They were both in college, happily living off ramen, with no extra pennies to rub together.
The tab for this decorating spree was definitely ending up on my desk. Probably with a thud.
Holiday spirit wasn’t topping my to-do list. Heck, it wasn’t even on my to-do list.
With the shop approaching its five-month anniversary, I was more concerned with keeping the lights on.
“All the other shops on Main Street are decked out for the ghost walk. We need to look spooky to lure in new customers.” Arden returned to futzing with her cobwebs, careful to lock the door first this time in case her next victim was a potential sale. She could unlock it after the way was clear. “We need refreshments too. Mayor Tate expects us to man a table on the sidewalk.”
Mayor Tate and her expectations could kiss my full moon, considering the cost of rent downtown.
And yet...
The better I fit in, the longer I could stay, and I didn’t just mean in this prime location.
“I have that wonky folding table left over from the grand opening.” I bought it for twelve bucks at a thrift store. “Email me your Pinterest links—” we all knew they had compiled a list for this ambush, “—and I’ll pick up the ingredients.” I also scored a two-dollar glass punchbowl with matching ladle on the same bargain hunting trip. “I’ll make lime sherbet punch too. Or should that be slime sherbet punch?”
The girls routinely flooded my DMs with recipe requests for the long nights when I did my best to stress bake away my insomnia. Mostly food trending on social media. The number of snacks I sent home with them explained why they were cool with living off ramen. Because, really, they weren’t. They were living off me.
And I didn’t mind one bit. I might be cheap, but I was doing okay. I could afford to indulge them.
The urge to mentor, provide, and assist the young was carved into my bones. These girls fulfilled a need in me, one usually satisfied by training novice witches, and I had to keep investing in these girls, in this community, to scratch that itch.
“That’s the spirit.” Camber patted me on the head. “And, yes, the pun was intended.”
“Downtown has its traditions,” Arden agreed. “We need to cater to them to hold our spot.”
Our spot because these girls had worked for me the last four years, ever since I arrived in Alabama.
The old location of Hollis Apothecary was in my kitchen. This was a definite step up from selling online, though we still offered shipping through the website. Whether I could afford brick and mortar long term was a different kettle of fish, but I had saved up enough for a year at our current swanky location.
Our dream had seven months until its expiration date unless a miracle occurred between now and then.
“Oh.” Arden gusted a dreamy sigh. “Hell-o.”
“I didn’t pay extra for a glass storefront so you could stalk hot guys as they walk past.” I polished off my breakfast smoothie then tossed it in the trash. The romance, I took to my office for later. “Have you no shame?”
“Let me check.” She patted her pockets. “Nope.” Then pressed her nose to the glass. “I’m fresh out.”
“I wanna see.” Camber set down a bucket of spiders and joined Arden at the window. “Holy Mother.”
Their breath fogged the glass, obscuring my view of this perfect specimen of manhood.
Given their ages, he was probably late teens or early twenties. I owned older t-shirts. That I bought new.
“Crap on a cracker.” Arden stumbled back, bumping into Camber. “He’s coming this way.”
“The way you two were gawking at him,” I said with a snort, “I can’t imagine why.”
Poor guy probably thought they were trying to get his attention, maybe to hand out free samples.
“Everyone.” Arden smoothed the white blouse that topped her smart black trousers. “Act natural.”
Chuckling as they jostled for the prime spot nearest the door, I sat on the floor behind the counter.
“I’m going to inventory the dried flowers,” I announced as I got comfy. “Practice safe sales, ladies.”
Neither laughed at my joke, but I doubt they heard me over their racing hearts.
The frantic ba-bump, ba-bump set my fingers twitching, but I made fists until I got it under control.
Usually, I blocked it out, but the louder their hearts beat, the harder my stomach clenched with hunger.
I’m a white witch. I’m a white witch. I’m a white witch.
A metallic rattle brought my head up, but I couldn’t see the entryway over the counter.
“What in the…?” Arden groaned as if the world was ending. “I forgot to unlock the door.”
Metal clicked, and the door jiggled, but the lock was bad about jamming.
Getting that fixed really was topping my to-do list.
“Get out of the way.” Camber’s low heels clicked on the linoleum. “Let me do it.”
Winter rosebuds.
Inventory.
Focus on that.
Not their rising panic Mr. Perfect would give up on them and leave before one or both got his number.
Winter rosebuds.
They kept disappearing from under the register. I trusted Arden and Camber, but I would have to check the security feed, see if I could figure out who, or what, kept helping themselves to those specific items.
Glass rattled when the knob smacked the pane beside it, and I crossed my fingers neither one cracked.
“Hello,” the girls chorused. “Welcome to Hollis Apothecary.”
“The sign says you’re open,” a silky voice spilled into the store. “I’m not interrupting your break, am I?”
A hard thud shook my ribs, and all of a sudden, the only heart I heard was my own.
Ba-bum, ba-bum, ba-bum.
Murmuring a soft spell under my breath, I forced my pulse to slow and match Camber’s less frantic beat.
“Interrupt me anytime.” Arden hiccupped with nerves. “I’m Arden.”
“I’m Camber,” her best friend cut in. “You didn’t interrupt our break.”
“I was decorating—” Arden hiccupped again, “—for Halloween, you know? I was working in the entryway and forgot to unlock the