One Less Problem Without You (21 page)

“I want to know,” Brit began carefully, “if I have a future with Roberto.”

Yes
.

“Yes.” But what happens to Alex? Prinny couldn't see that. No obvious answers came to her about that. She could see, and hear, and sense, only the things that Britni was so intently focused on three feet in front of her. Britni's energy superseded everything else. As it should in a reading. Prinny really shouldn't have done this. But now it was too late to do anything but press forward. “I see a ring.”

Three large fine diamonds, each encircled with smaller diamonds, set in platinum.

A pretty flush crept into Britni's cheeks. “I've seen it, too. He doesn't know I've seen it, but I suspected … Do you know if it's the Tiffany one?”

Prinny concentrated. “No, I can't see that.” And she couldn't. She just saw the diamonds and the band. The eternal circle. Easily broken when the two people weren't right for each other. Usually they weren't. “But you have a husband now.”

“Yes.” Brit sighed. “I don't know
what
to do about that. If my husband finds out there's another guy, he'll flip out.”

“I don't think he's the flipping-out sort.”

Something like surprise flickered briefly across Brit's expression. “Actually, you're kind of right. It would be a very quiet flip-out. The kind that would lose me a lot of alimony.”

She didn't love him.

Had she ever loved him?

Prinny asked but couldn't get an answer.

“Should I leave my husband?”

Yes,
everything inside Prinny said. But it wasn't a psychic answer. She didn't get psychic advice herself, only facts. It was up to her to wrangle it into advice when needed. The
yes
that was yearning to come out of her now was personal, self-serving, and completely unfair.

“I'm sorry,” Prinny said, gathering up the cards. “I can't see anything more.”

“What? That was barely, what, five minutes?”

“No charge.”

“I'm not worried about the charge, I wanted a whole reading! Why are you quitting?” Fear gripped her posture. “Did you see something terrible? Is there something you don't want to tell me?”

This was always the fear with clients; one always had to be very, very careful not to inadvertently lead them to believe they were doomed.

“No,”
Prinny said quickly, then faked a laugh. “It's not that at all, I just don't have the full”—she gestured blankly—“psychic energy tonight to do this reading.”

“You have a sign right out front that says otherwise.”

“Well, technically, it doesn't guarantee—”

“Come on.” Britni gave Prinny an impatient look. “You know damn well this is terrible customer service.”

“I'm sorry. I was getting crossed signals for some reason.” True, though she knew the reason. “I wasn't going to be able to give you what you were looking for.”

Neither will Roberto,
a sarcastic voice in her chirped.

“That's clear.” Britni braced her hands on the table, and for a moment Prinny was afraid she might flip the whole damn thing.

“You are welcome to come back and get a reading from Miss Ada. On the house.” She probably shouldn't have added that, but part of her was morbidly fascinated by seeing Britni in person.

“No, thanks.” Britni stood up and hefted her purse over her shoulder. “I don't think the vibe is right for me here.”

That was for sure.

“I'm sorry,” Prinny said helplessly.

But as she watched Britni huffing out of the store, frustration pouring from her, almost like a cartoon character with smoke shooting out of its ears, she could see the same woman, the same stride, walking away from her husband.

Alex McConnell.

Something bad was about to go down.

*   *   *

THE TEAS WERE
going to be a hit. A big hit. It was just the “something extra” they'd been needing.

Diana was an absolute magician with herbs. Prinny had tried her teas several times over the years, though they'd just been flavored ones, rather than medicinal. She had a blood orange and clove blend that she'd used for iced tea during one summer visit three years ago, and Prinny had been dreaming about it ever since. The aroma, the ethereal light green glow of it, the way Diana had served it in tall bubble glasses with sugared rims … it had all added so much to the ambiance of that summer afternoon on Leif and Diana's beautiful wraparound veranda.

For Prinny, socializing with Leif was rare, of course, but her father had wanted to go and visit, and he was too infirm to drive by then, so Prinny had volunteered. Now that she thought about it, that was the last time she'd been to Leif and Diana's house. It had been uncomfortable, even with her father there, though she'd been awfully grateful for Diana's calm demeanor at that time, as Leif, even then, had been strong-arming their father regarding his will.

“There should be a trust,” she had overheard Leif saying to him in the other room while she was in the kitchen with Diana, chatting about little butter cookies or something equally innocuous. Exactly what men like Leif would expect women like Diana and Prinny to discuss.

“I've already spoken to my lawyer about it all,” her father had said, noticeably weary.

“Are you sure that Prinny is”—there had been the slightest hesitation—“taken care of?”

“Of course.”

“Perhaps you should assign me as the executor.”

“Leif.” It was only the one syllable, but it held a strong warning tone against continuing the line of conversation.

And so it changed to the coming Redskins season and who was in what starting position.

When Prinny turned back to Diana, her sister-in-law was looking at her thoughtfully.

“I'm sorry you had to hear that,” Diana said, looking down and busying herself with arranging the cookies on the plate.

“Hear what?”

“Leif. I'm sure you don't like thinking about your father's will, or the need for it, much less your brother's ideas about it.”

Prinny had to laugh. “You're right.”

“For what it's worth, he's like that about everything. Everyone. He's always worried about getting what's due him.”

“If he got what was
due
him…,” Prinny began.

Diana caught her eye and nodded. “I know.”

Prinny could read into the moment that Diana knew much more than she did about what was
due
Leif. In fact, Prinny could see, hear, feel, almost even
taste
the fact that Diana was being lied to and cheated on and that it was pounding her self-esteem into a tiny block of steel.

“Any way to make this a Long Island Iced Tea?” she asked Diana with a smile.

