It's Just Love (6 page)

“Got it?” repeated Harry Montclief.

“Sure,” said Gage, too casual to be picking up the
undercurrents she did.

“Yes,” she murmured. Of course, she’d stay on topic. Every
shield she had shot up, protecting her from the discomfort to her left. She
attributed her missing it before to the nerves and excitement of being on
television and in front of a live audience.

It was quite different from her cozy cottage and her cat.
She closed her eyes and pictured the ocean, the waves rushing up on the beach.
She rarely surfed in the middle of the day, but she needed the cleansing the
foaming tides could provide. She’d take a swim the moment she got home.

“And we’re back.” Beaming again, all signs of negativity
banished. Harry’s aura even cleared up, not to a gorgeous shade like Gage’s,
but the red paled to almost a rose pink.
Weird.
But that explained how
she’d missed it before. “And our topic is, what is love?”

Harry smiled at Coral, and she quailed. His gleaming teeth
were sharp. What the hell had she gotten herself into?

“Miss Nixie, Coral, I understand you provide love spells to
seekers?”

She licked her dry lips and cleared her throat, forcing the
words out. “Yes, I try to help my clients achieve happy relationships in any
way I can.”

“With love spells?” he persisted.

“Sometimes, or…other things.”

“I see.” His eyes burned into her; what the hell did he
want? “And so what do
you
think love is?”

“Magic.” And she did believe it. What else could bring
people alive in the way true love did? She pictured the couples strolling the
boardwalk hand in hand, and the ridiculous bicycles built for two that lovers
rented and wobbled away on, laughter floating behind them. A young man she saw
carting ice cream to his girl, who sat on their beach blanket, watching him
return with heat in her eyes. Just being around them was intoxicating. Nothing
but magic could do that.

At a snort from her right, she spun to face Gage. “Yes, you
have a comment?”

“There’s no such thing as magic. And by feeding your
clients’ delusions, you do them a great disservice.” He crossed his arms over
his chest, looking so smug she wanted to smack him—or kiss the expression away—no,
smack him.

What was wrong with her? This man represented the part of
society that put her clients in the shape they were in, desperate and unsure
how to find happiness. She flushed, heat rising until her ears burned.
Focus.
“My work is very important to me. And I believe I help people. Not every time,
of course, but sometimes what they think they want isn’t what’s good for them.”

Gage faced her. “And you feel qualified to judge what is
‘good for them’? On what basis?”

Meeting his eyes, she fought to keep her breathing even
through her anger. She put every bit of herself into the spells she gave
people. She might not have a wall full of degrees, but she held high standards.
How to answer his question, without revealing more than she wanted to on national
television though?

She shrugged. “I stay in touch with my clients. They often
visit me months later to report on how things are going. What I do helps people
find happiness, or at least learn what happiness means to them.” She struggled
to find the words. “I believe in people. I believe in love.”

Gage shook his head. “And I believe in compatibility. When I
match a couple, I can tell them on a percentage basis what their odds are of
making it in a relationship, or when to walk away, immediately, before they
spend precious time satisfying their libido when they should be finding the
right partner.”

Coral’s anger made her fingertips tingle. Smug Man’s
confidence oozed out of every pore, his obnoxiousness more than she could bear.
“You don’t believe in love at all, do you?”

He opened his mouth then snapped it closed. A shadow of
something crossed his expression; pain or sadness? But before she could analyze
it, his eyes jerked to hers. “Of course I believe in it. But it’s something
that comes over time, between two compatible people who build a life together.
It takes hard work.”

She pitied him. He’d been hurt, but that was no excuse for
what he did to his clients. “Are you saying when people come to you, if they
don’t meet some kind of ‘factors,’ you tell them to break up? Walk away?” She
swallowed. “People who love each other?”

“Puppy love, a crush…lust. Those things would pass in time
anyway.” His face impassive, his eyes continued to give him away, their blue a
study in sadness. She wanted to hug him, make him feel better. But what he did
for work, his harsh judgment of people who sought encouragement on their path…
“But I understand you make them fall in love using eye of newt and puppy dog’s
tails.”

