A Stroke Of Magic Part 6

G.o.d help me.

Chapter Five.

I sat at a little round cafe table at the ice cream shop, waiting for Ethan to show up. Granted, I was way early-like thirty minutes or so-but I couldn't concentrate on anything at home so figured there wasn't much sense in staying there. Besides, I'd needed a change of scenery and a quiet place to think. In a big way.

There weren't many people in the shop. I didn't know if that was the norm or just a by-product of a rainy Sunday evening, but at the moment it suited me perfectly. I made a mental note to stop in at various times throughout the next week, just to get a better sense of the store's customer flow. This wasn't part of my job, at least not officially, but having that information couldn't hurt. It might even help.

My eyes drifted to the front door again. I fidgeted in my seat. I'd chosen a table on the other side of the room from the one I'd drawn myself sitting at with Ethan, just to be sure no mystical love mojo was at play. Silly? Maybe, but it made me feel better. All I needed was to get through the next hour or so, and then I was meeting my sister and grandmother back at my place.

To discuss the soul mate issue. Apparently, Grandma Verda had some ideas on how to find my soul mate, and she wasn't taking no for an answer. Unless I wanted her moving in with me, it was smart to at least listen. But no way was I going to go ahead with anything soul mate related.

My stomach roiled with unease. Not just about the magic stuff, or the soul mate stuff, but about seeing and talking to Ethan. I'd decided to take the bull by the horns and bring up my pregnancy on my own. Like a responsible adult. Something I should have done in the interview process but hadn't because I'd still been reeling from the news.

But after last night, I no longer had a choice. Plus, out of all the things I'd blurted to Ethan, the pregnancy topic was, believe it or not, the one with which I was most comfortable. Maybe if I brought that up, he'd forget the rest. Because how I'd explain a ghost and a time warp to him was beyond me. I didn't even want to go there. Not just because of my job, but because I really, really didn't want Ethan to view me as a loon.

Fiddling with the straw in my soda, I tried to come up with the best way to raise the subject. I didn't allow myself to wonder why Ethan's opinion of me mattered so much. It just did, plain and simple.

"You look lost in thought," said the man in question, pulling out the chair across from me. Startled, I twitched slightly in my seat. Lifting my chin, I smiled, trying to look at ease. Of course, that didn't work so well, because Ethan Gallagher defied the laws of nature. Today, he was even s.e.xier than normal.

He looked as if he'd come straight from a hike or some other outdoor activity. Mussed hair, khaki shorts, and a sort-of-tight, sort-of-rumpled blue T-shirt made my smile widen. He appeared more natural dressed like this, more approachable. Not to mention more real, rather than a perfect specimen of an Irishman. But what really got to me was, instead of the smooth, clean-shaven look I'd become accustomed to, dark stubble-probably about two days' worth-graced his jawline. So he had that just-tumbled-out-of-bed, s.e.xy-as-sin thing going on. Heaven help me.

"I didn't hear you come in," I managed to say. Maybe he looked as if he'd just tumbled out of bed because he had? Was there a woman waiting for him now? I ignored the pang of jealousy that hit, because let's face it-whom he slept with was none of my business. "I was just wondering if the shop is usually this slow on a weekend evening." Even with my prior thoughts, the urge to reach across the table and run my finger along his stubble almost overcame me.

I resisted. Barely.

"Good question." His gray-eyed gaze pinned me, searching. "But before we talk about that, I have another question for you. I'd like you to answer it honestly."

Great. No beating around the bush for this guy. Time to suck it up and deal, right? Right. Pushing my inappropriate musings aside, I said what needed to be said. "I know what you're going to ask, so I'll just answer. Yes, I'm pregnant. I know I should have said something earlier, but, um, well, the father isn't involved and I've been trying to handle everything on my own." Okay. Not nearly as hard as I'd thought it was going to be. "I'm sorry about that."

He rubbed a hand over that s.e.xy jaw of his, never taking his eyes from mine. Which, oddly, wasn't uncomfortable at all. I saw compa.s.sion, understanding, and not one iota of pity. That helped me relax a little more.

"That actually wasn't my question, but now that you brought it up..." Breaking off, he shook his head, as if clearing cobwebs. He opened his mouth again, and then clamped it shut just as fast.

