Chapter 30 LOVE THUNDERS IN #2
Okay, so a Vespa would be nice, too.
But I’d miss Eddie and our doughnut-fuelled brainstorming sessions and getting to chat to athletes who were on track to live out their biggest dreams. So our work wasn’t glamorous or even global. I enjoyed it. It felt right to me.
I bit my lip. Was I just feeling that way because staying was easy? Or was my heart finally being honest with me?
I glanced down at my ring, but Josephine had gone silent.
I put the drinks away as slowly as I could, doing the job manually instead of with magic.
After the past few weeks, I wasn’t sure I wanted to be using magic for anything, anyway.
Everyone’s spells seemed to be going awry, like the time I’d come down with the flu as a kid and had deliriously cast a barrage of charms that had just about turned our townhouse upside down and inside out.
I’d possibly brought some gargoyles to life, and had definitely changed the coat pattern of the neighbourhood stray cat.
Meow.
Speaking of cats, Cleo was twining around my legs, her eyes plaintive and her meows similarly so.
I’d heard these meows before. Either when she was affronted about the lack of sardines in her bowl – which, given the hearty breakfast I’d seen her eating, wasn’t a problem today – or when thunder was rolling over the ocean.
I heard the whir of the golf cart and glanced out the window to see Finn and Noah pulling up, both equally testy. Finn looked as though he was about to stomp on some flowers or knock out someone’s letterbox, and Noah was so tense I worried he might pull a muscle. Or perhaps have a stroke.
‘Here comes that storm,’ crowed Tiff, her voice coming in through the open window. ‘I told you so! Your personal storm predictor remains infallible!’
As a little sister, I required proof when Tiff proclaimed something. Even though she was always right. I picked up Cleo and carried her to the French doors that opened out to the backyard.
Somehow, within the past couple of minutes, a dark, magical pall had crept over the sky.
Thick clouds sparked ominously, floating so low that they touched the water, which in turn was choppy and roiling, nothing at all like the usual flat, gleaming expanse I was used to.
They rumbled, the voice of the energy they carried sounding far closer than I was comfortable with.
Their attention drawn by my movement, Finn and Noah both glanced over at me.
The storm struck.
The sky clapped a sharp applause that coincided with a zigzagging flash, and Josephine’s ring burned hot on my finger. I swore, reminded of the time I’d put a jar of Nutella in the microwave, but had left part of the foil safety lid on.
Thunder boomed, rattling the house, and rain poured forth with the urgency of my en suite’s needle-like showerhead with the pressure dialled all the way up.
I could hear shouts of dismay as the others tried to fend off the pelting rain. Lara squealed, hiding beneath the bottom of Jack’s shirt, and Mom tried valiantly to rescue the cheese platter she’d just put out.
‘Not the Roquefort!’ she cried, using magic to protect her favourite cheese.
‘Party’s coming inside!’ called Rosie, racing in with a magazine over her head. A water-resistant charm shimmered around her, but it was only partially effective, and water trickled down her neck and across her brow.
Tiff tried to cast a protective spell over the outdoor cushions, but the charm went out with a fizzle. With an exasperated huff, she hurried in after Mom.
‘I hope they weren’t expensive,’ she said as she kicked off her sodden shoes. Although she knew they were. Everything Rosie owned was expensive – but not because she was obsessed with brand names and having the latest thing. She just liked quality items that would last for ever.
Rosie was wringing out her hair with a magically warmed beach towel from the wicker basket by the door. ‘Don’t worry, hon. They’re CharmBrella – they come with their own protection.’
Instead of joining the rest of us indoors once everything had been brought in out of the rain, Noah said he needed to check on the studio. He hurried down the path to the garden room, where it felt like he’d spent most of the summer.
‘Have fun with that,’ Finn called over his shoulder, striding inside and shaking himself off. ‘Everything that matters to me is right here in this room.’
His eyes twinkled as he met my gaze. He winked.
‘I meant my guitar, of course. But only because I need it to serenade you.’
He said it teasingly, but my heart thrummed with anxiety.
