Chapter 27 #3
“Whoa! Easy there!” Luna fetched one of the mushroom tea towels from the rack by the stove and offered it to her boss.
He didn’t even acknowledge it. His eyes stared up at hers like he’d just glimpsed the most terrifying of all Dire demons, coming at him through the Void.
“Don’t be mad at her,” Luna said, frowning a little.
“She just needed someone to talk to about it all, and I happened to be there. She knows there’s nothing she can say that will shock or surprise me. Not about you, Mr. Grimm.”
His brow puckered, and his eyes seemed to spin rather in their sockets. “Wh-what did she . . . tell you exactly?”
“She said you ordered tea. She claims you then talked about your tea and how you prefer to take your tea. She says she couldn’t get you to shut up about tea.”
“Oh!” Mr. Grimm sagged. “Oh, is that all?”
“Yes. That’s all.” Luna chuckled softly, ignoring the little twisting knot in her gut.
She pushed the tea towel into his hand before she gave into impulse and started mopping him up for herself, which certainly would not be appropriate.
“She said she’d never had such a dull time in her life.
What were you thinking, Mr. Grimm? A girl like Bryony is not likely to be entertained by tea-talk, you know. ”
“Yes, I gathered as much,” he admitted dully. He took a few swipes at his trousers with the towel then just sat there.
Shaking her head, Luna turned away and picked up her own teacup again. She stared down at the little flecks of chamomile, watching how they swirled. Then, shocking herself, she added impulsively, “She did say you’re a good kisser.”
Color flooded his pale cheeks. Luna watched from under her lashes as he looked away from her, staring very hard at the stove. His jaw rolled from one side to the next before he finally said, “That’s something, I suppose.”
Luna frowned. She couldn’t read him. Not at all.
Which was strange—she would have said, after all these months together, after all this time they’d spent in one another’s company, that she’d come to understand him quite well indeed.
But there was something so closed-off about him.
Like even now he was fastening doors against her, blocking her out.
And she shouldn’t care about that, not when she was leaving so soon anyway, but . . .
But it hurt. It hurt so much.
“Well,” she said at last, reclaiming his untouched chamomile and stacking it with the similarly untouched Sniff-Me-Not tea, “maybe you ought to try again with Bryony? Might’ve just been nerves, you know. Something tells me the two of you will hit it off much better next time.”
“Yes. Maybe.” Mr. Grimm pinched the bridge of his nose, his expression faintly pained.
Luna turned to go before another stupid surge of tears could rise and make her do something indescribably foolish. She took a few steps, intent upon reclaiming the temporary sanctuary of the kitchen, but Mr. Grimm’s voice stopped her. “Miss Talbot?”
A little thrill shot through her, right down to her gut. Luna turned swiftly, skirts bouncing about her calves, too-full teacups sloshing into their saucers. “Yes, Mr. Grimm?” Gods, was that her voice sounding so breathy?
“I have a, erm, request to make.”
“Yes?”
“I need your permission to perform an act of sorcery.” He turned in his seat, looking up at her. His eyes were very cold, very stern. A little strange. “And I cannot tell you what it is.”
All the little thrillingness faded from her veins, replaced by a shot of ice. “Does it . . . have to do with the spell from yesterday?”
He blinked once. Slowly. Then: “Yes.”
“Did you not manage to resolve it then? With the spell you worked on the Heart Tree?”
He shook his head.
Luna drew a steadying breath. She didn’t like it. She didn’t want him working any sorcery at all. “You’re sure it’s necessary? For the protection of Garden, I mean?”
“It is necessary, Miss Talbot.”
“All right.” She nodded. “All right, do what you must. You have my permission. But . . . I’d rather not be present when you do it.”
“No!” His voice came in a sharp bark. Then he stood, and she suddenly felt as though he was taller than usual. Taller and darker. Even a little frightening. “No, indeed. I think it best that you not be here at all today, in fact.”
“What?” Her brow tightened. “You’re kicking me out?”
“No.” He shook his head and seemed to shrink again a little, back to something closer to his usual height. “I . . . I don’t plan to open the shop today,” he said. “I think I need a little time to, erm, recover. From the exertions of yesterday.”
There flashed through Luna’s brain a vivid image of her boss with his mouth on Bryony’s throat. Exertions my foot! she thought and clenched her teeth. But she only nodded and answered demurely, “Right. Of course. That makes sense.”
“We’ll open tomorrow,” he continued. “Regular time. And in the meanwhile”—he bowed his head, peering at her intently from under his brow—“don’t worry about a thing, Miss Talbot.
I’ve got it all under control.” He took a step forward then, reaching for the cups in her hands.
His fingertips brushed against her knuckles, and another traitorous thrill sparked up each arm.
Luna winced and drew back quickly, unable to meet his gaze.
“I’ll do the washing up, Miss Talbot,” he said. “You go on home. Enjoy your day off.”
So she was dismissed. Unneeded, unwanted. Unnecessary. Luna glanced up into his face, once more trying to read something there, once more finding it closed to her. He might not be her Mr. Grimm at all. Just some man. Some stranger.
She swallowed hard. “All right then. See you tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow,” he echoed softly.
She fetched her hat and coat, pulled them on, and stepped out from behind the counter, nodding to Debbie as she went.
She passed the double-delight, which waved its blooms at her, and the tiger lilies, which all seemed to be yawning in their pots.
She paused at the door, glanced back over her shoulder.
Mr. Grimm still stood behind the counter, teacups in hand. Watching her go.
Luna bit her lip.
Then, without a word, she unlocked the door, pushed it open to a tinkle of tiny bells, and stepped out into the cold morning light and the noise of passing traffic, leaving the sanctuary of The Arcane Bouquet behind.