Page 87 of Clearly Charmed

The regulars left their stools and hovered nearby. Mo delivered our drinks and food and never left. She must have loved that we were giving her patrons free entertainment.

Ignoring the growing murmurs, Bryce pulled back his pool cue and in one smooth movement shot the cue ball straight at the tidy triangle. The balls spit out across the table in a colorful explosion. A few banked off the sides before the orange-striped thirteen-ball teetered once before dropping into the right side pocket. Chin tilted back, shoulders loose, he ambled around the table.

A few people in the crowd whispered advice. Judge Greene was the loudest. ‘Number twelve ball in the upper right corner.’

Traitor.

Bryce took the guidance. A single gentle tap made the ball roll into the pocket. The song on the jukebox changed to ‘Foolin’ by Def Leppard. The gold-and-green billiards light over the table flickered like the fates were laughing at me.

The crowd’s whispers grew. Bryce took his time lining up his pool cue with the nine-ball. ‘Top left corner.’ The trajectory was off, hitting the side of the felt table and bouncing away from the pocket.

Grandpa Beau’s one piece of coveted advice about pool was that you had to stop and survey the table. Envision each shot so the balls tumbled in one after the other. My heart ached at the thought of him. How he always had confidence that I’d choose the right thing. If he was here now, he’d lean in and whisper, ‘Trust your instincts and kick his butt.’

The glass light fixture flickered again. The heat of Bryce’s stare singed into my back, but I refused to look at him. If he wanted to walk close to the fire, he was going to get burned.

My first shot sent the solid purple four-ball into the right center pocket. Each and every ball I sank after that caused the crowd to cheer. It didn’t take more than three minutes to clear the table. The crowd let out another roar, Bree and Jessa shouting the loudest. Mo proclaimed the show over and ordered the crowd back to their seats. It was the first decent overture she’d made in a long time.

Bree walked in my direction and slid the cue from my hand. ‘Twenty bucks says he knew he was going to get his ass handed to him in public. It’s a poor attempt at an apology, but maybe you should talk to him. It might make you feel better.’

The light above the table flared once more. I ignored it and pointed at Bryce. ‘Outside. Now!’

Bree took the cue from him. ‘You better grovel. A lot.’ She walked to the high-top, encouraging Jessa to eat a handful of fried pickles.

Without looking back, I headed for the front door. A few lingering tourists darted into the last open shops before they closed for the night.

‘Didn’t know I was about to get hustled,’ Bryce said.

In the fading evening light, his hair was a dark russet. The slight stubble on his chin made him look rugged, and I hated that those coils in my stomach tightened.

‘I think you did. It was your idiotic way of apologizing again.’

His grin went wide. ‘Did it work?’

‘What the hell do you want from me, Bryce? With all the research you have, you can write your article. Tell the whole world about the town and the supposed “witches” who lurk among the ordinary people. Mo will love you for it. Hell, every business owner will probably want to make you an honorary citizen. Give you a damn key to the city.’

‘That’s not what I want, and you know it.’

‘What I do know is that if you write what you think is true about the McGuire women, I won’t be able to stay. Neither will Lia and Aster.’

‘You’re giving me too much power,’ he argued.

‘I’m not. Do you have any idea what it’s like to have people come into my clinic and look at me like I’m some kind of freak while I treat their pets? That there are people who make appointments just to come inside and search for some kind of magical clues. Like I might be hiding a pentagram, or a spell book in a secret spot.’

I tore my hands through my hair, hating the fact that they were trembling. ‘Lia goes out on a call, and her crew watches her as if she’s some kind of odd homing beacon who can magically point to where a fire has started. More than once, it’s made her question her place here too. And Aster.’ My voice wavered. ‘There are men who come into her shop and act creepy. Demand that she help them find their soulmate. One time…’ I broke off, trying not to picture that man cornering my baby sister. How awful it would be if people swarmed her shop, demanding she find them their match. ‘It’s hard enough to live a normal life here. Your article will only bring more attention to our already scrutinized existence. Don’t you see that?’

‘The last thing I want to do is hurt your sisters or you.’

‘But that is exactly what you’ll be doing.’

‘You can’t know that.’

‘I do,’ I shouted, drawing a few leery gazes from the tourists walking past the tavern.

‘Explain it to me, then.’ The plea in his voice was too much.

‘Twenty years ago, a reporter was here. He wrote a bunch of bullshit about my family. Falsified proof that we were witches. Things with the town went bad very quickly. Clo was nearly broken by it.’

‘And you? You were, what, thirteen then?’