CHAPTER 19
Lux stood outside the quirky store, her brain and heart in major conflict. While her brain kept playing the image of Scott at the airport with his betrothed in his arms, her heart kept shouting, ‘But what if?’
So much had happened in so little time, and it had all begun when she had spoken about the importance of giving others a second glance. When she’d asked Manhattanites to stop judging on first impressions. When she’d promised to give the Prince of Shiretopia, and his column RAKEish, a second glance.
In the process, she’d discovered he wasn’t all bad and his advice wasn’t all wrong.
Bonus, she’d unveiled first-hand that he knew his way around a woman’s body.
Of course, that last bit hadn’t happened until after she’d changed her outer layer to better match his image. That’s when they’d begun to click. That was knowledge she couldn’t un-know.
She’d also discovered more about the curse. While Scott’s mother had chosen to marry a man not in love with her, Lux wasn’t cut from the same cloth. There was no way she’d say, “I do,” to a man who wasn’t madly in love with his bride. That would be ill-advised.
Not that love guaranteed happiness, but it gave a couple a fighting chance.
How much of a fighting chance was up to the two individuals. If they had done their homework and knew what they wanted in a life partner other than love, the chance was decent. If they hadn’t, their chance of a happy forever was slim.
Curses and Ms. Birdie’s statement that Scott had no intention of going through with the arranged marriage that awaited him back home—and let’s not forget her prediction Scott would love Lux once the spell was miraculously broken by anyone other than her—aside, Lux had done her future husband homework, and Scott possessed none of her important requirements.
He wasn’t reliable. He wasn’t a homebody. He wasn’t a lover of jigsaw puzzles. He wasn’t a romantic—a romantic wouldn’t have left the bed of one woman to hurry into the arms of another. AKA—he wasn’t a one-woman man.
And yet, she’d somehow found herself on the precipice of loving him. And by precipice she meant one foot had fully stepped over the edge.
Which was why she stood outside of Spirits, Secrets, and Spells with every intention of entering. If she found the antidote to the curse and gifted it to Scott, according to Ms. Birdie, it would eliminate any chance of an entanglement between Lux and Scott because the curse had spelled out as much. It had gone something along the lines of: The one who loved him and broke the curse would never be loved by him.
She grabbed the old-fashioned knob, twisted, and tugged open the door. A melodic chime welcomed her. As she stepped across the threshold, she noticed the late morning sunlight streaming through the store’s stained-glass storefront window. The rays cast kaleidoscopic patterns on plaques that hung from the ceiling directing shoppers to different areas of the store and illuminated dust particles that swirled like tiny, enchanted fairies in the air.
“Good morning. Welcome to Spirits, Secrets, and Spells,” an elderly shopkeeper greeted, his voice a soothing melody that seemed to dance with the magical dust motes. “How may I assist you today?”
“Just browsing.” Lux twitched her nose, which itched from the subtle scent of aged parchment and exotic herbs in the air.
The shopkeeper nodded, his long, silvery beard catching a glint of the sunlight. A black cat, sleek and graceful, leaped onto his shoulder, her green eyes shimmering like emeralds as she stared at Lux.
“This is Ms. Princess,” the shopkeeper said, gently stroking the cat. “The two of you share the same unique eye color. She feels you are part of her clan.”
“It would be an honor to be a part of her family,” Lux said in good humor, watching, fascinated, as Ms. Princess jumped off his shoulder and onto the counter. Her movements were fluid, almost choreographed, while she edged closer toward Lux.
“Aren’t you just as pretty as last night’s sunset?” Lux cooed, scratching the feline behind the ears.
The cat purred loudly, then with a graceful leap bounded away, leading Lux’s gaze to an area labeled Spells. When the cat paused mid-stride and glanced back at Lux as if to say, “Why aren’t you following me?”
Lux did just that. “Coming.”
“Watch your step as she shows you around,” the shopkeeper said.
Each step Lux took seemed to echo with a soft heartbeat, as if the wooden floor beneath her feet lived. A sensation that bordered on eerie…or magical, depending on your mindset.
The cat jumped and landed on a heavily laden table, nearly toppling an ornate box off a pile of haphazardly stacked books.
It then turned toward Lux and mewed.
“Oh. You want me to pick that up?” Lux said, as if conversing with a cat was the most natural thing in the world.
The cat nudged the box with her head.
Lux picked it up and discovered it had a knob on its backside; realizing it was a music box, she wound it and then opened the lid. A haunting melody filled the room. One she didn’t recognize, but the shopkeeper must have because he started humming along, his voice rich with nostalgia and unspoken stories.
