Wicked By Any Other Name Part 2

"Especially the one smelling chocolate?" He watched the redhead pick up a chemise in every color along with an armload of books.

"She's PMSing. Anyone PMSing tends to smell their favorite form of chocolate." Stasi planted her hands on the counter and stared at Trev. "I normally don't ask people to leave my shop, but I have customers here and a business to run."

He nodded. "We need to talk. Or at least retain counsel and have him or her contact me."

"I'll see you in court, Wizard Barnes." She made sure to keep her voice low so the women wouldn't overhear her.

"I have an idea it will be sooner than that, Ms. Romanov." He smiled and left the shop; the d.a.m.ning red hearts still arced over his head.

Stasi was relieved that mortals couldn't see the hearts, and more than grateful she had customers to deal with. Otherwise, she would have been tempted to indulge in a hissy fit that would make Thea's tantrums look like a Zen moment. By the time the three women left, her breathing had returned to normal. Sort of.

Wizard-she refused to even think of him as "Trev"-Barnes was gorgeous with a capital G. Dark blond hair with a hint of bronze highlighting the thick strands, kept short because he was the type, skin tanned from the sun, eyes so blue they rivaled a cobalt stone, and his designer suit was cut to make his lean body look fabulous. The man might work in an office, but it had to be more than good genes that gave him a body like that. She guessed he enjoyed a morning swim every day, and not just a leisurely dog paddle, either. As she stared at the spot where he had been standing, her vision momentarily blurred until objects appeared to dance in front of her eyes. Valentine red heart-shaped objects.

She suddenly felt as if a bomb had been set off inside her.

"Uh." She blindly fumbled for the stool she kept behind the counter. "Uh." Her forehead connected with the counter in a nasty thump.

"Was that who I think it was? Oh, no." Blair slipped inside the shop, closed the door behind her, and waved her hand to activate the lock. "Oh honey, that's going to leave a mark." She hurried over to the counter.

"Uh," was all Stasi could utter.

"Yep, hot boy is the wizard," Horace offered up. "I've got to say, if I wasn't into women I'd do him in a second."

"Uh!" Stasi's mumble now had a gurgling sound.

"What was he doing here? What did he want? Is Carrie dropping the case or shall I whip up an eternal yeast infection for her? I will do it, you know," Blair promised, leaning over Stasi, rubbing her back in soothing circles. She leaned closer in hopes she'd hear the slight sounds coming from Stasi's mouth. "What did you say?"

"Ha-" she took a deep breath. "Hearts. He wore hearts."

Blair straightened up as the meaning clicked in. "No way!"

She nodded. "Big dancing red hearts way." A loud hiccup echoed in the shop with an ethereal bubble floating in the air. Horace exhaled a deep breath, sending the bubble dancing higher.

Blair shook her head. "It has to be a sick joke on Cupid's part. Even he wouldn't be this nasty."

"Yes, he would. Hic!"

"Hold your breath."

"They have to stop on their own." Stasi accepted the gla.s.s of water Blair brought her.

"Why did he come?"

"To discuss an amicable settlement."

"As in you give in to whatever she demands?"

She nodded. "I told him I'd see him in court."

"The way Wizards' Court runs, the case might not be heard for a thousand years."

"Human plaintiff, remember? Any case involving a mortal is fast-tracked. It said so in the paperwork." She buried her face in her hands. "All I wanted was a beautiful Samhain this year." Her words were m.u.f.fled by her hands.

"And it will be. Nothing is going to ruin it." Blair hoisted herself up on the counter and swung her legs back and forth. Her hair had been pulled up into a perky ponytail. Dressed in a navy and green plaid skirt that skimmed her knees, a crisp white blouse with a Peter Pan collar, and a cream-colored long-sleeved sweater, along with navy knee socks and loafers, she looked like the consummate schoolgirl. Since she owned and ran a shop featuring vintage and retro merchandise, she liked to dress the part.

Stasi happened to look up and see a familiar figure cross in front of the display window before reaching for the shop door. A wave of Blair's fingers released the lock in the nick of time. She hopped off the counter to stand beside Stasi.

