CHAPTER 18
Three hours later, Lux stepped into The Whimsical Brew. The café’s cozy warmth immediately enveloped her, a welcome respite from her chilly thoughts.
Thoughts she couldn’t shake no matter how hard she tried to put them in clinical perspective.
She had dodged a bullet with Scott. Giving her heart to such a man would have been a recipe for disaster. Hell, he hadn’t even bothered to send her a text.
Probably because he was too busy doing all the sightseeing things with his betrothed.
It was time for Lux to focus on the rest of her life, which meant she needed to finish the challenge. The way she saw it, she had three cards from three different gentlemen from last night’s gala and three nights left to either prove Scott’s methods would not land her a rake, or admit she was wrong.
Her plan was to go on a date with each of the men…starting with Corduroy. She’d call him as soon as her meeting with Ms. Birdie was over.
The familiar scent of espresso cinnamon tickled her nose, causing her to sneeze. She removed a tissue from her purse, blew her nose, and scanned the crowded room, pausing to notice the little quirks that made the cafe unique—the eclectic mix of vintage and modern decor, the mismatched but charming armchairs.
Her gaze finally landed on Ms. Birdie, who greeted her with a generic wave and a poker face. A shiver of unease swept through Lux. What was with the blank expression? Was Ms. Birdie upset Lux had left last night before the gala ended?
Pushing past her trepidation, she smiled and wove her way through the maze of tables, the chunky heels she’d chosen to wear with the sensible dress clicking ominously against the wooden floor.
Today had been her first walk of shame. That had been empowering in an uncomfortable way…especially on the subway. She was a strong advocate that women should never feel bad about spending an impromptu night at a guy’s place. The philosophy in theory was lovely; in practice, it meant broadcasting your decision the next morning to anyone with any common sense.
She’d tried to disguise her walk as much as possible by borrowing a pair of gray sweats and a soft T-shirt from Scott’s wardrobe, but there had been no getting around the necessity to wear her stilettos with the ensemble.
One simply did not wear hooker heels with sweats unless one had just left their lover’s lair.
“Hello, Ms. Birdie,” Lux greeted.
Ms. Birdie stood, an aura of elegance surrounding her. “Please, have a seat. Time is short.”
Lux’s heart skipped a beat. “I was surprised to get your text.” Lux sat down, carefully placing her purse next to her using a bag magnet—germs were everywhere in Manhattan.
Ms. Birdie pushed a steaming cup toward her. “I hope you don’t mind. I ordered you today’s special—a caramel-infused latte with a hint of cinnamon. They’re known for it.”
Lux wrapped her hands around the warm fat cup, its fragrant aroma momentarily distracting her from her tension. “Then you’ve been here before?” She tried to sound casual. “It’s quite inviting.”
“This cafe and I have seen many a season come and go together,” Ms. Birdie replied, her eyes briefly flitting around the room with a wistful look that spoke of memories and secrets.
Lux gave the room another glance, her gaze landing on a vintage poster on the wall. It was adorned with intricate, old-fashioned lettering that read Spirits, Secrets, and Spells. She rubbed her arms, a sudden draft bringing goosebumps to the surface. She glanced around. There were no open windows or doors. Weird.
“That poster…I feel like I’ve seen it, or something like it,” Lux mused aloud. “Perhaps in another life.” Once her brain caught up with what her mouth had just said, her cheeks heated. Unlike her belief in her nightmares coming true when spoken before breakfast, she’d made it a practice in life not to reveal her beliefs regarding reincarnation to casual acquaintances. It was one of the few things she and Mother agreed upon.
Ms. Birdie’s eyes twinkled with a hint of mischief. “It’s advertising a business that is just down the street. You might have walked past it without even knowing.”
Lux chuckled. “That explains the chilling feeling of déjà vu. Have you ever frequented Spirits, Secrets, and Spells?”
Ms. Birdie, with a practiced grace, patted her red lips with a napkin, her jewelry clinking softly. “On many occasions. It specializes in the extraordinary and the arcane. Two realms I occasionally have a need for.”
“I’m trying to imagine a single situation in which you would need the arcane,” Lux said. The thought of Ms. Birdie, with her air of high society, delving into the world of the obscure was both intriguing and amusing.
“You’d be surprised how often those in my circle find themselves seeking peculiar solutions for unique problems,” Ms. Birdie said, her smile hinting at knowledge not everyone was privy to.
“Such as?” Lux asked, leaning forward.
Ms. Birdie’s expression turned cryptic, a hint of reluctance in her eyes. “That’s a lengthy discussion for another day.” Her tone was now more tart than sweet. Definitely not one that invited further nibbles of nosiness. “Shall we get down to the business of why I invited you here?”