Inside the box, under a cockeyed faux bottom, Lux discovered a folded showbill. She pulled it out and opened it. Her heart stopped beating as her brain spun in circles.
The showbill was from a Shiretopian performance. No way could this be a coincidence.
Lux flipped over the aged paper, almost expecting to see that a Landshire had performed in the musical, only to discover a recipe had been scrawled there. A recipe for love knots.
Love knots.
Interesting. The curse had spoken of the one who unknots his loveless heart.
“Is this the antidote?” she asked Ms. Princess, who sat licking her paws as if well-pleased with herself.
When the cat didn’t reply—because of course she didn’t—Lux took a picture of the recipe and tucked the showbill back into its secret compartment. Now what was she supposed to do? She replayed the curse.
‘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.’
Would the loving heart deed be accomplished by simply giving Scott the recipe? Or did it require her baking cookies for him?
To be on the safe side, she’d do both. And then Scott would read the recipe, eat a cookie, and boom…the curse would be broken, and his heart would be free to love anyone but her.
“Which is what I want,” she said to the cat, which was busy giving Lux judgmental eyes.
When Ms. Princess continued with her look of reproach, Lux added, “Not that I expect you to understand, but for the good of my long-term happiness, I need all temptations of Scott to be removed from my life choices.”
Ms. Princess continued to judge.
Sighing, Lux took a step toward the door, only to stop in her tracks when the cat meowed quite loudly. Lux turned and glanced at the animal, who still stood next to the box. “What?”
The cat meowed again.
“She wants you to buy the trinket box,” the shopkeeper said. “Within it lies the answer to what you search.”
“How does she know I’m searching for anything in particular?” Lux asked, her suspicions on full alert.
The shopkeeper shrugged. “Ms. Princess long ago went through her nine lives. She’s now living in the second veil, where’s she’s been assigned the job of helping those like you.”
“Like me?”
“That is all I’m allowed to know, but I trust you know the rest, or you would have never attracted her attention. She’s quite finicky about whom she associates with.”
“And how do you know she’s a ghost?”
“I’ve seen her walk through walls. The question you’re really asking is how I know Ms. Princess has a job in the second veil. I received that information from a medium who stopped in one afternoon not too long ago. A lovely woman. I believe she said her name was Molly.”
Ms. Princess purred and pawed the box.
“Oh,” Lux allowed her fingers to brush over the musical trinket box as she pondered his words. If she was willing to dispend her doubt as to the validity of curses, why not ghost cats with careers? Doing so could not hurt, other than diminishing her bank account. Not doing so could mean the difference between success and failure. “It is lovely.” She could always give it to Scott as a wedding gift. Her way of proving to him that, even though a part of her loved him and that’s why she could break his curse, she had no plans to wilt away from a broken heart once he was out of her life.
The cat nudged her hand with a paw as if trying to help her make the decision.
“It’s the least I can do since you got me this far,” she said to Ms. Princess.
Lux gathered the box and brought it to the counter. “I didn’t recognize the song it played. Do you know its name?”
“I’m afraid not. The words just came to me,” the shopkeeper informed her, his eyes reflecting a depth of unspoken knowledge. “When that happens, it’s usually a sign of a shift in the universe.”
A chill went through Lux…because of course one did.
Her purse pinged, causing both her and the cat to jump. Lux pulled out her phone and saw a new meme in which she’d been tagged. It was of a prince and a princess getting married. Instead of a crown on the princess’s head, there was a frog with Lux’s face imposed on it. The hashtag read: #Alwaysthefrog-nevertheprincess “Rude,” she muttered.
Four hours later, Lux stood in her kitchen, a fresh batch of love knots ready to be delivered. She’d burnt the first three batches. Not giving herself time to think about it, she sent Scott a text.
Can we meet? I have a gift for you.—Lux
Three hours later, he replied. Three freaking hours. In that time frame, she added another item to her list of things her perfect man would possess. Timeliness. He’d show up to things on time. He’d respond to texts on time. He’d say I love you at the correct time. Not too quickly. Not too late.
Meet me at the comedy club on Wooster at 9:00 p.m.—Scott
For a hot second, she thought about ignoring his response, because it dawned on her, in the eyes of all of Manhattan, she was now the other woman in this scenario. He was betrothed. Then again, she’d be doing that woman a favor if the love knots broke the curse.
A woman Lux had no doubt was already in love with him. How could she not be? The Rake of Manhattan was too charismatic not to give him the key to at least a piece of your heart.