I felt defeated. Flattened. How had Wanda put it? Like a soda with all the bubbles gone.

  I couldn’t let it happen again. My potions were supposed to help people, make their lives better. Not cause them physical injury. I didn’t even make potions that could be used as weapons for sale for that very reason.

  I hoped that poor girl was alright. I hoped she’d come back and I could make it up to her, somehow.

  Just as I was preparing to pull every single bottle back off the shelf to test each one and make sure all of them were labeled correctly, my phone chimed an alarm.

  My dinner with Andre. I’d planned to close a bit early so I could go home and get ready, but I wasn’t sure if I should even go now. With how everything was turning out, I’d probably just make a mess of it.

  Well, at least if the store was closed, no one could get hurt by an errant potion.

  Was I even going to be able to use the ones I’d already made from the new supplies?

  No. I scrubbed my hands over my face. This was terrible. Worse than terrible.

  So bad, in fact, that I felt like losing it right there—just collapsing onto the ground in a great heap of tears. But, no, I couldn’t do that. I had to hold it together.

  And what about Andre? I asked myself.

  I’d go out with Andre. It didn’t seem fair to cancel on him last minute when we’d been kind of dancing around things for so long. I’d go, and hopefully nothing bad would happen that might further hint to the crap that my luck had become lately.

  The door felt oddly heavy when I closed it behind me to lock up.

  ***

  That evening, I looked over the clothes I’d laid out on my bed, and realized I’d never felt less like going out. I still couldn’t believe I’d messed up a potion badly enough to actually injure a customer. All the potions I’d just made would have to be remade. I couldn’t trust them. So, not only was I running out of stock for the store, but I hadn’t even started on special orders or the potions for the festival. I’d also wasted money on ingredients that I couldn’t trust.

  The more I thought about it, the more it really felt like I should just stay in, try to track down another supplier who could send me high quality oils that were properly labeled, so I could get started on rebuilding my stock. Or maybe I should have tried my luck again with the company who had sent me the wrong ones? No doubt, they’d give me a refund...

  Either way, it probably wasn’t a great idea to waste my valuable time on a dinner date with a magician, no matter how handsome he was. Or how his accent made my toes curl.

  There was a knock on my bedroom door.

  “Mom? Are you ready?”

  The tense, unhappy coil of misery in my gut eased a little. No matter what else was going on, I still had Finn. He was the best thing in my life, and always had been. No matter what, we still had each other and that was something worth feeling beyond grateful about.

  “Not quite, sweetheart. I’m just picking out what I’m going to wear.”

  The door swung open and Finn bounded into the room. He looked over the options on my bed and his nose wrinkled up. “You’re not wearing any of those things, are you?”

  “What’s wrong with them?” I asked, bewildered.

  Finn snatched up one of the hangers and shook it at me. “A cardigan? Mom. You’re going on a date, not… not stepping out with your big cheese to go and do the jitterbug.”

  “Big cheese?” I tugged the hanger back, laughing. “Okay, you’ve been hanging out with Darla too much.” Though, I guess if someone had to be a bad influence on my son’s language, an ex-ghost flapper from the nineteen twenties was a better option than some. “What’s wrong with a cardigan, anyway?”

  Finn rolled his eyes and flopped back onto my bed. “You’re a mom. Not a grandma.”

  “Okay, okay.” I looked over the options again, but nothing was really grabbing me anyway. “What do you think I should wear, then?”

  Finn jumped to his feet, a determined look in his eyes. He headed into my closet, and I watched, a bit bemused, as he went through hanger after hanger, examining some clothes, doubling back, searching all the way to the very edges.

  “This one, for sure,” he said, voice triumphant as he pulled out a partially zipped up garment bag from the far-flung depths of my closet.

  The dress he’d chosen had actually been a Yule present from Wanda, and I’d been saving it for a special occasion. I didn’t go out much, other than work and the occasional cocktail night with the girls, so the dress had languished unworn for months.

