No Shoes, No Shirt, No Spells (Mystic Cafe Series) (5 page)

Mary Jane hovered over me, her breath loud in my ear.

“
You’re making me nervous.” I swatted at her with the spatula.

“
Sorry,” she said, backing up a few steps.

I fidgeted from one foot to the other. “Okay, I can do this.”

“
Will you quit saying that and do it already?”

After flipping the front cover open, I scanned the index. Thank goodness everything was in alphabetical order, or I’d have been searching all day. The directory had everything from charmed cheeses and enchanted eggs to spiritual soups, along with spells for everything in the love department from finding a mate, mending heartbreak, to general flirting.

When I discovered the spell for patching up a broken heart, I knew I had the right one, plus it allowed for personalization. Turning my attention back to the grill, I tossed the burgers over, then turned to the page listed. The spell required mixing the potion myself, since this was a specific spell and not a general love spell. I retrieved my special fried potatoes from the fryer and placed some on one side of the plate, then added a dash of rosemary and sprinkled the
love potion on top.
The words came to me as if I’d always known just what to say. It was as natural as smiling, laughing, or crying.

As I continued adding the spices, I said the words aloud:

“
Let love find him and may his
lost love
want him in return.” I sprinkled more spices over the burger.

Just like something from the movies, it sizzled on the grill, steam flying upward in a mini-tornado-like cylinder, whirling and churning like mad. It bubbled and sparked, growing faster as I murmured the words. The sound of magic in progress rippled through the kitchen, bouncing off the walls, floor, and the door. Above the island, pots and pans hanging from the ceiling rack swayed back and forth. As quickly as it started, the bubbling waned, settling to a simmer, then coming to a stop.

“
She’ll be jealous, and it serves her right,” I added to the spell. “So mote it be.”

“
Wow, you mean business. That was some spell work. And you said you didn’t know what you’re doing.” She squeezed me. “Your grandmother would be proud.”

“
Was it too much?” I frowned. “I just figured a little jealousy wouldn’t hurt her after the way she’s treated him.”

“
I bet he gets a date in no time, and he’ll have to fight the women off with a stick.”

“
If you say so.” I shrugged.

She grabbed the plates and headed for the dining area. As I watched through the tiny window in the door, the knot in my stomach churned as if I’d eaten one of my burnt muffins. Mary Jane stopped next to my gorgeous customer’s table and began chatting with another patron. She always had been a talker. She may be a good waitress, but when she got to talking...

Mary Jane yakked away and the more I watched the hot food, the more I was sure it had turned cold. What good would cold food do? Oscar wouldn’t eat it or he’d possibly want to leave after taking one bite before getting any of the magic into his system.

But with one little movement, cold food was the least of my worries.

Chapter Seven

To my horror, Mary Jane set the plate with the magic-laced food down on
his
table. Not Oscar’s table, but the magnificent-looking man we’d been ogling from the kitchen since Mary Jane had not so subtly pointed him out.

He looked up and thanked her. She waved off his comment and continued talking with the other customer, not even realizing she’d set the plate in front of the wrong person. A person who now thought he was getting his meal, the food he’d ordered, not someone else’s spell-spiked cheeseburger.

What could I do? I frantically waved toward Mary Jane, but she didn’t as much as bat an eyelash in my direction. I’d kill her for this. With sweat forming on my brow and my heart thumping, I had to do something before it was too late. The handsome customer grabbed the burger and moved it toward his mouth. It was now or never. I couldn’t let him take someone else’s spell. What consequences would the wrong magic bring? I didn’t want to find out.

I peeked out from around the swinging door. The hamburger moved to his lips, then he took a bite from the sandwich. One big chunk was already missing and ketchup oozed from the side.

The pathway leading to his booth seemed as if it stretched on forever. In spite of the dread in the pit of my stomach, I finally made my feet move forward. It was as if I was on a conveyor belt, walking and walking, but making no progress. Each step seemed to carry me further away.

Finally, I lunged from behind the counter, making a dash for his booth. It was as if everything played frame by frame. Glasses no longer clanked and conversations stopped as all eyes no doubt focused on me—the lunatic owner flying across the café floor.

As my eyes met his confused and alarmed stare, I reached for his burger. My hand made contact with the bun and I swatted, making the bun and meat fly from his hands, before they landed in the middle of the hardwood floor.

My arms flung out as I stumbled and grabbed the air, trying to save myself. The moment seemed as if it moved in slow motion, frozen in time. Gasps echoed around me—probably Mary Jane and the nosy women at table six. The surroundings appeared fuzzy, as if my eyes couldn’t focus, yet I made out every detail around me. My arms and legs felt as if they were weighted down with cement.

I put out my hands to stop myself from falling. He reached down to grab me, but missed. My lips parted to gasp in air and a high-pitched yelp escaped my mouth. My face met with the floor as I fell at the edge of the booth, my mouth practically coming to rest on his work boot.
The smell of Lysol from the freshly mopped floor made my stomach turn, as if I weren’t already sick enough.
My cheeks burned as if I’d been caught making out in the backseat of my parents’ car.

I grunted and turned my head to the side only to see his green eyes peering down at me. Okay, I’d wanted a closer inspection of him, but I hadn’t wanted to make an ass of myself in the process. The heat from his gaze ran through my body.

