11. Adrian
Adrian
T hree binders were spread open on the Huxleys’ kitchen table, each one overflowing with stained papers and crumpled ledgers. Adrian had pledged to digitize their books when he graduated from college three years ago, but he regretted making that promise.
Truth be told, David couldn't care less if the data was housed in an Excel spreadsheet or on the coffee-stained sheets of the binders. Adrian shook his head and puffed out an exasperated sigh.
Until recently, David had kept records in half-legible pencil smudges, making it almost impossible to track trends and productivity. Adrian had finished meticulously logging the summer’s data, which meant it was time to move on to the monumental task of entering the numbers from the previous years.
David had over twenty years’ worth of information in those binders, but Adrian guessed he needed at least five years’ worth of data to get a good handle on the trends—and an idea about what his father’s mistakes had cost them.
Part of the reason he had selected accounting as a major in college was rooted in his desire to take over this aspect of the business. Seth had majored in business but left college after just one year. Their parents had grown increasingly concerned with Seth’s disinterest in academics only halfway into his first semester.
Everyone knew that Adrian, always the more academic of the two, would fare better at school.
While Seth had spent most of his time in school partying and playing rugby—Hannah was particularly upset with his choice in recreational sports—Adrian had kept to himself and studied hard.
Even though he was encouraged by his mother to live on campus, he had commuted to class and took as many online classes as he could. He approached the entire experience with a one-track mind.
Finish school so you can fix this mess.
He sighed and drained the last few dregs of his beer. Seth was snoring from the couch in the next room. Adrian laughed to himself as he recalled the events of the morning that had led to his inevitable fatigue. He probably had a wicked concussion after the boat collision. Ariel was out with their mom, and David was mending nets in the back shed.
The house was rarely this quiet.
The serenity was fractured by the squeak of the screen door and the build of chattering voices in the foyer.
He heard his sister laughing in response to something his mother said in a stern tone, but the next voice he heard was softer, with a musical quality that certainly did not belong to one of the Huxley women. He looked up from the glare of the monitor to find Cori nodding to him from the hallway.
His heart leaped so far into his throat, he thought he would choke on it. “I knew my mom and sister would hunt you down soon enough.”
The flush in her cheeks evaporated into her skin. “They found me on the side of the road and invited me to dinner.” She fidgeted with the hem of her sleeve. “Apparently, there aren’t too many stray witches around here. They were nice enough to rescue me from cereal for dinner.”
He took off his baseball hat and ran his fingers self-consciously through his messy hair. She wore leggings that hugged the curves of her hips and a flannel shirt that she had tied in the front. Her wavy brown hair fell over her shoulders when she tucked a strand behind her ear.
Even though she seemed more relaxed than she had been in the storm this morning, there was still an edge of desperation in her face. Her eyes smoldered with intensity as she bit her lip.
He leaned back in his chair, twisting his face in mock disapproval. “You may regret leaving your cereal behind. My dad grills on Saturdays, and the brisket has been in the smoker about two hours too long.”
“Who dares to insult my brisket?” A deep voice boomed from the kitchen with the intensity of a crashing wave.
Adrian sucked in a deep breath and rolled his eyes. “Can you cool it with the Lord of the Rings impressions? We have a guest.”
David walked into the room with enormous presence, looking insulted. “First, that was not a Lord of the Rings impression, it was a Wizard of Oz impression. Second, the last time I checked, you don’t pay rent here, and you have never cooked me a meal. Until you do, you will happily eat my dry brisket without complaint.”
“Well, if I remember correctly,” countered Adrian with a playful roll of his eyes, “You owe me approximately ten years of salary compensation for a job I’ve been doing for free since I was in high school.”
“Excellent, I’ll inform the IRS you’ll start paying taxes effective immediately,” David shot back as he punched his son hard on the shoulder. Adrian winced. David was almost as tall as his son—and much rounder around the middle—but the man was still strong.
His father turned his attention to the mysterious new witch in town. “I’m David,” he said warmly. “I’m sorry you had to witness my son being a wiseass. He’s the smart one in the family, but he rarely wins arguments.”
Adrian shook his head at his father, who was dressed like a fictional fisherman featured on a box of fish sticks. His face was canvased with an unruly salt-and-pepper beard, and he wore stained denim overalls with a thick flannel shirt. His front pocket, missing a button, was comically held together by a fishhook. Adrian crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows as his father held out a bait-stained hand to Cori.
She shook it, her forehead wrinkling as she surveyed him. Despite his gritty exterior, David had a warm twinkle in his eye and the corners of his mouth were curled up in what appeared to be permanent amusement.
“I’m Cori,” she said, “I just moved into the guest cottage at Anne and Geoff Calhoun’s place. I just joined her research team.”
“Ah, Anne and Geoff are good friends of ours,” he returned with a smile. “She’s the only scientist I know at the marina who gets out on the boat before dawn. Every once in a while, I throw some of her fancy red doughnuts into the bay for her. No idea what she does with them, but my boat can get into some of the more remote sites.” He winked at her with a knowing nod.
Hannah bustled past, tying a blue linen apron that was smudged with flour around her waist. “Ariel, are you going to help with these biscuits, or what?” she shouted up the stairs.
Moments later, Ariel came clomping down the steps, texting feverishly on her phone as she marched into the kitchen with Hannah and David.
Adrian found himself in the room alone with Cori, and as he met her gaze, her cheeks paled.
“I bet you’re used to having other witches around you all the time,” he said apologetically. “For us, this is a rare event. My mom will probably bring out the fancy salad bowls.” Apart from his grandparents, Adrian could not remember them ever having another witch in their house.
Cori laughed, her posture relaxing a bit. “Well, less than ten minutes ago, I was getting ready to eat cereal out of a paper bowl, so fancy salad bowls would be a major upgrade. So is dry brisket, come to think of it.” She looked out the window, fidgeting with a delicate gold charm bracelet that had slid down her wrist.
“That’s a pretty bracelet,” he said awkwardly, grasping at the air for something to talk about besides his crazy family. The shimmering golden bangle was adorned with three jeweled charms. A sun, a moon, and a star.
She looked down at her wrist, her mouth twisting into a sideways smile. “Thanks.” She turned the charms over in her fingers. “My grandmother gave it to me before she died. One of the elders in her village blessed it with a luck charm. I never take it off.”
Cori breathed deeply and closed her eyes for a moment. When her large almond-shaped eyes opened again, sadness flashed within them.
“Does it bring you luck?” he asked.
She angled her face toward him. Her thick brown hair had a subtle golden sheen that highlighted her eyes. Her eyes reminded him of honey that had been left in the jar, solidifying into a gold caramel. He tried not to stare as light sparkled within them, like stars in the night sky.
She spoke after a pause. “Today it did. I was almost swallowed by the ocean this morning,” she reminded him.
The corner of his lip curled up as he held back a laugh. “Hmm, that was lucky,” he said mockingly.
Ariel swept into the room, shoving a pile of napkins into his hands. “Is my brother boring you to death with his endless math homework?” Ariel asked Cori, gesturing to the pile of binders.
“No,” she returned, tipping her shoulder up. “He wasn’t. But math doesn’t bore me.”
Ariel arched a brow. “That’s too bad. Come with me, Cori. Mom asked me to set the table on the deck.”
Cori followed Ariel through the kitchen door, and he couldn’t help his gaze from traveling down the soft curves of her hips as they swayed. When she glanced back at him and caught him staring, he could have sworn her eyes flared with gold before they widened.