  I took the hanger from Finn, and opened the bag the rest of the way, letting the deep blue fabric show. It shimmered, very faintly in the lights, feeling like cool water when I smoothed a thumb across the bodice. Well, surely a first date was worthy of being a special occasion.

  “Yeah? You think?”

  Finn nodded firmly. “Definitely.”

  I ducked into the bathroom to shimmy the dress up over my hips. It took a bit of work to reach the zipper in the back, but I managed to do it without dislocating my shoulders. I smoothed the skirt down carefully with my hands, enjoying the smooth feel of the fabric. Finally, I glanced up to look at myself in the mirror, and stared.

  Wanda sure knew her stuff.

  The dress fit like it was made for me, which I supposed it had been—Wanda had chosen the color and the cut according to my coloring and figure. And the enchantments had been woven for me too. The rich blue made my eyes shine and my hair look like gold. The skirt hit me a couple inches above the knee, the perfect height to be flirty, but still no chance of accidentally flashing people as I walked.

  I gave a slow spin in front of the bathroom mirror, grinning at my reflection. Wanda had a way of designing a dress that highlighted a person’s best features, and minimized any of their flaws. A dress like this, well, it was meant to make the wearer feel good about themselves, confident, like they could take on the world and everything in it.

  The careful enchantments woven into the fabric certainly helped, too.

  I did a twirl when I came out of the bathroom, grinning. “What do you think?”

  Finn smiled, bouncing on the bed a little. “You look great, Mom. I’m sure Andre’s not going to know what hit him.”

  He settled back, propping himself up on his hands as I grabbed my makeup. Meanwhile, Finn chatted away like he used to when he was younger. I listened, trying not to smile, as I carefully brushed mascara onto my lashes as he rambled on about a video game he and Marty had beat.

  “So, you had fun with Marty?” I tried to keep my voice neutral while I decided whether or not to bother with blush. My cheeks were still a bit pasty from my lack of sleep, so I blended a little bit of rosy pink onto my skin.

  “Yeah, it was really good. He told me about a house he and Henner and RJ checked out. No ghosts, but it was still cool. And we had pizza. And then Lacey dropped in, and that was kind of weird.”

  I smoothed a little gloss onto my lips, pressing them together. “Weird how?”

  Finn’s face scrunched up. “I don’t know. She was just really weird around him. And she called him ‘neighbor’, but I thought she said she lived up near us?”

  “Yeah, she does.”

  “Right, and that’s not close to Marty’s house.”

  “Hmm.”

  He nodded. “There was just something off about her.” He shrugged, uncomfortable. “Maybe she just has a crush on Marty, so she’s saying weird things.”

  I’d picked up a weird connection between them at the Half-Moon, but I’d been so uncomfortable at the moment that I hadn’t really thought about it. And I’d never gotten a chance to apologize to Lacey.

  “Hey, Mom?”

  The quiet question pulled my attention away from last minute touches, and I turned to face Finn. “Yeah, honey?”

  “I’m really glad you’re going out tonight with Andre.”

  I blinked, surprised. “You are?”

  “Yeah.” He wouldn’t look at me, focusing instead on picking at a loose thread on my comforter. “I like Marty, of course, and I always will, but I think you made the right choice, you know? I want you to be happy and follow your heart. And if that wasn’t leading you to Marty, then that’s okay.”

  I couldn’t cry. If I cried, I’d have to redo most of my makeup. So, I blinked rapidly, trying to keep the tears I could feel burning at the corners of my eyes from falling. “Well, I’m really... glad to hear you say that.”

  Finn squirmed a little, a flush staining his cheeks bright pink. “I just don’t want you to put your happiness on hold because you’re worried about hurting Marty. He’s a big boy, he’s moving on, and you should to.”

  I didn’t even know what to say, so I just focused on breathing around the hot lump that had formed in my throat.

