Big Witch Energy - Kelly Jamieson Page 0,44

or if there was really a fire. It turns out someone on the seventh floor burned some toast.”

Well, that changed the subject.

In a way, I feel satisfied that I got her attention but also frustrated because I’m an idiot.

Conversation jumps around from the construction business to a customer at the Charming Chalice who came in with her emotional support snake, then on to local politics and some gossip about Ziggy Cox’s niece possibly having an affair with a state senator.

“Next weekend is Wendell’s wedding,” Felise comments, referring to her cousin. “What are you wearing, Romy?”

“Er… I don’t know.” She nibbles her lip. “I’m not sure if I should go.”

“What? Of course you should go!”

“You’re part of the family now,” Joe says.

She flashes him a weak smile. “I know.”

She’s met some of the extended family again after the night we told her she’s a witch, but considering how many people that is, it’s not a wonder she’s hesitant.

“You can come with us,” Felise says. “I’m bringing Cam as my date, but you can totally come with.”

Felise’s best friend besides her sister is Cam Wayland. They’ve been friends for years, and they both swear there’s nothing more between them than friendship.

“I don’t want to intrude,” Romy says haltingly.

Felise snorts. “No worries about that.”

I gather she’s hesitant about attending on her own. Which raises the question, why doesn’t she have a boyfriend? Why isn’t she dating? But if she was… I’d be annoyed.

“Are you bringing a date, Trace?” Cassie asks.

I shake my head. “Nah.” Inviting a casual acquaintance to a wedding gives women weird ideas.

“Then you can bring Romy!” Cassie says with a delighted smile. “Perfect.”

Oh fuck no. I look at Romy, my gut clenching.

She looks at the ceiling and sighs.

What the fuck? It’s bad enough that I have to see her every weekend for tutoring and then at least one other day for a family dinner. Now I’m supposed to survive spending a whole evening with her?

Cassie’s smile is hopeful and imploring. Once again, I can’t say no. “Sure.”

Romy’s jaw tightens.

So does mine.

Cassie lifts a hand, and a strawberry cheesecake appears on the table. “Who wants dessert?”

As Cassie cuts and plates the cheesecake, Romy says to me, “I guess we won’t be doing tutoring Saturday.” She looks pleased about this.

“Right. We’ll find another time.”

“Oh.”

Felise frowns at the piece of cheesecake passed to her. “I don’t like strawberry.” She points at it, and the strawberries turn to cherries.

Cassie sighs.

Felise picks up her fork. “Let’s go shopping and get you a new dress, Romy. Tomorrow night!”

“I’m sure I have something I can wear.” Romy accepts her own dessert.

“I’m sure we can find something better,” Felise says. “I mean, no offense, but your wardrobe is pretty conservative.”

“I don’t think a wedding is the time to break out her inner slut,” Magan says.

“Oh my god. I’ve told you I hate that word.” Felise rolls her eyes. “I’m not talking skintight sequins and cleavage. We can still be classy, just more… fun.”

“I’m coming too,” Magan says. “Just to make sure you pick something appropriate.”

“Of course you’re coming too,” Romy says.

She’s not offended by Felise’s interference, knowing her intentions are good. And she never lets Magan feel excluded even though she’s not as gregarious as Felise. She’s got these two down already. And that gives me a warm feeling in my chest.

Saturday and I’m back at Romy’s place, but this time it’s not to study. Today I’m wearing a suit and I’m picking her up to go to Wendell’s wedding.

She opens the door, and I have to hoist my jaw up off the floor. I blink a few times. “Hi.”

“Hi. Come in. I’m ready, I just need my purse and my phone.”

This is what I was afraid of.

Her dress is a bright orangey-red with spaghetti straps. It fits her curves all the way to just above her knees where a big ruffle swishes around her legs. When she turns away from me, it shows off her tight ass. I swallow.

I follow the ruffle down to her slender calves, then lower to her feet, wearing high-heeled sandals that are nothing more than two little beige straps.

She pauses at her kitchen counter and slips her phone into a small purse, then picks up a sweater and turns again to face me. This time I get the full frontal view. The ruffle at the bottom is shorter at the front, showing more of her legs. The V-shaped neckline isn’t particularly low, barely hinting at the curves of her tits, but it’s