The Wedding Pact Box Set - Denise Grover Swank Page 0,213

assistant looked down and then back up, still on guard. “I know you do, Blair. Thank you.” And with that, she left the room.

Blair considered going after her, but she had enough on her hands. She’d deal with whatever was bothering Melissa later.

Megan and Libby were waiting for her in the restaurant when she arrived several minutes after seven. She prepared herself to be berated for being late, but they just smiled and held up their drinks.

“We started without you,” Libby said.

Blair cracked a smile. “So it would seem.”

“We’re still waiting for our table,” Megan added. “Let’s get you something.”

“Just water. I have a busy day tomorrow and a meeting with a potential new client in the morning.”

They both knew she wasn’t supposed to be in the office on Friday, but neither woman commented on it.

Libby took a sip of her wine. “I guess you don’t have to worry about your job now, huh?”

She thought about defending herself, but she doubted Libby meant it as a jab. She was just being sensitive. That thought almost made her snort out loud—when had Blair Myers Hansen become sensitive?

The hostess approached them a few minutes later and led them to their seats. They spent the next hour and a half talking about their jobs, their mutual friends, Megan and Josh’s life in Seattle, and a new photography project of Libby’s. The conversation steered clear of all topics even peripherally related to Neil, Garrett, and the wedding. Which left Blair with very little to discuss.

“I’ve heard this place has amazing cheesecake,” Libby said, taking a sip of her wine. “Want a slice?”

Blair laughed. “No way. I have to fit into my dress on Saturday.”

“One piece of cheesecake won’t hurt,” Megan teased.

Blair stuck to her guns. “Nope. I have enough things to worry about without adding the fear of being unable to zip up my dress.”

“Well, in that case,” Libby said, flagging down the waitress. “Let’s pay the bill and head over to the bar down the street and get a drink.”

Blair shook her head. “I can’t. It’s a work night.”

“Come on, Blair.” Megan tilted her head and gave her a pouty face. “It’s too early to call it a night. Who knows when we’ll be able to hang out again.”

She only had one meeting scheduled, so she could afford a later start than usual. Especially since it was officially her day off. “Okay.”

They left the bar and were heading down the street when a woman emerged from a doorstep and grabbed Blair’s arm.

She stared up at Blair with intense brown eyes. “Your fortune for five dollars.”

Blair tried to pull free, but the woman’s grip was like a vise. Her first thought was that the panhandlers in this part of town had gotten significantly more aggressive, but the woman didn’t look homeless. In fact, she was clean and fairly well dressed in a long flowing skirt and shirt. Tight black ringlets framed her face.

“I don’t think so.”

“I’ll pay,” Libby said, rummaging through her purse and pulling out a bill. “Come on. You have to admit you of all people need your fortune read.”

Blair’s body tensed. “You know I don’t believe in that crap.”

“Humor us.” Libby handed the money to the woman. “I’m paying for it. Consider it my bridesmaid’s gift.

“Fine.” She held out her hand to the woman, palm up. “Read it.”

The woman took it and shook her head. “I don’t read palms. I read souls.”

Blair didn’t hide her amusement. “By all means. Read my soul.” Her grin widened. “If you can find it.”

The woman’s eyes held Blair’s for several uncomfortable seconds before she spoke. “You are at a crossroads both professionally and in love.”

Blair’s smile fell.

“You’ve been cursed.”

Blair tried to jerk her hand free, but the woman’s fingers dug into her flesh. “Now this is just bullshit,” Blair said.

“It’s up to you to break the curse. Everything depends on making the right choice,” the woman said, releasing her hold. “You don’t have much time.” Then she smiled. “For twenty-nine dollars, I can give you a tarot reading. If you’ll just come into my office . . .” She motioned to the door behind her, and Blair realized they were standing in the awning of her psychic shop.

Blair turned to give Libby a scathing glare. “You set this up.”

Libby lifted her hands in defense. “No. I swear.”

Megan flashed the psychic a smile. “Thank you, but we’re going to pass.” She grabbed Blair’s arm and tugged her away.

“That was bullshit, Libby.” Blair felt her cheeks grow