“Better. A French Sixty-nine.” Diana poured the glasses about three-quarters full, then took gin off the shelf and poured a dollop in each, adding a squeeze of lemon juice and a sugar cube from the tea supplies. Then she went to the fridge, took a bottle of champagne from the door—already opened, Prinny noticed, and ignored the thought that Diana had been drinking alone—and topped the glasses with it. She took a couple of strawberries off the beautiful tray of cookies and dropped one in each drink before holding one out to Prinny and saying, “Cheers.”

Prinny clinked her glass against Diana's and took a sip. It was delicious. She'd never had anything like it; citrusy and bright and bubbly, yet with that distinct caffeine hit of green tea. “Where did you learn to make this? You are a genius.”

“I'm not,” Diana objected. “I'm just a bartender at heart. A bartender and a witch doctor.”

“Where did you learn to concoct the teas themselves?” Prinny asked. “It would never have occurred to me to do anything but buy it.”

“But it's better fresh, don't you think?”

“Oh, definitely.”

“The herbalist at the acupuncturist's office where I work was retiring, and I managed to convince them all it was a brilliant idea to teach me to carry on the job. Incredibly, they did.”

That was when Prinny had learned that Diana could make medicinal teas as well. Actually,
medicine,
Diana had pointed out. “Medicinal tea” implied something you could get from the grocery store and safely help yourself to without regard to quantity, but the teas she made were sometimes quite potent.

There had been many sleepless nights when a stressed-out Prinny had wondered what kind of tea Diana could make to knock her out, but they weren't that close. Though they got along when they saw each other and there was that hum of sympathy between them, it was always understood somehow that Leif wouldn't like it if they were close, and they wouldn't like it if Leif was pissed off about one more damn thing, so they had kept a cordial distance from each other.

So when Diana had arrived at the store and needed work, it was easy for Prinny to jump right into the idea. Especially when Diana had explained that her ingredients came from a prominent distributor who was very stringent about quality control. Prinny had been surprised when she talked about control over herb distribution until Diana had pointed out, obviously, pot.

“That's the least of it,” Diana had said. “A well-stocked tea cabinet could literally kill you.”

“Literally?” Prinny had a horrible vision of some hapless puppy getting into a kitchen pantry and consuming some horrible herb. “Or do you mean if you add rat poison and poisonous mushrooms and whatnot?”

“Literally. Seriously, Prinny, never piss your homeopathic practitioner off. It could be deadly.” She'd considered for a moment. “If only because of allergies. You should make sure you have a waiver for people buying medicinal. You don't want someone suing you because they got the sniffles.”

Prinny wasn't as business-stupid as people sometimes seemed to think she was.

Alex was the only one who took her seriously enough to bat her ideas around with her.

She probably asked too many questions and lingered too long over his concerns, but that was only because she wanted to spend more time with him. Not
probably;
it was
obvious.
It was just really damn unfortunate, because he was married and that was that. Unhappily, yes, but married nonetheless. And nothing could ever come of them together.

Yet even so she enjoyed her moments with him; the repartee, the back-and-forth, and sometimes just the reassuring sound of his voice. Actually,
often
it was the reassuring sound of his voice that she needed. Because
often
she was up against the wall in terms of proving herself.

Over and over again.

“So I signed the lease for the place next door,” she said.

“Good,” he said. “Good.”

“And I had an idea.” This was probably going to be a tough sell.

“Did you?” He looked interested.

“I did. Today. It hit me suddenly, but I am absolutely sure it is the way out of all of my problems. To make the business grow like nothing this town has seen in a long time.”

“You certainly have my attention.”

He was playing with her. She amused him. He liked this; it added levity to his life that wasn't usually there.

Her heart both broke at the idea of his heavy life and bloomed at the idea of lightening it.

“You might think it's crazy,” she said, smiling.

He smiled back and shrugged and gave his familiar mantra. “It's your money. Now tell me. What have you decided? As I recall, it was workshops.”

“Well, yes, workshops. That was the plan initially. And I still want to do them,” she hurried to add. “But I came up with a little extra something that's going to make the business take off.”

“And what's that?”

“I want to get a liquor license.”

“A
liquor
license.” He frowned. “And open, what, a bar?”

“Actually, it began with tea. I wanted to sort of turn the place into a teahouse.”

“I'm sorry.”
He was concerned.
“Did you say
tea
? Like you drink?” He mocked drinking a cup of tea, pinkie out and all. “That kind of tea?”

She nodded. “Yup.”

“Not edibles, at least.”

She laughed. “Nope. I have a person who makes medicinal teas, and I've been enjoying them for a few days. It's really amazing how well they can work. But then it occurred to me—there are metaphysical shops and there are bars, but there's no place doing
both
.”

He leaned back and steepled his fingers in front of his face for a moment, then sighed, returned his gaze to her, and said, “This is going to set Leif into orbit, you know.”

That was another thing she loved about Alex. He understood Leif. He understood the kind of selfish man he was, and the kind of muscles—legal, financial, and emotional—that Leif was willing to flex in order to crush her.

In fact, maybe most important, Alex understood that Leif wanted to crush her.

Prinny knew it, too, of course, but that was where her resources left her. She knew that he wanted her to go down, but she wasn't sure where he was burying the land mines.

“Do I care?” she asked Alex. “I mean, there's nothing he can do. I could invest every penny into a miniature horse farm in Monaco and he wouldn't have a leg to stand on, right?”

Alex grimaced. “He'd try. He'd make an argument about your sanity, and then, as your next of kin, he'd probably try and get power of attorney.”

“I should get married,” Prinny commented.

She didn't really mean it, but she was struck by the way Alex stiffened when she said it. His reaction to the very word sent a shock of negativity into the room.

“Has someone proposed?” he asked, just a little too casually. He tapped his fingertips on the desk three times. “I didn't know you were with anyone. I apologize.”