Unease replaced Lux’s curiosity. “I assume it has something to do either with the gala or with the interview committee.”
Ms. Birdie leaned in, creating an intimate space between them amidst the bustling cafe. “Darling, when I sent you on this journey to prove you were right and Scott was wrong, I did so with the best intentions.”
“But?” Lux asked when the woman stopped there. “There is a but coming, correct?”
“But,” Ms. Birdie said, shadows of regrets in her eyes, “you know what they say about good intentions.”
“The road to hell is paved with them,” Lux finished glumly. “You asked me here to inform me I will not be given the position at Columbia regardless of how mine and Scott’s challenge ends. My reputation is too tattered.”
Ms. Birdie nodded, reaching across the table enveloping Lux’s hands with her own. “Don’t look so defeated. I haven’t abandoned you. I’ve a new plan. An improved one.”
Lux sighed, exhaustion making her shoulders heavy. An exhaustion that had nothing to do with how little sleep she’d gotten last night but everything to do with the emotional rollercoaster she’d been riding without a seatbelt. “I’m listening.”
Ms. Birdie withdrew her hands and sat back, her posture regal. “It starts with breaking the curse that prevents Scott from falling in love.”
Lux gave a half-assed derisive snort. She simply didn’t have the energy to pull off a convincing one. “Why would I care about his curse if my winning will net me nothing?” What would she do next year? Where would she teach? Without permission or warning, a tear slid down her cheek. She quickly wiped it away.
“Darling, this is not the time to cry over wayward plans.” Ms. Birdie paused and offered Lux a sympathetic glance. “It’s the time to look at a new set of blueprints.”
Lux frowned. Easy for her to say. Her life wasn’t circling the drain. “I should have never gone to Frankie. This is all…”
“My fault,” Ms. Birdie finished when Lux didn’t.
Lux blew her nose. She wasn’t a fan of the blame game. She was an adult, and no one had forced her to do anything. “I crossed a professional and on-air line. I have no one to hold accountable but myself.”
“Blame is a fruitless endeavor,” Ms. Birdie said, her eyes soft with empathy. “Right now, we need to focus on finding the best outcome for both you and Scott given the current news.”
“And that would be for Scott to win so he has the option of keeping his position at Naked Runway should he decide to abdicate from Shiretopia.” It wasn’t until she spoke the words out loud that she even realized a pathetic part of her hoped that was his plan. That he would stay and choose her over his country and his duties. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
Ms. Birdie gave her a startled look but nodded.
“I see,” Lux said. The Rake of Manhattan was absolutely not the right man for her. End of story.
Well…it wouldn’t be the end of the story. No, Lux had no doubt she would someday be a footnote in some PhD’s thesis. A thesis titled: Penis Gate. That time a professor blew up her career by publicly predicting the demise of a man’s penis.
Ms. Birdie’s gaze locked with Lux’s. “I promise if you help me help him, I will find a solution for you that will surpass your dream of landing the tenure-track position at Columbia.”
Lux offered a wistful smile. She liked Ms. Birdie. “I suppose I’ve nothing left to lose.”
“Then you’ll help break the curse?” Ms. Birdie asked.
Lux nodded as she allowed her analytical mind to kick into gear. “If it’s a psychological curse, I could refer him to a therapist.” And of course it was psychological. While this morning she’d entertained the idea of it being real, common sense said otherwise. Then again, common sense said her spoken nightmares before breakfast wouldn’t come true either, yet they had up until her broken penis prediction. Neither it nor the analyzed version had panned out. “A good one could help him work through whatever’s blocking him from accepting love.”
Ms. Birdie chuckled softly. “Oh, my dear, it’s far from psychological. His great, great and possibly another great grandfather managed to infuriate a wicked witch, resulting in a curse on him and all his first-born descendants.”
Lux raised her eyebrows. Ms. Birdie was turning out to be far more intriguing and way less conventional than Lux had initially assumed. “You genuinely believe in his curse? You don’t think it’s a fanciful tale Scott concocted to use as a pickup line in a bar?”
Ms. Birdie’s grin broadened, showing off lovely laugh lines. “A wealthy, handsome prince like Scott doesn’t need fanciful tales to garner attention. But really, how effective do you think a line like I can’t fall in love would be in a bar?”
Lux leaned back. “There is a certain type of woman who’s drawn to a man claiming his heart is irreparably broken. This type of woman is compelled to try to mend a man. Just as there is a type of woman who will fall all over themselves to prop up the man who complains his wife does nothing but tear him down.”
