the bed? Ew. Paying more attention to fantasy football than me? Saying ho ho ho after a big yawn?”
“What?” He scrunched up his face at that one and who could blame him?
“The point is, I need a trial run, but there’s a catch. A trial run might lead to nirvana, but it might also lead to…”
“Awkward?”
“Yes! Forever means something different to you, but what remains of my life is of preeminent importance to me. ‘Cause my time is finite.”
“What exactly are you saying?”
“No promises. Let’s just see if we light each other up.”
“You have a lot going on in that head, Rita. Are we doing this or not?”
“Yes,” I heard myself answer without hesitation, which was not like me at all. “But if things get icky, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“I’ve been put on notice and promise to refrain from saying you didn’t warn me about icky and awkward.”
“Keir.”
“Yes.”
“Would you like to come for a sleepover tonight?”
Keir’s handsome face spread into one of the smiles that never failed to make him even more beguiling. “I would. Does it start now?”
Suddenly anxious, I shook my head. “Um, no. Tonight? After supper?”
“How will I be able to think about anything else between now and then?” He brightened. “I know. Let’s do that thing.” I looked at him with a question on my face because people do a lot of things. “Take out!”
The evident eagerness radiating from Keir made me confident enough to want to preen. “Is the pub equipped for that?” He gave me a look. “Oh. Never mind. I forget that magic kind are always equipped for everything. But you know what? That would be silly. I’ll have Olivia make us something.”
“Even better.”
“What do you want?”
“Stroganoff. The way they make it at the Russian Tearoom in New York.”
“So. Towns like Hallow Hill scare you, but New York doesn’t.”
He shrugged. “New York scares me a lot less than Hallow Hill. In New York, nobody knows or cares what you’re doing. Hallow Hill is full of busybodies.”
“The classic response would be to ask what you’re afraid of them discovering.” He said nothing. “But I won’t. There’s nothing wrong with wanting a measure of privacy. But having supper with me at the pub, at six every night for weeks, is a fairly big public statement.”
“Is it?”
Clearly, he wanted to play dumb.
“Look. I’ve never been to the Russian Tearoom and I’m pretty sure Olivia hasn’t either.”
Keir’s smile turning seductive ramped both anxiety and excitement up a notch. “I don’t really care. I’m not coming for the food.”
“I guessed as much. But it’s still a work night for me. I made a commitment to begin prioritizing cases to be heard at Hallowstide Court Week.”
“Maybe I can help.”
I hadn’t thought of that. Certainly, Keir Culain had extensive experience. He’d been a ‘man on the scene’. His thoughts might be helpful and, over the past weeks, I’d come to appreciate his perspective on things.
“If it’s not against any rules?”
He shook his head. “You’re in charge of the rules, Magistrate.”
The idea of being powerful was going to be even harder to get used to than seeing centerfold-worthy gardeners morph into Tinkerbell.
I was calling out Maggie’s name as I rushed into the shop, noticing the front door was standing open, but not paying too much attention. Until I began to choke on the smoke.
She poked her head around from the back right away. “Right here.”
“What in hell, Maggie? Is the place burning down? Do we have a fire department? Call 911 and get everybody out!”
She sniggered at that. “The things you say. I’m burnin’ some herbs I got from Esmerelda to make sure that thing didn’t leave any bad jubee-wubee behind.”
I coughed. “Are you into hoodoo now?”
She shrugged. “Little of this. Little of that. Whate’er works. Do no’ tell the witch I get my supplies elsewhere. No point in needless hard feelin’s.”
“I’m sure that we have rid ourselves of all remnants of, um…”
“Jubee-wubee.”
“Yes. That. So can we get the smoke out of here before it permanently seeps into every aspect of shop and inventory?” Maggie waved her hand, said something in Irish, and every trace of smoke was gone, including the smell.
“That’s better. I have news.”
“I’m partial to news,” she said brightly.
I laughed, grateful to have full use of my lungs again. “You’re partial to gossip. It’s not the same.”
“’Tis,” she insisted.
“Not.” I held up my hand to stop the retort. “My new house. It’s a dream. And I’m already moved in!”