Chapter Four
At any given time, Luna juggled four to eight clients. Or better said, four to eight cases from various clients. The more extensive the cases, the fewer she accepted.
Marcus and his firm always seemed to pull in the time suckers.
It took three days just to skim the digital files.
In those three days Luna knew she’d need to shed some of her current clients as soon as possible.
She had an expert witness case that was due to go to trial the following week, three divorce cases, one of which was pro bono, and another business owner who suspected, and was right about, his business partner skimming money off the top and attempting to launder it.
Luna had a whiteboard on the wall of her office, which was a bedroom she’d called hers when her grandmother was alive. Victorian homes had such large bedrooms, at least compared to new construction, something Luna loved about the house.
She’d upgraded her old high school desk, computer, and bookshelves. Gone were the posters of pop stars and high school mementos. Those were all boxed up in the leaking attic.
Luna drummed her fingers on her desk while staring at her computer screens.
The monitor on her left held her conclusions, the one on the right displayed the company files.
The whiteboard flagged the sticky spots.
And there were several of those.
She picked up her phone, dialed Nate’s number, and put the phone on speaker.
“Hello,” he answered.
“Good afternoon,” she said before jumping straight into her questions. “How far have you gotten on the case files?”
“I’m great, thanks for asking. I haven’t spilled coffee on anyone in thirty-six hours.”
Luna pulled her tunnel vision away from the screens and sat back in her chair. “Sorry. When I’m dialed in, I assume everyone else is, too. Who wore your coffee this time?”
Nate chuckled. “Myself. I stubbed my toe on a moving box.”
“That’s never fun. Who’s moving?”
“I did. I’m not completely unpacked,” he said.
“Oh. Okay . . . well, if you haven’t gotten far—”
“No, no. I’ve read through the CliffsNotes and started diving into the parent company.”
“And your initial thoughts?” she asked.
“This case is going to take a while. Especially with only the two of us working it.”
Luna glanced at her whiteboard. “I agree.”
“What have you found?”
“There are several names signing off on the books. Looks like there was either a management purge, or exodus of employees three years ago.”
“I saw that. Are the numbers saying anything?”
“They’re telling me to start digging in the year before and after. And since we’re working together on this, I’d like to coordinate our efforts. Make sure we’re not overlapping.”
“Agreed.”
“I have to be in Denver for a trial on Tuesday. Can you focus your attention four years back and have something for me on Wednesday?” It was already late Friday afternoon.
Luna assumed everyone worked the weekdays during daytime hours.
But when you freelanced, there was no telling if weekends and nights were on the table.
For Luna, they were. Every hour of every day could be a workday.
“I can do that. Where do you want to meet?”
“We can Zoom.”
“I can’t repay you for the coffee over Zoom,” he said.
“True,” she said. “I’m up on Queen Anne Hill, where are you?”
He told her before they settled on a coffee shop in between both of them. “Let’s avoid traffic, say ten?” Luna asked.
“Perfect.”
“Great.”
She was about to say her goodbyes when he asked, “How’s the roof?”
Luna hadn’t expected his question. “Still holey. But the contractor thinks I might be able to get some financial help to fix it from my insurance company.”
“That’s good news.”
“We’re optimistic,” she said.
For a moment, the line went quiet.
“Nate?”
“Sorry,” he said quickly. “I hope it works out.”
His tone had changed, and his words felt rushed.
“Have a good weekend,” she said.
“I’ll try. Good luck at the trial.”
“I’m testifying as an expert witness. It’s not my case.”
“Even better,” Nate said.
“I’ll see you Wednesday.”
“Ten o’clock.”
Luna ended the call.
Why had his tone changed? The bounce in his voice had flattened, almost as if she’d said something wrong . . . but what?
Luna recapped their conversation and couldn’t find any fault.
With that behind her, she put her computer to sleep and ended her official workday.
Crystal and Clover was nestled in a patch of boutique shops and old homes that had been turned into retail space.
The outside of the store was framed with plants of all shapes and sizes. A park-style bench sat below one of the multipaned windows. On one side of the door was a water dish that offered a drink for the dogs that walked their owners.
It was dusk and damp.
Luna and Miley opened the glass door of the shop with the sound of chimes announcing their arrival.
The place smelled like incense and burning candles. Exactly like you’d assume walking into a store that sold what women had been burned at the stake for owning in centuries past.
An excited chill ran through Luna’s body as they let the door behind them close.