“Interesting insight,” Ms. Birdie mused. “But I can assure you, this curse isn’t a figment of Scott’s imagination.”
Lux tapped her chin as she thought, her training at high alert. “But could a curse be an imaginative creation of the ancestor who supposedly first incurred the witch’s wrath? His get-out-of-a-relationship-free card? And upon his death, the myth was passed down through the generations. And now Scott has simply accepted it as truth?”
Ms. Birdie leaned in closer, her expression somber. “He did not fabricate it, Lux. I have reasons to be certain.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“That’s where things get a bit tricky.” Ms. Birdie’s gaze shifted to a nearby table that had just become occupied. “It’s getting rather crowded,” she said in a voice barely above a whisper. “Shall we take a walk? Some fresh air might do us good for this part of the conversation.”
“Where to?” Lux pushed back from the table and gathered her purse.
“You’ll see,” Ms. Birdie replied.
Once they were walking along the bustling streets, Ms. Birdie spoke. “Tell me, Lux, do you believe in the supernatural?”
This felt like a trick question. Hadn’t they just been discussing the validity of a curse? “I don’t disbelieve, but I can’t say I’m a firm believer either. Why do you ask?”
“Because what I’m about to share will require an openness to the unseen, the unexplainable.”
Why the hell not? “I’m listening.”
Ms. Birdie took a deep breath, and Lux gave her a sideways look. What was so bizarre it required a steadying breath?
“A couple of years ago,” Ms. Birdie said, “a dear friend of mine passed away. After her death, I was unexpectedly invited to meet with a young woman named Molly Thorn. Molly possesses…certain skills that are quite unique.”
“Like what?” There were a lot of special skills that could fall into the unique category. Brain surgeon, professional ball player, encyclopedic knowledge of soap opera expert.
Ms. Birdie pulled her to the side and whispered, “She has a way of communicating with the dead.”
Lux laughed before she could stop herself. “You met a medium?” She tried hard not to double down with a pudgy-judgy look—which should be easy considering what she did for a living—but must have failed if Ms. Birdie’s pinched lips were anything to go by.
“She’s not exactly a medium in the traditional sense, but for simplicity’s sake, let’s just call her that.” Ms. Birdie waited for a couple to pass them before continuing. “I bring her up because when I discovered Scott’s curse, I couldn’t help but wonder if Molly Thorn could reach the witch responsible and negotiate an antidote.”
“Negotiate with a witch’s spirit?” Lux’s tone failed to hide her incredulity.
“Yes, barter, if you will,” Ms. Birdie continued.
“Was the bartering successful?” This was starting to sound like one of those paranormal romantic comedies Lux adored.
“As it turned out,” Ms. Birdie said, sighing, “that particular wicked witch had already turned to dust, making contact with her impossible.”
Was this the onset of a late-life crisis for Ms. Birdie?
“At least you tried,” Lux said.
“Fortunately, Molly has quite the network in the second veil,” Ms. Birdie added.
Lux had two options. She could steer the conversation away from the bizarre path they were traveling, or she could go all in and embrace the topic. She ignored the vanilla option and chose the fun one. “The second veil? Is that some kind of ghostly VIP lounge?” After just one short week with Scott, it appeared her taste in a lot of things had changed.
“According to Molly, it’s a realm where spirits with unfinished business congregate,” Ms. Birdie explained.
Then again, it would be negligent on Lux’s part to avoid signs of a problem, just because she’d gotten a taste for what it was like to live your life not thinking beyond the moment.
“Ms. Birdie, are you sure you’re feeling okay?” Lux asked in her Dr. Stone voice, half-expecting the woman to start talking about befriending Beetlejuice next.
“Yes, dear, I’m perfectly fine,” Ms. Birdie assured her, a hint of exasperation in her voice. “I know it sounds outlandish. Maybe one day, I’ll introduce you to Molly. Seeing is believing, after all.”
“That would be…enlightening.” And a hoot. Lux hoped Ms. Birdie followed through with that offer.
“Moving on,” Ms. Birdie continued. “Molly sought out anyone related to the wicked witch who might know about the curse on the Landshire first-borns.”
“And?”
“Well…not to bore you with the details,” Ms. Birdie said. “She unearthed a rather helpful detail about all curses.”
“Do tell,” Lux encouraged.
“The antidote to any curse must always be hidden within ten miles of the newest of the cursed individuals.”
“That is very thoughtful of whomever came up with the laws governing those who cast curses. It’s like evil with customer service.” How much money had Ms. Birdie paid Molly Thorn for this information?
