“Here you go!” Deva said, grinning as she slid a plate with a cheeseburger and fries in front of me. The roasted meat smell combined with the salty fries made my stomach growl in anticipation of the feast I was about to have.
“Thank you so much,” I gushed, looking down at the appetizing banquet in front of me.
“It’ll calm you right down,” she told me, winking, then reached up to pat her hair. Her short black hair had been swept back from her face; the dark curls pulled tight against her head. She wore all black clothes beneath a white apron. Not her usual chef’s coat and stripy pants, which made me smile every time I saw them. Around her neck, there was a big necklace, something I suspected Carol had given her. There was a sweep of glittery silver eye shadow on her eyes and her lips had a red lipstick the same color as her necklace.
“You look nice,” I said, picking up the giant burger and wondering how exactly I was going to fit it in my mouth without unhinging my jaw. “Marquis coming by today?”
She blushed. The warlock, and favorite doctor in town, had it bad for Deva. As much as I knew she didn’t feel ready to date again after Harry, I also knew she had feelings for Marquis. But as with most things in life, I wasn’t going to push. I just had to wait for her to realize it. Something I’d realized a while ago, one of those life lessons, if you will, was that most of the time there was only one person that could control you and your thoughts. You. If Deva wanted to date Marquis, she’d have to talk herself into it, or give herself permission to get over Harry and having been underappreciated and decide to take a chance on someone else. No one else could force her to do that though. It was all her.
“Maybe. I-- I don’t know. I just--”
“Either way, you look wonderful.”
She smiled. “Thanks. I’m feeling just a little like my old self.”
It warmed my heart to hear. Maybe she’d finally officially shut down her ex’s sad attempts to get back together and give the doctor even a tiny signal that she might be ready for something new. At this point I think he’d take even the smallest glimmer of hope.
A young server pushed past the little swinging door heading into the kitchen, his eyebrows knit together as though he hated what he was about to say. “Uh, I need help with a customer.”
“I’m coming,” Deva called as she rushed past me, heading for the dining room.
“Take your time.” I choked out the words around the huge bite of cheeseburger, laced with calming magic.
The instant the delicious bacon cheeseburger hit my taste buds, I moaned. Deva never skimped on the good stuff. Her food was always covered in things like multiple kinds of ooey-gooey cheese and crispy, melt-in-your-mouth bacon, not to mention the crunchy, tangy pickles that were hidden by the bun. Even the din of the kitchen, servers calling out numbers, cooks slamming around pans, none of it seemed to filter past the amazing sense of calmness and enjoyment that the incredible food left me feeling. Sometimes I even wondered if it was just her wonderful cooking that made me so happy, not even her magic.
For a while I just ate, completely in heaven. And because no one was looking in my direction, I didn’t care how “pretty” I ate. I took massive bites of the burger and stuffed fries in my mouth at the same time. Dunking what my ex would call a handful of fries in her homemade ketchup and managing to fit most of them in my mouth in one go. I was shoveling it in as if I hadn’t had a good meal in years, which obviously wasn’t the case, but this was Deva’s cooking we were talking about. This was something special.
When I finished my burger and reached for more fries, finding the plate mostly empty, I sighed and sat back. The food had hit the spot. I patted my belly as though I was rewarding it for the work it was about to do digesting everything. It was exactly what I’d needed, and now that my belly was full and I’d sat down for a minute, I’d calmed down.
Or maybe it was her magic? I had no idea.
“Okay.” Deva sighed and plopped down, her dark eyes focusing on me. “What’s going on?”
“Are you sure you can stop?” I asked with a grin. I didn’t really want to talk about what had happened even though I knew I needed to. “I’d be happy to sample some dessert or another while you work.”
She held up one hand. “Nope, I just got the last table’s meal out and we’ve stopped serving lunch. No meals until we prep for dinner.” Reaching out a hand, she smiled as someone put a glass of iced tea in it, the amber liquid and slice of lemon looking more than a little refreshing. “Like magic.” She took a sip and stared at me. “Spill.”
I paused and gathered my thoughts, sipping on my own iced water to buy some time. The slice of lemon that was floating on top of the ice in my glass gave it a nice tang. “Okay, so you know Beth’s sister, Tiffany, right?”
She wrinkled her nose and sipped. “Yeah, dead husband, awkward.”
“Right.” I took a crumble of french fry and popped it into my mouth, crunching on it before I continued. “So, she cornered me today after Beth had already left, but before I could escape to my car. Then, she told me she thinks Roger was…” I looked around the kitchen, what I could see of it, and dropped my voice as I finished what I was
