for safekeeping,” he says softly. “I usually keep it in the bag on my belt.”
I stare at him, then at the chest, then back at him. “You’re telling me your precious gold has been sitting in my storage room this whole time?”
Hecate appears from nowhere, sitting beside the chest and looking thoroughly unimpressed. “Oh, she’s finally catching up.”
I whirl on my familiar. “You knew about this?”
Hecate licks her paw delicately. “I know many things. It’s a burden, really.” Then she looks sheepish. “I smelled it when we entered the storeroom, but it wasn’t here last night when we closed up.”
Seamus carefully pulls the chest out from its hiding place, setting it on the floor between us.
“This doesn’t make any sense,” I say, crossing my arms. “How did it get here? Who put it here?”
He looks up at me, his expression thoughtful. “That’s the question, isn’t it? Someone went to a lot of trouble to make me er, borrow, my gold and hide it in your café.”
I kneel down beside him, studying the chest. I lean forward, curious despite myself. Inside, nestled on a bed of deep green velvet, are dozens of gold coins, each one gleaming in the dim light of the storage room. They’re ancient-looking things, with worn faces and edges that speak of centuries of existence.
“It’s all here,” he says, sounding bewildered. “Every last coin.”
I sit back on my heels, trying to make sense of it all. “So, someone took your gold, thoughtfully put it in a warded box, didn’t steal anything, and planted it in my café? That makes no sense.”
“Unless the theft was never about the gold,” he says quietly.
Our gazes meet, and something electric passes between us. A realization begins to form, nebulous at first, then crystallizing into something clear and undeniable. “Someone wanted you to come to me for help.”
Seamus nods. “And they wanted us to go on this wild goose chase together.”
“But who would do that?” I ask, though I’m starting to have my suspicions.
Seamus and I exchange looks, confusion shifting into realization. Someone put the chest here. Someone with access to my café, who knew about Seamus’s gold and had enough power to take it from him in his realm and lure him back to Evershift haven. Someone who had the magical ability to orchestrate this entire charade.
“Let’s backtrack,” I say, standing up and pacing the small space. “The riddle pointed us here deliberately. The necklace being retrieved and enchanted meant someone had been watching us from the start.”
“And the ridiculousness of the whole hunt,” he says, rising to his feet. “It was never about the gold at all.”
The final piece clicks into place. Who had access to my café’s storage room?
I groan, covering my face with my hands. “Oh, my gods. It’s them. It’s ALL of them.”
Seamus raises an eyebrow. “All of whom?”
“The town,” I say, dropping my hands. “Everyone in Evershift Haven. Think about it. Who has keys to my café? Grizelda, for emergencies. Throk, because he installed the security system. Etienne and Crystal, because they sometimes use my kitchen for their midnight baking when the inn’s oven is being temperamental.”
“Everyone knows about my gold, of course. All leprechauns have a stash, but only a couple of possibilities spring to mind of who could finesse a spell across realms to extract it without me noticing. Lady Maeve, for one, but I’m not sure that’s her style.”
“Grizelda could do it,” I say grimly. “And who would have the magical ability to retrieve a necklace I threw into the Luminous Lagoon two years ago? Grizelda, Marina, Chronos. Maybe even Suzette and Candice Winters, who’ve both found magical ability since coming here. In other words, half the magical practitioners in town.”
Hecate yawns dramatically. “You two are so slow sometimes. Of course, it was everyone. Who else would care enough about your love life to go to all this trouble?”
I stare at my familiar. “You knew. You knew this whole time.”
Hecate’s tail swishes innocently. “I may have overheard some planning sessions. Hard to say. My memory is selective.”
“Unbelievable,” I mutter, marching out of the storage room and back into the café proper. “Absolutely unbelievable.”
Seamus follows me, carrying his chest of gold. He sets it on the counter and leans against it, fighting a smirk that’s threatening to take over his entire face. “So, the people of Evershift Haven stole my gold, hid it in your café, and sent us on a wild chase just to force us to talk to each other?”
Hecate hops onto the counter beside the chest, licking her paw with exaggerated nonchalance. “Bold of you to assume they were forcing anything.”
I cover my face with my hands, the realization washing over me that I’ve been expertly played by my own customers, neighbors, and friends. Every step of this ridiculous journey was orchestrated. All of it is designed to throw Seamus and me together, to make us confront our past and the feelings we still have for each other.
“I’m going to kill them,” I say through my fingers. “Every last one of them. Starting with Grizelda.”
Seamus laughs, the sound rich and genuine. “Come on, Bella. You have to admit it’s a little funny.”
I drop my hands to glare at him. “Funny? They manipulated us. They made you think your precious gold was stolen. They sent us all over town on a wild goose chase.”
“And in the process,” he says softly, “They got us talking again. Really talking.”
Hecate snorts. “A bit more than that, wouldn’t you say?” She quells slightly when I glare at her, but she’s clearly not really intimidated.
The anger drains out of me, leaving behind a complicated mix of emotions I’m not ready to sort through. He’s right. Without this ridiculous scheme, I would have slammed the door in Seamus’s face the moment he showed up at my café. I never would have learned why he really left, or that he still cares for me, or that the feelings I’ve been trying to bury for two years are still very much alive.
“I’m still angry with them,” I say, but there’s no heat in my words.
“Of course, you are,” he says, his eyes twinkling, “And you’ll let them know it, in your own way. Probably by making their coffee just a little too bitter for a week.”
I snort because he’s right. That’s exactly what I’ll do. “Throk’s getting decaf for a month. He won’t even know why he’s so tired all the time.”
Seamus laughs again, then grows serious. He rests a hand on the chest but doesn’t open it. Instead, he looks at me, his green eyes intense in the amber light of the café. “Now that we know what they were up to, what do you want to do about it?”
I hesitate, caught off guard by the directness of his question. The town obviously wants us back together. The question is, do I?
Two days ago, I would have said absolutely not. I would have laughed at the idea of giving Seamus O’Connell another chance to break my heart. Now, after everything we’ve been through, after learning the truth about why he left and seeing the genuine regret in his eyes... I’m not so sure.
“I don’t know.” The words are difficult to say. “This is all happening so fast.”
He nods, not pushing. “The LoveLuck Festival kicks off tomorrow,” he says. “Maybe we should sleep on it? Give ourselves some time to process everything.”
He’s right. The LoveLuck Festival begins tomorrow, and the entire town will be gathered in the square. If our friends and neighbors really are behind this matchmaking scheme, they’ll be watching us closely, waiting to see if their plan worked. “Yeah,” I say, running a hand through my temporarily green hair. “We should take some time to think.”
Hecate makes a sound suspiciously like a snort. “Humans. Always overthinking everything.”
I shoot her a look. “Not helpful.”
Seamus picks up his chest, tucking it under one arm. “I should get this back to my room at the inn so I can transfer it to my pouch. Keep it safe.”
“Good idea,” I say, suddenly awkward. After the intimacy we shared last night and the revelations of the past two days, I’m not sure how to act around him anymore.
He pauses at the door, looking back at me. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad they did it. Even if you decide you want nothing to do with me after this, I’m grateful for the chance to explain myself and make things right between us.”
I swallow hard, not trusting myself to speak.
“I’ll see you at the festival tomorrow?” he asks, a note of hope in his voice.
I nod, finding my voice at last. “I’ll be there.”
His warm, genuine smile makes my heart skip a beat. “I’ll find you.”
As he leaves, the bell above the door jingling softly, I’m left standing in my café, wondering what tomorrow will bring. The festival is starting, and this matchmaking scheme isn’t over yet.