His harsh comment relieved her of any need to pity him. She
clutched the arms of the chair to keep from making the same kind of scene the
earlier matchmakers had.
How dare he!
“I would never harm a puppy dog or
even a newt! I merely help people who come to me. I give them hope.”

“How?” He cocked a dark eyebrow and sneered.

She gritted her teeth. “My spells…my magic, is a way to help
the people who belong together to notice one another. I don’t harm animals, and
I don’t try to force anyone to go against their will. That doesn’t work
anyway.”

“Gage, I understand your lovely girlfriend is here with you
today?” Harry interrupted their private conversation. As well he should, on his
show.

But Gage’s face paled, the small amount of color fading
away.
Something wrong there.
Perhaps they’d had a fight?

“I’m afraid she couldn’t make it, Harry. I’m sorry.”

The host frowned, but his voice revealed none of his
displeasure. “I understand she’s a busy attorney. Court keep her away from us?”

“Something like that, yes. I’m sure she would have loved to
be on the show though.”

“Of course. Well, since she isn’t here to defend herself…how
many of your factors do the two of your share? Seven? Eight?”

Gage swallowed, his Adam’s apple bulging. “Ten. All ten.”
His aura rippled and a gray streak rolled through. A big fight, then.

“So, a perfect ten,” Harry quipped, and the audience
laughed. “Sounds as if we have a real conundrum here on what love is. Or what
makes it happen.” He stood. “We have another break coming up and when we
return, I have an idea that may help us settle the issue.”

Every time Gage thought of Geena, his chest tightened. He’d
relived the scene so often, he’d driven around the block to avoid the Starbucks
on the way to visit his mother on Sunday.

And no matter how many times he tried to find a flaw, a hole
in his logic, Geena met every one of his factors. They even kissed alike, firm
pressure without too much tongue. Their lovemaking…three times a week, in the
early evening, followed by a quick shower and light dinner. It was very important
that a couple share their preferences in the bedroom, frequency, time of day,
and…other things. And if Geena had been a little less than enthusiastic lately,
well, now he understood why. But overall, it had been satisfactory between the
sheets. She’d never had to be responsible for her own orgasm.

Studio employees scampered around, adjusting lights, taking
the shine from Harry’s nose, blocking the view of those seated to watch the
show while the host took a fast few hits on a filtered cigarette. Interesting,
probably illegal, but who would argue?

As soon as Gage finished there, he would head back to his
office and lose himself in work. The publicity tour had begun, and his client
schedule would suffer. Whatever heartbreak he suffered, his factors were
excellent, scientific, and worked. Wasn’t this commercial break longer than the
last? A lighted sign flashed and a man waved at them and said, “And we’re
back!”

Harry lounged in his chair and beamed at the audience.
“Welcome back. Before we left you, we had a most interesting discussion between
our two remaining guests.” He paused for chuckles. “While many of you enjoyed a
message from our sponsors, our studio elves, the interns…say hello, ladies!”

Spotlights wove across the audience, stopping on two young
women, a blonde and a brunette, in neat blazers and slacks, holding
microphones. They each raised a hand and beamed.

“Sophie, why don’t you tell our audience at home what you’ve
been up to.”

“Love to, Mr. Montclief.” The blonde rested a hand on a
short, round woman seated on the aisle. “We were asked to find a pair of single
people in the audience who had never before been introduced and were as
different from one another as possible.” She grinned, and the woman rose from
her seat. “Elise Jones is from Australia, originally, and hopes to return there
one day. She’s got a high school diploma and would like to marry within the
next few years and have at least three children and a cat, and maybe live on a
farm. She prefers evening sex and likes to be in charge in the bedroom.”

Gage crossed and re-crossed his legs. What was Montclief up
to? The man fairly bounced in his seat with glee.

“And Amanda? Who do you have with you?”

The brunette intern drew a tall, skinny man into the aisle.
He smiled, but clung to her hand. “I have Charlie Singleton.” She pried her
fingers loose, linked her arm through his, and held the microphone to the man’s
chin, about as high as she could reach. “Say hello, Charlie.”