What was it with people not wanting to tell me things lately? It wasn't like I had FRAGILE, PROCEED WITH CAUTION stamped on my forehead. "Go ahead. You can say it. Whatever it is."

Uncertainty whisked over his features, which surprised me. In the short time I'd known Ethan, I'd never seen him appear anything but completely in control and comfortable.

"It's like this." He exhaled a short breath. "I've known about your pregnancy since shortly after you were hired. I've been curious about why you didn't bring it up, but it's a personal topic, so I wasn't shocked or put off at all last night."

He knew? His statement more than perplexed me; it dumbfounded me. "How did you find out?"

"Let's just say someone told me out of concern for you."

"Someone told you? Who?"

"I promised I wouldn't say. But it's nothing to worry about. Her intentions were the best."

I mentally went through the list of people who knew, which took like one second, because I'd only told two people. Out of those two, my money was on Chloe-but even that seemed hard to believe. "Chloe?" When he shook his head, I said, "Elizabeth wouldn't have said anything. I'm positive."

"That's your sister, right? The one who owns the bakery?"

"Yes. But how did you know...?" And then, without a shadow of a doubt, I had my answer. "You spoke with my grandmother, didn't you?"

Now, rather than centering on me, his gaze floated somewhere behind me. But his lips lifted at the corners for just a second. Ha! He'd wanted me to guess. My grandmother hadn't counted on that. "It was Grandma Verda, wasn't it?"

"Your grandmother called me a week or so after you started working at Enchanted Expressions. She asked if she could take me to lunch." His words were slow, and he watched me as if I'd dump my soda on him. You know the look: sort of a worried, what's-she-gonna-do, and should-I-get-the-heck-out-of-Dodge? kind of expression.

My jaw dropped. My eyes widened. I'm absolutely positive I looked like a gaping fish. "She took you to lunch?" I reminded myself that I loved my grandmother. And then I reminded myself again. Because at that instant, I kind of wanted to throttle her.

Ethan reached over and pushed my soda to the side. It wasn't necessary. I'm not the type of woman to dump a gla.s.s of anything on anyone. But that one little action told me that somewhere in Ethan's past existed a woman, or women, who'd done that to him. Even in my distress over my grandmother, curiosity flared.

"Yes, she did. Quite a feisty lady, your grandmother." The grin he'd tried to shield earlier emerged. "She impressed me. Intrigued me too."

"How long was this lunch? And what did she say?" Out of all the possible topics my grandmother could come up with regarding me, there were maybe only two-tops-I'd be okay with. Even those were a little iffy.

"Several hours, at least. But it wasn't all about you, so you can stop panicking."

Stop panicking? Not hardly. "What did you talk about?"

"Irish fairy tales and myths for the most part. Oh, and she asked me if I was a pomegranate. Do you have any idea what she meant by that? I found it the most curious statement."

Biting my lip, I shook my head. "She's a little quirky. I hope she didn't say anything, um, really out there."

Questions filled the air. "As I said, she had a particular interest in Irish folklore. She also said a few things about magic and ghosts that I found-"

"What things?" She wouldn't have told him about Miranda. Would she?

"You mentioned ghosts on the phone last night, as well. And a...what was it? Time warp? I take it you're a believer in the supernatural?"

"Oh. Hmm." How to answer without lying? Taking a page from Chloe's book, I went with, "I believe almost anything is possible. There are a lot of things in our world that can't necessarily be explained by hard cold facts." And yes, I purposely avoided mentioning anything to do with my short trip to what I a.s.sumed was the 1800s.

"I agree with you."

He didn't say it, but there was an exception there. I heard it loud and clear. "But?" I prodded.

Those perfect lips of his straightened into a line. "It's all well and good to believe in fortunes, magic, ghosts, and the like, but when these things lead people to make choices that defy the facts in front of them..." Coldness edged his voice for a millisecond, but then a grin came forth. In a warmer tone, he continued. "It disturbs me. Decisions should never be made based on anything but fact and intuition."

"But isn't intuition the same as the unexplained?" Even as I asked, I couldn't help wondering if he spoke from personal experience.