“And the antidote must be hidden in plain sight,” Ms. Birdie added.
Lux bit her tongue until the desire to laugh had passed. “This Molly Thorn is full of fascinating tidbits. I bet she’s the life of every soiree.”
Ms. Birdie smiled wryly. “The wicked witch who cast the spell on the Landshires used a loophole in the rules and broke the antidote into two sections. The Landshires discovered the first half. In short, it states the curse can only be broken by a certain deed performed by a woman who loves the youngest among them. Which, in our case, is Scott.”
Lux’s eyes widened in mock horror. “Don’t tell me—that deed is oral sex. Am I right?” Hell”s fudging bells. Did I just say that out loud to this pillar of society? What is wrong with me?
Ms. Birdie’s lips tightened, her expression one of mild reproach.
“Sorry. That was crude,” Lux quickly apologized. “What exactly is the nature of this deed?”
“The specifics remain a mystery,” Ms. Birdie said. “That part of the antidote hasn’t been discovered. But it’s somewhere here in Manhattan within ten miles of Scott’s residence.”
“That’s all you’ve got to go on?” Lux asked, not bothering to hide her skepticism in her tone or face.
“Not all,” Ms. Birdie replied, tartly. “Molly received a cryptic hint from a good witch who is currently living in the second veil.”
“Of course it was cryptic,” Lux said. Cryptic was another word for vague.
“Cryptic,” Ms. Birdie said, with sharply raised eyebrows, “because she’s bound by a witch’s code of conduct which frowns upon one witch interfering with another’s handiwork.”
“What was the hint from the good witch?”
“‘Peculiar is as peculiar does, she’s hidden the answer just because. Seek within, where enchantment dwells, a place where secrets and magic swells.’”
“That’s it? That’s the helpful clue?” Lux asked. “It sounds like a riddle from a children’s book.”
Ms. Birdie pointed to the quaint shop they stood in front of. “According to Molly, the answer is through those doors. But, as I’ve stated, only a woman truly in love with Scott can uncover the antidote. To all others, it will remain hidden. Which is why, despite my giving it a go, I was unable to locate the antidote.” Her gaze lingered on Lux meaningfully.
Lux self-consciously touched her face. “What? Do I have whipped cream on my nose or something?”
After showering, other than a touch of mascara and lip gloss, Lux had not reapplied her makeup. Today, more than ever, she needed to feel like the woman she’d been before meeting Scott Landshire in person. The woman with a good head on her shoulders and a wall around her heart.
“Your face is fine,” Ms. Birdie said. “It’s your heart I’m looking into.”
“You can see my heart?” At this point, Lux wasn’t dismissing anything.
“Not exactly. But knowing Scott as I do, women can’t help but fall for him. I suspect this has happened to you. And I suspect the sensible side of you is now searching for a way to prevent those feelings from growing stronger,” Ms. Birdie said gently.
“What makes you think I don’t want to love Scott?” Lux asked, a hint of defensiveness in her voice. “He’s not a bad guy.”
Ms. Birdie looked at her speculatively. “You mentioned in your dating profile that you’re seeking a grounded man, someone who stays committed even when the initial charm fades,” Ms. Birdie said. “Scott, with his history and charm, doesn’t currently fit that description. That’s not to say he won’t eventually do the work to change. The question is, are you willing to risk your heart on that eventuality?”
Lux’s thoughts drifted to her mother—a cautionary tale of love gone wrong. The idea of falling for someone like Scott—charismatic but potentially fleeting—was terrifying. Better to guard her heart now than face life-altering heartbreak later. “You’re right. I may have given a section of my heart to Scott, but I can’t—I won’t—let those feelings take over my whole heart. It’s too risky.”
“Then you’re the ideal person to break the curse,” Ms. Birdie said, a trace of relief in her voice. “Going into that shop will empower you to protect your heart.”
Lux furrowed her brow. “You truly believe the curse is real?”
“I know it’s real,” Ms. Birdie said without a second of hesitation.
Lux nodded. “I trust you. And if you say it’s real, I believe you. That being said, how does my not wanting to love him make me the ideal someone to break the curse?”
“The contents of the spell were documented in the journal of the rake who triggered this curse. In one of my conversations with Scott, he recited to me the curse. It goes like this:
“‘This curse I cast upon thee can be broken by a loving heart deed.
But she who unknots his loveless heart will never win his forever heart.’”
The weight of the revelation hit Lux like a ton of proverbial bricks. The curse was a cruel twist of fate, a heart-wrenching irony that a woman in love could break the spell yet never claim the love she liberated. “That’s…incredibly sadistic,” Lux muttered.