"Good morning, Stasi," the visitor chirped, stepping inside the shop.

"Poppy," the two witches greeted the woman whose personality was perfectly paired with her voice. Both were chirpy with a hint of squeak, and she never seemed to remain still for more than five seconds. Blair liked to compare Poppy to an evil Tweety bird. Her thin body was attired in a bright blue tunic-length sweater and matching leggings paired with impossibly high heels. Even her candy pink lip gloss seemed to add to her birdlike appearance.

Stasi found the woman irritating, but managed to keep her feelings masked.

"Such a chilly morning, isn't it?" Poppy offered a sunny smile as she walked toward them carrying a large plate. "I tried out a new m.u.f.fin recipe this morning and thought I would bring by some samples. Perhaps if you offer them to your customers they'll like them well enough to come down our way." She set the plate on the counter and drew off the cellophane covering with a dramatic flourish. "They have cinnamon and other spices in them, plus a few secrets of my own. I thought if everyone liked them I'd bring them out for Halloween. Reed and I keep hearing how the town goes all out in October, so I thought I'd try some Halloween theme recipes."

"Well." Blair winced when Stasi's shoe made contact with her ankle as a less-than-subtle reminder to be polite.

"Thank you, Poppy, it's very nice of you to bring us some treats," Stasi said with a smile that only a close friend would know was false.

The woman waved off Stasi's thanks. "It's a good excuse to be out and about and also announce some wonderful news. Our sister, Amaretto, will be visiting us for the festivities. Rhetta is Reed's twin, and hasn't been up here yet, so we're looking forward to her visit."

"That will be nice for you," Blair said in a monotone.

"Oh yes, it's wonderful," she chirped.

The blonde woman glanced around the shop. For a moment, a hint of distaste crossed her features before it was replaced by her usual bright smile. Stasi stared at her, wondering if she'd imagined the expression. She had a sudden hankering to get a peek at Poppy's lingerie drawer. She believed a woman's lingerie revealed her true personality and so far, she hadn't been able to get a handle on what Poppy was really like. But to be honest, she didn't want to be Poppy's friend, no matter what. There was something about the woman she just plain didn't like.

"It's amazing you can manage to sell such expensive lingerie up here," she commented.

"As you noticed last summer when you opened Fresh Baked Goods, we get a lot of tourists from the resorts," Stasi replied. "The women love to stop by for lingerie and reading material."

Poppy fingered an erotic novel displayed next to a bright red satin bustier. "Yes, I imagine so." She looked up, smiling again. "Well, I must get back to the bakery. I have several batches of m.u.f.fins in the oven. I hope you enjoy them. Ta ta." She waggled her fingers and almost skipped out the door.

"Ta ta." Blair's farewell held a hint of mockery in it, but Poppy was already gone.

"Don't do that." Stasi picked up the plate and dumped the contents in the waste bin under the counter.

"Hey! Did you ever stop to think I might be hungry?" Horace slid across the counter and looked down. "I bet they taste as good as they smell."

"It's the principle of the thing," Stasi said.

"I figured it was because Reed has a crush on you," Horace pointed out.

Stasi shuddered at the thought of the co-owner of the bakery, Reed Palmer. The man was charming, good looking, and he was one of the reasons why Fresh Baked Goods was so popular. It wasn't just Poppy's m.u.f.fins, cakes, and breads along with espresso and cappuccinos that kept it filled with customers. The men went in for the baked goods; the women went in for a chance to flirt with Reed, who Stasi admitted was good looking even if he didn't ring her chimes. Stasi and Blair were among the few of the small town's holdouts.

But that didn't stop Poppy or Reed from dropping off cookies and m.u.f.fins every so often. And each time the offerings were dropped in the trash the moment Reed or Poppy left.

"What if we went to Carrie?" Blair said. She hesitated. "You could offer to work up a spell to get what's-his-name back if she'll drop the suit."