The man ducked and bumped his lips into the mic. “Uh, hello
everyone here…and at home.” He jerked away and stared over Amanda’s head. His
flaming cheeks matched his red hair.

Harry laughed. “And can you tell us a little about him,
please?”

She nodded, her shoulder-length waves bobbing about her. “Of
course. Charlie is from Nebraska, has a degree in nuclear chemistry, and works
at…” The man shook his head, grimacing, and she continued, “Well, for security
reasons he can’t tell us where he works. He is single, and likes it that way.
He doesn’t plan to have any children, and he’s allergic to cats.”

Gage frowned.

* * * *

They were going to disprove his ridiculous theories! Coral’s
heart surged. The cold, hard “factors” he espoused went against everything she
believed in. Love was magic, natural magic, based upon an attraction between
kindred souls.

Harry rose, nodding. “Let’s bring Charlie and Elise up here,
shall we, folks?” He clapped, starting the applause as the interns led the pair
down the aisles and waved them up steps on opposite sides of the stage.

Coral focused on the man. He wore a button-up shirt, plaid
and a little baggy, untucked over his khaki pants, one white Nike untied. His
goofy smile lit up his face. He seemed fascinated, past his nerves, pivoting
his head to the right and left, tilting it back to take in the overhead grid of
steel rods and multiple lights. Endearing. She hoped his experience in the next
few minutes wouldn’t harm the raw innocence his flickering yellow aura
indicated. A virgin! And he was at least in his mid-twenties. Who was she to
judge?

Elise had all the robust cheerfulness of the farm wife she
hoped to become. Her round, pink-cheeked face beamed as she marched up to Harry
and shook his hand. “Glad to be here, Mr. Montclief. What a treat to be able to
come right up to you.”

She wore what Coral supposed was fancy dress-up clothes for
her visit to the taping. A knee-length, belted shirt waist, and fat-heeled
sandals, no stockings. Dark blonde hair in a shoulder-length bob, with straight
bangs hanging over her wide, blue eyes. She was about the same age as Charlie,
maybe a year or two younger. Her aura was almost the same shade as her cheeks,
vivid and pulsing with enthusiasm. She’d tasted life and was anxious to sample
more.

Enjoying herself, Coral waited to see what Harry had in
mind. Perhaps he wanted the opinion of these very different people on the “factors.”

A stagehand came up behind Coral and Gage and, at his
direction, they moved down, leaving the chairs closest to Harry’s for the new
arrivals.

“Come, have a seat!” boomed the host. “Thank you for
agreeing to my plan.” He waggled his eyebrows, and a titter filled the room.
“I’m sure the rest of you—including our illustrious guest matchmakers—are dying
to know what I’ve come up with now.”

I should have watched the show at least once before
agreeing to be on it.

Of course, she’d been invited on Friday afternoon. What time
did the show air anyway? Was it on cable? She rarely watched even local
channels.

At the sound of her name, she snapped her attention back to
Harry.
Focus!
Her sixth sense or woman’s intuition flickered. Gage
wasn’t the only one about to get a comeuppance.

“So, Coral, Gage, are you ready to have your theories put to
the test?”

Huh?
“I don’t have a theory—” she hurried to say, but
Gage’s smooth response rode over her words.

“My theory has been tested many times, by my own clients,
Harry.” The therapist’s smile did not reach his eyes, although his words were
confident enough.

“Humor me, would you?” Resuming his seat, Harry laced his
fingers over his rounded belly. “I propose a test. Audience?”

A polite sprinkle of applause.

“Perhaps I should elaborate,” he said. “Gage, here, Dr.
Middleton of the advanced degrees and Westside high-rise office, author of a
few books telling us nobodies how to find the right mate, proposes that
attraction, a happy marriage, are the result of a number of compatibility
factors.”

“That’s not exactly—”

Harry waved away Gage’s protest. “And Coral, a practicing
witch, says that her spells make people fall in love.”

“No, I didn’t—”

The host’s glare stopped her from continuing.

“No more interruptions, please.” He punctuated his curt
words with a blinding smile at the audience. “I know everyone is dying to hear
about our experiment.”