The petite brunette at the register glanced up with a smile. “Welcome in.” She paused, peered closer. “Miley, right?”
Miley glanced at Luna, then back to the woman talking. “Yeah.”
“I’m glad you both came.”
“Have we met before?” Miley asked.
“I’m Jorden, we spoke on the phone,” she said as she rounded the counter housing the register.
“It wasn’t a video call.”
Luna kept looking back and forth between the two of them.
“Uhm . . . you’re the only person who called that I don’t know. I assumed.” Jorden glanced at Luna. “And you’re the friend.”
“Luna,” she said, extending her hand to shake Jorden’s.
“That’s appropriate.”
Jorden shook Miley’s hand as well. “Have you been in before?”
“I always seem to walk by when you’re closed,” Miley said.
“Didn’t you just open?” Luna asked.
“Six months ago.”
“That long? I thought for sure you were brand new.”
Jorden sighed, “I get that a lot.”
A young woman with bright red curly long hair walked from the back of the store juggling a huge box.
“Where do you want these?”
“In the window for tonight, tomorrow we’ll shelve them,” Jorden said.
She turned to Luna and Miley. “This is Brianna. My number one employee.”
Brianna smirked. “I’m her only employee.”
The door behind them opened and another woman walked in.
“Hi, Shayna,” Jorden said.
Luna and Miley stepped aside when two more women followed.
By the time Jorden placed the “Closed” sign on the door, there were seven of them, including Jorden and her employee Brianna.
Jorden encouraged everyone to follow her into the back of the store where a room had been set up with cushions on the floor.
Crystals of all shapes, colors, and sizes were positioned around in a circle. At two of the cushions sat a notebook, a pen, and paper that reminded Luna of ancient scrolls with rough and burned edges.
“I set that up for you both,” Jorden said.
The other women seemed to already have a notebook, but each space had the same scroll-like paper and a pen.
“Make yourselves comfortable,” Jorden encouraged everyone. “If the floor is uncomfortable and you need a chair, I can get one for you.”
Luna glanced at Miley.
She shook her head.
“We’re good.”
Setting their coats and purses aside, Luna and Miley settled in, sitting cross-legged on the cushions.
Soft music you’d expect during a yoga session or a spa session hummed in the background.
“It’s cool, right?” Miley asked Luna quietly as they settled.
Luna nodded, unsure what to say.
The women were pleasant and varied in age.
Jorden herself couldn’t be much younger than Luna and Miley.
Brianna might have been closer to forty.
Two of the women in the circle had to be over fifty, and the woman that went by Shayna could have been anywhere from thirty to sixty.
Her hair was gray, but her skin was taut.
At least around her face. Her eyes were wise, her wrists full of bracelets, her fingers sported several rings.
The only thing she was missing was a long bohemian-style dress to round out what Luna expected to see when walking into the shop.
Once Jorden took her place, she started the introductions.
“I’d like to welcome Miley and Luna. This is their first ever full moon circle.”
That brought murmurs of approval and each woman individually saying hello in her own way.
“Before we get started, would you like to tell us what brings you here?”
Luna pointed to Miley. “She did.”
A couple of the women chuckled.
“We’ve been threatening to do this for a while,” Miley told them. “I work in an ER and completely buy into the power of a full moon. It has a way of bringing out the crazy and unpredictable in people.”
Luna nodded. “It’s kind of hard to debunk when I hear Miley’s stories.”
Jorden smiled. “Hopefully you’ll get something out of this, and if nothing else have the opportunity to expand your understanding of what we do here.
We’re not a religion. There’s no right or wrong.
We believe in the power of manifesting, letting go, forging your own path.
Awakening to your purpose, whatever that means to you.
Sometimes we meditate . . . and with good weather we take this outside in the fresh air and moonlight. ”
The image of a witch’s circle from the movies flooded Luna’s head.
Jorden looked straight at Luna. “Any questions?”
With a shake of their heads, Jorden started.
First, she tapped the side of a singing bowl and let the sound vibrate through the room.
The hum instantly calmed Luna’s nerves. Nerves she didn’t realize she was holding on to.
Jorden’s voice lowered. “We’ll start with a few deep, calming breaths. Close your eyes if that feels good or soften your gaze.”
She tapped the bowl again and Luna felt her eyes drift shut.
There were waves to Jorden’s voice . . . calm and tranquil. Nurturing.