Stasi straightened up to her full five-foot-four-inch height. Resolve shone in her golden brown eyes, turning them to deep topaz, and faint sparks, like glitter, seemed to coat her skin.

"Anastasia," Blair's tone held a warning.

"Carrie is a vicious, hateful woman who treats men as if they're a piece of gum stuck to the bottom of her shoe. She doesn't have a speck of romance in her selfish, mercenary soul. There is no way in Hades that I will bargain with that woman!" Stasi spun on her heel and headed for the rear of the shop.

"Don't even think about it. You've been served by the Wizards' Court. If you retaliate against Carrie, they can also take you before the Witches' Council," Blair warned, fast on her heels. She took in her best friend's dark expression. "Anastasia?"

Stasi headed for a rack filled with plastic covered hangers. She carefully stripped the plastic coverings off the first few hangers and inspected the colorful chemises. One chocolate brown silk chemise with mocha-colored lace had Blair reaching out with a moan of pleasure on her lips.

"I really want this." Blair held the chemise up against her body.

"It's yours." Stasi smiled.

Blair paused. "Wait a minute, you're distracting me on purpose. Stasi, what did you do?"

"Nothing." Stasi pulled the plastic wrapping away from another chemise, this one a s.h.i.+mmering sapphire blue with silver lace.

The delectable lingerie briefly diverted Blair's attention as she mentally tagged it mine, but she quickly brought herself back to the subject at hand. Foreboding settled in her stomach like a heavy lump as she saw something flicker across her friend's face.

"Oh my ... you did something, didn't you? Stasi!"

"Hey! You two trying on bras and panties?" Horace appeared in the stockroom entry.

They turned as one. "Get out, Horace!"

He reared back a little, his leathery wings rustling stiffly in the air. "Geez, I'm heading out if both of you are on the rag at the same time."

Stasi stepped in his direction, her hand up, palm out. "Out of here now!" A burst of power sent the gargoyle tumbling backward through the filmy curtains that separated the shop from the stockroom.

"Fine! All you had to do was ask me to leave!" he shouted back. "Ow!"

Stasi blew on her finger as if it was a smoking gun barrel then turned back to Blair.

"I did nothing she didn't deserve." She swept her hand in front of her. "If I had done what I truly wanted to, the Witches' Council would have called me in."

"Only if they thought you did something ..." The truth hit her like a huge rusty cauldron. "You didn't. You did! Stasi! You made sure Carrie's husband wouldn't return to her!"

Stasi refused to look at her friend as she continued to strip plastic coverings off the newly arrived clothing. "Carrie thinks every man she meets is perfect for her and will love her until the end of time. Except once she snares her prey, she treats him like something she'd sc.r.a.pe off her shoe. Perhaps she needs to learn that not every man will bow to her vicious behavior."

Blair advanced on her with the subtlety of a Sherman tank. "I don't even want to think how many years this could add to your banishment if they find out. For someone who's basically flown under the radar for decades, this has got to be the absolute craziest thing you've ever done." She stepped forward, still trying to wrap her mind around the idea of her gentle friend doing something that ... well ... something that she'd do!

Stasi was the best of the best among their cla.s.s at the Witches' Academy. She had embraced academic life, loved her cla.s.ses and all their teachers, including old Grizelda, who smelled like musty clothing and actually cackled. Sweet-natured Stasi had stood strong with her cla.s.smates when she could easily have remained at the academy and realized her full potential, possibly even attaining status on the Witches' Council. It had meant so much to the others and had even inspired guilt in some, because they all knew Stasi was destined to be great among their community. Instead, Stasi had refused to betray her sister witches all those years ago and was banished to the outside world with the rest of them. So far, not one of the witches had behaved well enough to end their banishment. During the past centuries they had more or less adapted to the mortal world and many enjoyed the lives they now had.

"That sachet didn't inspire romance, did it? You slipped a rejection spell in it, didn't you?" Blair advanced on Stasi, who now had no place to retreat. "You made sure Carrie's husband wouldn't return to her."