  After a quick glance up at my face, Finn went back to staring at his feet. “And, I mean, Andre might not wait around forever, right? So, I’m glad you’re going out with him tonight.”

  And that was my limit. I took two big steps forward, and wrapped my son up in the biggest hug. “Thank you, Finn. That means a lot to me.”

  He hugged me back, but squirmed out of my hold when I sniffled. “Don’t cry, you’ll mess up your makeup.”

  “I’m trying,” I laughed, and sniffled again.

  He grinned at me, and bounced up off the bed to go grab his bag in the hall. “Have fun tonight!”

  “Try not to get turned into a frog,” I called after him, but he was already thundering down the stairs.

  Finn was spending the evening at the coven house with Wanda and the others. They’d agreed to try and help him with his magical practice, basic protections, that sort of thing. Wanda didn’t like that Finn had drained himself to the point of fainting, so she and Olga were going to see what they could come up with. It wasn’t a sure thing that witch magic and practice would work for him, since witch magic and Magician magic were pretty different flavors.

  I just wanted him to be safe. I wasn’t interested in holding Finn back, but that didn’t mean I was okay with him hurting himself, either.

  And that was enough of those thoughts for one night. Any more, and I’d be talking myself out of going out at all so I could stay home and make sure Finn was safe, which would just make him angry with me.

  With one last look in the mirror, I smoothed my hair back and was on my way. Meanwhile, anticipation fizzed in my chest like champagne bubbles.

  Chapter Nine

  The drive to the restaurant was longer than I thought it would be, but Andre assured me that the place was worth the trip.

  I was willing to go along with it, even when he pulled up outside a squat, cinderblock of a building with a deep red awning and a wooden sign proclaiming the place to be ‘Melted Bliss’.

  I gave him a questioning look, but he smiled and threaded our arms together before leading me to the door. And, yes, I got a sort of giddiness at his touch and the thought that this was potentially a real, proper date. Unless it wasn’t—in which case, I was fairly sure I’d be disappointed.

  Friendship could be the better route, I reminded myself, and tried to believe my own words.

  We stepped through the creaky door, into a beautiful foyer all done in black tile, with a gorgeous little waterfall built right into the wall. The basin was lit up with soft light, making the small room feel soft and intimate.

  A middle-aged man in a dark vest and slacks escorted us to our table, which had some strange attachments off the side. I glanced around the dining room, half convinced the place must be magical, because it was enormous. It looked so much bigger on the inside than it had outside, with huge high ceilings, soft lights, and a chrome bar gleaming like mercury.

  Even though there were quite a few other diners, the lighting, the soft music and the space between the tables made everything feel like we were the only people in the place. A curious look at the nearest table allowed me to figure out exactly what those little metal pieces off to the side were.

  “Oh, fondue!” I looked back to Andre, who held my chair out for me as I took a seat. Then he seated himself and busily spread his napkin onto his lap.

  He smiled, the corners of his eyes creasing. “I thought it would be something a little different.”

  When Andre had picked me up, I’d almost tripped on my own doorstep. It wasn’t that Andre didn’t dress well normally—actually he could have been the poster child for ‘smart attire’, but I’d really only ever seen him in sweaters and slacks.

  But he’d gone all out tonight, and showed up at my door in a black and fitted suit. A pewter gray tie laid against the snowy expanse of his shirt, and made his blue eyes look a shade lighter than I knew they were. The suit showed off the surprisingly broad line of his shoulders, tapering in at the waist nicely. There was something about the cut that struck me as different. It felt a bit old fashioned, not like the off the rack suits most people wore.

  All the nerves that had been nagging me all day and had me feeling like a spring wound too tight, well, they all melted away as soon as I opened the door and took him in. None of the first date jitters cropped up, no strained silences as we both tried to think of something to say, no awkward glances or fighting to keep from fidgeting.

  Like always, I was just comfortable in Andre’s presence. That feeling of familiarity, like I’d known him forever, it draped around us like soft cotton and had from the second he closed the car door for me. And once seated at the table, there was no trying to suss out what to order, or worrying about what I should or shouldn’t eat.