Silence filled the space except for a stifled snicker from the other side of the room. I shot an evil glare in the direction of the young dark-haired girl. She darted behind her menu. I stared around the room at the frowning expectant faces. The old ladies gave me a disapproving shake of their heads.

He didn’t ask what the heck I was doing, or call for the men with the white jackets...at least not yet. Instead, he leaned over me with his mouth agape and stared for a beat. Finally, he grabbed my arm as I shuffled up from the floor, brushing off my pants to allow time for my face to return to a shade lighter than fire-engine red.

My mind raced a million miles a minute, trying to conjure up a logical explanation as to why I had knocked the food from his hand like a deranged freak. I had none. Not one logical thought. I might as well just tell him I was crazy, it sounded much better than the truth.

“
Are you all right?” His brows drew together in a puzzled frown as he continued to hold my arm. With his gorgeous green eyes fixed on me, he waited for an answer.

“
I--I—I’m sorry about that. I gave you the wrong order,” I muttered, like a complete fool.

I looked to his friend who sat staring at me with the same confused and astonished look on his face.

His eyebrows rose. “No, I ordered a cheeseburger and I’m pretty sure that’s what I was eating.” He placed emphasis on the word
was
. He gently released his hand from my arm.

“
Oh, well, um, I’m sorry about that. My bad.” I held my hands up in surrender.

Yes, yes, it certainly was my bad. If only I could have melted into the hardwood floors, then I’d escape the mortification.
I limped over and reached down, grabbed the burger and bun, then scooped up the pickles one by one.

“
Are you okay? Did you hurt your leg?” he asked with a concerned look on his face.

“
I’ll be fine. I’ll walk it off.” I gently placed the bun and meat back on his plate. “Let me get you another one. It’ll just take a minute.” I wiped the mustard and ketchup from my fingers onto my apron, then took the plate from his table. What a way to make a great first impression. I had one chance, and I blew it.

He waved his hand as he studied me, no doubt taking in my messy appearance. “No, that’s not necessary, I don’t have the time. I’ll take my check.”

I’d never get his business again. He knew a crazy person when he saw one. His friend would never come back, either. Heck, within thirty minutes probably everyone in town would hear about me knocking the food from his hand. I’d be out of business before the end of the day.

He stood and reached in his pocket for his wallet.

“
Are you sure?” I asked. “It’s no trouble.”

He gave a half grin. Obviously, he felt pity for me. “It’s fine, really. How much do I owe you?” He opened his wallet.

“
Nothing, of course. I can’t charge you for a half-eaten burger that I knocked out of your hand and proceeded to mop the floor with.” Heat rose in my cheeks.

I wanted to tell him the truth and have him understand, but that was impossible. The truth was worse than the embarrassing lie I’d just come up with.

“
Are you sure?” he asked.

“
I’m positive. Again, I’m really sorry. I hope you’ll come back.”

He eyed me up and down with a look I interpreted as full of mercy. “I’ll be back.”

The odds of him returning were about as good as the odds of me taking that scum-sucking ex of mine back.

As the thought entered my head, he flashed his gleaming white teeth at me. And this time I didn’t think it was a you’re-so-pitiful-I-have-to-be-polite smile, either. My stomach tingled as I watched the dimples on his face slide up into a full-on smile. His friend stood beside him, drawing my attention away from his gorgeous face, no easy task.

“
How much do I owe you?”

I looked to him. “Nothing, of course. I’m really sorry.”

I’d lose my business one way or another if I had to keep dishing out complimentary meals. He smiled again and I watched as they walked out of the café. I hoped he wasn’t walking out of my life for good. I may have resolved to be done with men until the end of time, but I could use a regular customer like him.

“
What in heaven’s name is wrong with you?” Mary Jane rushed over.

“
What’s wrong with me?” I pointed toward my chest, then turned it around on her. “You’re the one not paying attention.”

Her face turned red. She opened her mouth, closed it again, her jaw tightening as she swallowed down whatever she was going to say.

Guilt clasped its strangling grip around me for calling her out on the catastrophe. Perhaps catastrophe was a strong word, but it was darn close to accurate. Mary Jane always had been a good waitress, though. Well, by the way Grandma Imelda raved, I figured she had to be fantastic. Plus, she’d never do anything to hurt me on purpose. Everyone makes mistakes. Heaven knows I had made more than my share.

I decided to break the silence. “I thought I could stop him.”

Her lower lip softened.
“Once he’s had one bite, it’s too late. You’re going to have to practice that magic, or it’s going to be chaos in this town.” Mary Jane stacked dirty dishes in the tub behind the counter. She blew her bangs out of her eyes, and faced me again.

“
Thanks for the advice.” I folded my arms in front of my chest. “I didn’t want this magic in the first place.”

“
Too late for that now. Besides, the way I hear it, you don’t have any choice in the matter. It’s written in the stars.” She gestured toward the sky with an overly dramatic wave of her arms.

“
Written in the stars, huh?” We stopped talking long enough for me to take a customer’s cash and hand him change. When he was out of audible range, I continued, “Where do you get your magical information from?”

“
Your grandmother, of course.” She didn’t glance up as she wiped water off the counter.

“
Of course.” I rolled my eyes. “Right from the source.”

More customers approached. After ringing up the inquisitive women and waiting for their departure, I continued the conversation with Mary Jane. “Why don’t you finish telling me how the heck you found out about the magic in the first place?”