Because he meant it. I knew he did. I’d spent so much time with him these past few weeks, and I’d enjoyed every second.
It was a relief to not think about real life sometimes.
To spend my evenings strolling around town or sitting on a rooftop balcony shouting drunken compliments at passing strangers.
He ducked into the music room to grab his guitar, the beautiful instrument that Charlie had wanted desperately to complete as a gift for his family. Finn had finally finished it just last night, and it hummed as he pulled its strap off his shoulder.
Pointing the guitar towards Lara and Jack, he shook his head.
‘Are you two coming in?’ he shouted out into the garden, struggling to be heard over the pouring rain.
Lara and Jack were oblivious. They were like something out of The Notebook: mid-kiss, arms wrapped around each other, ensconced in the privacy of a torrential downpour.
A downpour that had a magical purple tint to it, I realized, as it wove around the soft glow of the fairy lights strung from tree to tree.
I was running out of time. Josephine’s ring had been warning me: the wayward spells, the strange weather when the boys fought. The way the ring itself seemed to be telling me off with its pinches and barbs.
And with the single moonstone that remained bright – but which seemed to be dimming as the day went on.
The ring sizzled against my palm, and I glanced up to see Noah stalking back in, hair plastered to his face and damp shirt clinging to his muscles in a way that was … well … revelatory.
He carried a painting carefully wrapped in a tarp. This he set down behind the couch closest to the kitchen before pausing to kick off his flip-flops and shake out his hair.
Lara and Jack came sprinting in after him, laughing and shrieking as the rain grew thicker and lightning flashed ever closer.
They were pooling rain all over the hardwoods. Fighting a wry smile, I reached into the wicker basket by the door and passed them each a striped towel.
‘I got some photos of you two,’ I promised.
Lara balled her fists in joy. ‘Yes! I told you, babe. She’s got an eye for this kind of thing. She’s going to be a killer addition to our team, aren’t you, Mol?’
I hesitated. ‘I, um …’
Lara frowned. ‘The Vespa?’ she reminded me in a sing-song voice. ‘Like, of the two decisions you’re facing right now, isn’t the one with the Vespa the easy one?’
‘Do we have to do this now?’ I whispered, trying to bespell the wrinkles from my shirt. ‘With everyone around? The boys?’
Thunder shook the house as I said it. The boys.
I couldn’t even turn to face Finn and Noah, but I could guess what had caused the storm to pick up again. Lara was waiting for an answer, and so were they.
Thankfully, Rosie gave me a momentary reprieve. ‘Boys, I need you in the basement. We need to get our candle-and-flashlight situation handled in case this storm gets worse.’
Finn grumbling and Noah stoic, they followed her downstairs to the yawning basement that mostly functioned as a storage room for Rosie’s cooking gadgets, skeins of yarn and baskets of dried herbs. Each in turn shot me a longing look over their shoulder. The air crackled with each stare.
When they disappeared out of view, I leaned against the endless cream sectional, anxiously drumming my fingers against its plush arm. My breath was ragged and my heart thrummed in my chest. I felt like the time I’d overdone it on the double espressos during college: stressed and jittery.
But I had to do this. I had to make my choices known.
‘Molly?’ Lara flicked her sodden towel at me. ‘Are you in there?’
Yep. Even though it felt like I was pretty close to an out-of-body experience.
I sighed. ‘I’m going to stay at Easterly. I’m happy there. It just feels right. I’m sorry. I know you must be bummed.’
Lara cracked up laughing. ‘Oh, Mol! That’s it? That’s what had you so worked up? I wasn’t going to force you to come work with me. And now I get a Vespa.’ She smiled, genuinely – with none of her usual Lara coquettishness. ‘But the offer’s always there, seriously. Scarletta loves your work.’
I blinked. That was it? I’d been torturing myself worrying about how Lara would respond to my rejection, and she’d been perfectly fine?
‘Besides,’ she added slyly, pausing to accept a cup of cider from Jack, ‘I had a pretty good idea of who you were going to choose to begin with.’
I took the cup Jack was offering and sipped, using the drink as a shield. Because she hadn’t been talking about the job, had she?