"She didn't want him anyway." Stasi hated that her voice sounded suspiciously like a whine. "She just didn't want anyone else to have him. She was the one who drove him away. I just made it permanent." She set her chin in a determined manner.

"You can't do that! You believe in true love. If there wasn't Cupid, there would be you."

Stasi heard the pain in her friend's voice, but she refused to succ.u.mb to it. Blair knew what Carrie was like.

"She deserved what she got, and Kevin is safe from her manipulations," she said finally.

"And if the Wizards' Court figures this out, you will be in so much trouble it will never end. As it is, they make Witches' Court look like a playground!"

"Then it's my trouble, and no one else's." Stasi turned her back on Blair.

"It's on your head then." Blair threw up her hands and stalked out of the boutique.

"Nice thong, Blair!" Horace shouted after her from his favorite vantage point on the floor. "Love the naughty schoolgirl look you've got going there."

Trev revved the engine and listened to the discreet growl emitted by his midnight blue Jaguar XK convertible. He had always admired the sound of a quality machine, and his Jag offered that up big-time. The winding mountain road was a breeze for the low-slung vehicle as he drove upward to a nearby resort where he'd spend the night before returning to Los Angeles. He only wished the weather was warmer so he could have the top down.

For now his mind was centered on Anastasia "Stasi" Romanov. He rarely dealt with witches. All his business a.s.sociates were wizards, sorcerers, and sorceresses. To be frank, he considered witches to be rather decla.s.se, although he had the good sense never to say that aloud. He had heard that Eurydice, head of the Witches' Council, was a major force to be reckoned with if she felt any of the witches under her protection were threatened.

He'd walked into the shop in the tiny mountain town expecting to meet a timid witch who would be properly intimidated by his wizard status and immediately agree to anything Carrie wanted, so that the matter wouldn't go to court and he could usher his newest client out with a huge sigh of relief.

Instead, he found a lovely woman with snapping golden brown eyes-and a pervert of a gargoyle, who he could see was protective of the young witch. For a moment he'd even been tempted to ask her to meet him for dinner at the resort's dining room, but after the way she looked at him as if he was the vilest creature on earth, he wouldn't have been surprised if she would have added a little something disagreeable to his meal.

And what was with the red hearts dancing over her head like some insane Valentine TV commercial? He made a mental note to ask Mae to research it. He figured it had something to do with the romantic nature of the boutique, but the sight was more than a little disconcerting.

He pressed a b.u.t.ton on his steering wheel. "Office."

"Mr. Barnes' office." Mae answered on the first ring.

"Ms. Romanov has no counsel," Trev said.

"How nice that you arrived safely, Trevor," Mae smoothly overrode his comment. "We're doing fine here, thank you for asking. Nothing important has happened since you left, although your father did stop by hoping you could have lunch with him."

He mentally uttered a few choice words. After all these years he should know better. Mae stood on ceremony and any time he forgot that, she was quick to remind him. But he had a small a.r.s.enal up his sleeve.

"I hope you enjoyed lunch with Father." He grinned. Mae hadn't said a word, but he easily sensed she hadn't expected that. There was no doubt in his mind that Mae and his father had been having an extremely discreet affair for the past few decades. The idea of his prim and proper a.s.sistant and pompous sire getting hot and heavy between the sheets was a vision he preferred to be burned out of his brain.

He noticed the sign for the resort where he had a reservation for the night and made a quick turn. "Would you do me a favor and have someone do a little research on something that might have to do with witches?"

"Does this have to do with the Anderson/Romanov case?"

"Not directly, but since Anderson is pretty much suing for alienation of affection, it might be related. See if there's a reason why a witch would have glittery red hearts dancing over her head. And I'd like Anastasia Romanov's history."

The silence on the other side of the line was charged. "Did you say glittery red hearts over her head?" Mae said finally in a voice that didn't sound like her normal self-contained self.

"Yes, why?"

"No reason. You'll be in tomorrow?"

"Not until the afternoon, since I'm staying up here tonight."

"Fine." Mae disconnected before Trev could say anything else.