"Unexplained, maybe. But trusting one's intuition is quite different from changing your life because of a tarot card or a cheaply bought fortune at a fair."

Wow. Such pa.s.sion. Definitely personal experience. What would he think of Miranda's warning? Would that count as fact, because the warning itself was real? Or would he place it under the "cheaply bought fortune" heading?

Because I couldn't ask, no matter how much I wanted to, I put the conversation back on track: my loud-mouthed grandmother. "Why did Grandma Verda tell you I was pregnant?"

"She loves you. She just wanted me to be aware that you're in a fragile condition. She worries about you working such long hours when you're not used to it, that's all. Quite innocent, really. And very sweet."

"Fragile condition? I'm not fragile," I muttered. "Besides, I've always worked long hours, just not like this." I so couldn't wait to talk to her later. Of course, I'd have to be careful, because I didn't want to upset her. But she was going to know this wasn't something I appreciated. At all.

"I understand that. But don't be too hard on her."

"And you...why did you promise you wouldn't tell me?"

A ruddy flush stole from the top of his angled cheekbones down to the edge of his jaw. For once, he was blushing around me. Kind of cool, even if I wasn't all that happy about the reason.

"You see, Alice...she sort of sneaked that in. I never saw it coming." He drummed his fingers on the table. "What can I say? She reminded me of my own grandmother, and I fell for her charms."

My anxiety disappeared in a flash. A man who could be charmed by a slightly wacky, weirdly dressed elderly lady softened everything inside of me. "She is pretty charming. But that doesn't make it right. It should have come from me."

"It would have been nice but not necessary. The law protects you on this. Surely you know that."

"Yes, but it's about more than that. I was getting around to telling you, really. I just haven't shared this with most of my family yet." Which was clearly going to have to happen soon, before Grandma Verda decided to do it for me.

My announcement seemed to startle him. "I a.s.sumed your family was close. Is there a reason you haven't said anything?" As soon as he asked the question, he held a hand up. "Don't answer that. I'm sorry. I don't mean to pry into your personal life. It's none of my business."

"I don't mind." And weirdly, I didn't. "I didn't plan this. The timing hasn't been right yet. That's all. But it's not like I'll be able to keep it a secret forever."

The compa.s.sion from earlier returned. He reached over, grasped one of my hands, squeezed, and then let go. In the less than ten seconds our hands touched, a glimmer of something pa.s.sed between us. Desire? Yes, but something more. And since I barely knew this man, it more than confused me. It scared the h.e.l.l out of me.

Suddenly, the moment became too much. In an effort to bring the conversation around to the less personal, I said, "So, what was the question you were going to ask me before I jumped the gun?"

He hadn't antic.i.p.ated the change of topic; that was evident by the flicker of light that hit his stormy gray eyes. But he went with it, no questions asked. Well, except for one.

"Oh. Right." He cleared his throat. "Is something going on with Missy that I should know about? I've noticed there seems to be some type of friction between the two of you."

Yep. The man noticed the details. "I have no idea. I don't have a problem with her, but she sure doesn't like me. Or at least that's my impression. Has she said anything to you?"

"She hasn't. But her behavior is unusual. The entire time I've known Missy, she's proven herself a valuable employee, happy to work with others, and has thrived in our team environment." He scrunched his eyebrows together in thought. "I hope everything's okay. I'll have a chat with her later this week."

"Please don't. Please." At his puzzled glance, I explained, "That will only make things worse. Especially if there is an issue I'm unaware of. I'm sure it will come out. And if I need your help then, I'll let you know. Deal?"

He hesitated for a few seconds but then nodded in agreement. "Be sure to let me know if things get out of hand. We're a fairly relaxed company, as I'm sure you've noticed. To continue being that way, signs of trouble need to be stomped out quickly."

At that point, our discussion finally moved on to Frosty's, my ideas for the campaign, and his thoughts. The next hour pa.s.sed quickly. By the time we left, I had a firm handle on what I wanted to officially present at the next staff meeting, and in a strange way, I felt as if I'd made a friend.