“Wicked witches are known for their merciless curses,” Ms. Birdie nodded sadly. “You both will walk away from this with a heart that is forever bruised.”
“Not both,” Lux muttered. “Scott doesn’t love me. I’m not sure he even likes me. Prince Landshire will walk away from this with his precious job and an unscathed heart—and apparently a betrothed waiting for him back in Landshire once he’s sown all his wild seeds here in the States.”
Ms. Birdie studied her. “First, the betrothed is the result of an arranged marriage. One Scott does not plan on fulfilling. That’s why he left Shiretopia. He refuses to marry a woman he doesn’t love.”
“They sure looked like they were in love for the camera this morning,” Lux said grumpily, even as she wanted to believe what Ms. Birdie said. Wanted to believe Scott wasn’t a man who could sleep with other women while planning to marry another. Then again, he was a rake.
“Looks can be deceiving. Lux darling, I’m willing to bet Scott loves you. His heart just doesn’t know it yet.”
Lux scoffed. “Agree to disagree.”
“Darling, how could he not? You’re perfection for him.” Ms. Birdie said, giving her a sad smile.
“I don’t know about that.”
“I do, and what I need to know from you is…does being told he’s going to love you back as soon as the curse has been lifted—assuming it’s not you who breaks the curse—make you want to change your mind? Or do you still want to ruin all chances of you and he ever being together—all in the hopes of your eventually finding a man who more aligns with your views of the perfect man?”
On the surface, the thought made her want to cry. But beneath the murky waters, all her reasons for not pursuing love with a rake, with Scott, were solid. When it came down to it, she wasn’t a gambler. There was no such thing as a sure bet, let alone a bet where the odds favored a rake capable of forever love. Her best course of action was to find the antidote, give it to Scott, and remove any probability of the two of them having their happy ever after.
“Why do you believe the antidote is in this shop?”
Ms. Birdie gave her a sad smile as if she were a mother allowing her child to make a wrong decision so she could learn from her mistakes. “I’ve frequented this shop for years. After speaking with Molly on the matter, the vintage poster—the one you pointed out this morning—appeared next to my regular spot. Coincidence? Perhaps. Most likely, it was the Universe nudging me toward the answer to the riddle given to Molly by the Good Witch.”
Believing in the curse was one thing. Wrapping her head around this Molly woman was proving to be harder. Everything sounded too convenient. “Molly gives you a hint, and then a mysterious poster shows up. That, to me, feels very much like a setup.”
Ms. Birdie patted Lux on the cheek. “Molly Thorn doesn’t need staged theatrics to prove her worth.”
Before Lux could reply, Ms. Birdie pulled out her phone and made a call. “Carl, I’m ready.”
“Aren’t you coming into the shop with me?” Lux asked, a twinge of dismay in her voice. “How will I know if I find the antidote?”
“My dear,” Ms. Birdie said. “Only you will know when you find it.”
“Because I love him?” Lux asked.
Ms. Birdie nodded. “Now, I’ve done what I can do to help remove the curse from Scott and save you from falling for the wrong man. And, speaking of the wrong man, here.” She handed Lux several cards. “These are John’s remaining four cards. He wanted you to have all five. He very much wants to see you again.”
“I’m not sure I want to see him,” Lux said.
“The decision is yours, but let me just point out, he checks off all your boxes for the perfect mate. If those are no longer your requirements for the perfect match, I beg you to take a moment and consider what your new requirements are. It would pain me greatly were you to break the curse only to later discover Scott checks off all your new boxes.”
“Oh, fudge no. In no universe will the Rake of Manhattan ever be that man,” Lux said, wondering why her words didn’t ring with more conviction.
“From your lips to your fairy godmother’s ears,” Ms. Birdie said.
“What?” Lux asked.
A sleek black limousine pulled up. “Nothing. Just the babblings of an old woman.” Ms. Birdie stepped toward the car, then paused to give Lux a final look. “Remember, Lux, sometimes the most unexpected paths lead to the greatest treasures. Give John a call.”
Curses, ghosts, and fairy godmothers…oh my. Lux’s world might be in disarray, but nothing about it shouted boring.
Lux watched the limousine disappear into the bustling street and then turned toward the door of Spirits, Secrets, and Spells. But she didn’t put her hand on the doorknob. Not yet. She needed to think first.
The last time she had followed Ms. Birdie’s advice, it had led to unexpected complications. And this time, there was more at stake than a job.
Her heart was at stake.
A heart counting on her to protect it from being broken.
A heart counting on her to hold out for the perfect man to love.