  I told Andre to order for us and it seemed in no time, the servers brought out platters of delicious things to be dunked in the cheese. There were cubes of bread, fruit and thinly sliced vegetables, bits of meat, and shrimp. But I couldn’t say my mind was much on the food. Instead, I couldn’t seem to tear my gaze away from Andre’s eyes.

  Ordinarily, I would have been nervous about dropping food on myself or talking with my mouth open or choking on my water. But I knew Andre wouldn’t care, he’d just laugh it off with me. I knew as much, like I knew my own name, but I couldn’t explain just how I knew it.

  Of course, I still had to be paranoid about dropping food on my dress, because Wanda would definitely hex me if I did.

  At one point, the server came around to light the little candle on the table, and I had to force myself not to flinch back. The memory of my dream, that roar as the gout of flames surged up, devouring everything in its path, caused an icy wash of terror to flood my body just at the sight of a jumped-up tea light. It was ridiculous.

  Andre noticed though, because, well, of course he did. He put his fork down so he could reach across the table to put his hand over mine.

  “What’s wrong, Poppy?”

  I shook my head and laughed, because it was so silly. I’d never had a dream, or a nightmare, that had affected me like that had. Days later, and I still couldn’t shake it. But I also didn’t want to focus on the silly thing, not here and not now. I wanted to look forward, and be hopeful and excited—I wanted to understand what this was or could be with Andre. I didn’t want to focus on the negative.

  “It’s nothing.”

  He didn’t look convinced, his brows pinching together with worry. I turned my hand over so that I could give his palm a squeeze.

  “Really, it’s nothing. Just a bad dream I had.”

  He smiled, but there was still a tightness to the skin around his eyes. “Well, I wouldn’t say dreams are nothing. At least, not in my experience.”

  I’d forgotten that Andre was a Dream Walker. He’d told me about it—how he was able to wander about while he slept, and he’d been able to do so ever since he was a teenager. Finn had started doing the same thing himself a few months ago, and Andre had been impressed at how young Finn had mastered it.

  I’d mostly been irritated that Finn was using this new ability to slip out in order to study more magic with Ouire. At least the sentient book had known not to give Finn tricks he wasn’t ready for.

  Still, the idea of Andre being able to stroll through other people’s dreams, to visit them while they were sleeping and speak to them, it was fascinating. A memory bubbled up then, more emotion than words. Everything about it was foggy, other than that I was hurting, and scared, and there had been a voice urging me to hold on.

  The server returned to fill our glasses, and the memory slipped away from me. Which was just as well, because I didn’t want to dwell on the past. Instead, I wanted to open myself up to the future and even though I was frightened, I wanted to open myself to the opportunity of romance—and, more specifically, with this incredible man. Yes, hurting Marty was still a concern, of course, but it was less a concern now that eight months had gone by and it appeared he might have been dating Lacey.

  “Do you want to talk about this dream you had?” Andre asked.

  I wondered, if I asked him to, if Andre would slip into my dreams and keep the nightmares at bay. Then I remembered some of the more romantic dreams I’d been having for the past month or so, and hastily banished the thought as they’d all featured him. I’d have spontaneously combusted if Andre saw any of them, for sure. It was everything I could do in the moment not to flush all the way to my hairline just thinking about it.

  I took a hasty sip of my water to distract myself, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw a flash of red. For just a split second, there was a red ribbon, faint as a ghost, wrapped around my and Andre’s joined hands. It was like a shimmer—just a spectral sighting that was gone as soon as it had come. But the really strange part was that I’d seen this red ribbon before. And each time I saw it—or the essence of it—I was with Andre. I’d just written it off as part of my magic being a little wonky after becoming part of the coven, but maybe that wasn’t it.

  I glanced at Andre and found him staring at our hands with a look that somehow managed to be elated, hungry, and nervous at the same time.