Naturally, I ignored the voice in my head that told me I wanted much more than friendship from Ethan. And I pushed away the surreal feeling that we were supposed to be...well, something we weren't. I also ignored the signals my body repeatedly gave me in his presence. Sweaty palms, heart palpitations, and the like were nothing more than symptoms of an excess of hormones. They had to be. Because I barely knew the guy, and I had more than my share of complications in my life as it was.

So, yeah. Friendship was good.

It'd be enough-one way or another.

When I returned home, I walked into a mess. Literally. The majority of my art supplies were scattered from the dining room to the living room, sitting on every available surface except for the couch, which held my sister, my grandmother, and Chloe.

"What's going on?" Not that I really wanted to know, but it had to be asked.

Chloe jumped up, her cheeks flushed, her eyes bright. "I came over earlier to check in on you, and your sister and grandmother filled me in on everything. I am so jealous! You have magic. And a ghost for a grandmother. And you went to another time. How can you stand it? It's so unbelievably cool!"

"Chloe! Calm down before you keel over," I told her.

"But it's wicked exciting. Anyway, I told them about Beatrice and how I haven't found any dirt on her at all, but then we talked about the soul mate problem." Her eyes gleamed even brighter. "We figured out how you're gonna find him. Tonight."

My stomach tightened in knots. For the moment, I turned away from Chloe and focused on my sister. She tended to be the calm one. "What's she talking about?"

"Your magic should be in your artwork," Elizabeth said slowly. "So we thought you might be able to draw a picture of your soul mate. Once we have a picture, maybe we'll be able to find him."

Grandma Verda stood. "I'm hoping it's that cute Irish boss of yours, Alice."

"You mean that cute Irish boss of mine who you took to lunch? And told I was pregnant?"

"He told you?" Her mouth stretched into an uneven line. "He's definitely not a pomegranate if he broke a promise. I had such high hopes for that young man."

"Grandma! Stop with this fruit thing. None of us even knows what it means. Besides, he didn't tell me; I guessed. And why'd you do it? You know I love you, but you stepped out of bounds with that one."

She looked contrite for about half a second, and then she grinned. "I'm so glad I wasn't wrong about him. Maybe he's the one for you."

I sighed. I'd hoped for an apology, but that so wasn't happening. "The one what?"

"She means your soul mate. For some reason, she has it in her head that this boss of yours is the man you're destined to be with," Elizabeth said. "I have no idea why."

"Call it instinct." Grandma Verda winked at my sister. "I was right about Nate, wasn't I?"

My sister just about glowed at the mention of Nate's name. She nodded. "Point taken. So maybe it's not such a farfetched idea. What do you think of him, Alice?"

Even though searching out a man was the last thing I wanted, I had to admit that the thought of Ethan being that man wasn't so bad. Of course, I couldn't let this continue. "I barely know Ethan! And about this drawing my soul mate thing-how am I supposed to draw a picture of some man I've never met?"

For no reason that I could discern, Chloe ran into the kitchen. She returned almost immediately with a chocolate-frosted cupcake balanced in the palm of her hand. "Eat this first. Then draw."

"What are you talking about? I feel like everyone is speaking in a different language."

"It's easy! Since Elizabeth still has her magic, she baked the cupcakes with the wish that you'd be able to draw a picture of your soul mate. If you eat it, the magic should do its thing, and we'll know who he is without even leaving your condo. Isn't that terrific?" Chloe pushed the cupcake toward me.

"It is a good idea." Grandma nodded toward the cupcake. "Let's give it a go. What can it hurt?"

With another sigh, I accepted the treat. "Didn't you two just get done explaining how unpredictable magic is? That we should be careful and all that jazz? What if you said the wish wrong, Elizabeth? What if instead of drawing my soul mate, I draw the exact opposite of my soul mate?"

"I've learned my lesson with wishes. I'm very careful with how I word everything." She crossed her arms. "It should work. But if you don't want to do it, it's totally okay. This is your thing. We're just here to help."

Help. Yeah, right. Elizabeth would agree with whatever my decision was, I knew that. But Grandma Verda and Chloe? They'd nag at me in their own special ways until I gave in. And I'd eventually give in, so why bother putting up a pretense?

I sat at the dining room table. "Fine. All I need is a sketchpad and a pencil. I don't know why you brought every art supply I own out here."