Page 42 of A Witch in Notting Hill

“Actually, I haven’t,” I said, trying not to have a visceral reaction when all three sets of eyes snapped up at me. “I’m, uh, not great at dating, so whatever I’m involved in usually fizzles out before it can become a real breakup, anyway. Most of my ‘exes’ are from high school, and I don’t think those count.”

Lola nearly choked on her beer, which I supposed I should have expected. “What about the tabloids? All the rumors?”

“Just rumors,” I said. I knew what she was talking about. As much as I tried not to read online gossip, it was unavoidable. Vera usually filtered it for me and only told me what I needed to know, but that didn’t mean I still hadn’t heard my fair share of headlines:Willow James Spotted on Steamy Date in LAorWillow James Seen with Lover at LAXorWho’s on Willow James’s Arm at Brunch?

The “steamy date” was with Ivy, my “lover” at LAX was my driver, and the man on my arm at brunch was a childhood friend asking for industry advice. Hardly anything worth writing home about.

It was just easier this way. I kept telling myself it wouldn’t be forever, that I’d get a hold of my magic and it would stop interfering with my love life, but that day had yet to come. All I could do was hope it would be soon. Well, nottoosoon, because I had other things on my plate, but soon enough. I wasn’t getting any younger.

“What about now?” Lola asked. “I take it you aren’t seeing anyone?”

“This isn’t an interview, Lo,” Minho said.

“I’m making small talk.” Lola shrugged. “We’re friends now. This is what friends do.”

Friends.Not strangers. And friends helped each other.

I’d been so busy relishing the word and the idea that I wasn’t just a celebrity to them or a charity case that I’d forgotten I was supposed to answer.

And that my answer was supposed to be a lie.

“I’m, uh, it’s early days,” I said, grabbing my phone from the picnic blanket and sliding it into my back pocket. Suddenly nervous about the grand reveal of Kit’s face, I decided I’d leave them with only half the lie for now. Maybe it would do the job. “But I doubt it’ll become anything, so—”

“That’s so exciting.” Lola grabbed my arm again, suppressing a squeal. “Early days is the best part of a relationship. Honestly, I wouldn’t mind if it never got past early days.”

“That’s about when people realize you’re insane, so that checks out,” Oliver said, dragging his fingertips through the grass. He didn’t look up at Lola, or at me. Just traced a steady pattern in the earth and followed it with his gaze. I wondered if I was hallucinating the firm set of his jaw.

“Better than you, Mr. One Ex It Took Me Years to Get Over,” she said. “When was the last time you even went on a date?”

Hold on.Oliver Hadley was hung up on an ex? And he was obviously grumpy, but he really didn’t date? A man this handsome wasn’t out charming the entire population of Notting Hill?

“First of all, you’re the one who keeps bringing her up. Everyone else has moved on. And last I checked we were here to make a plan for Willow’s problem,” he said, “not pick apart my romantic history.”

“Picking apart the whole thing would only take us a minute, anyway,” Minho said.

“Doing yours would take half the time, so should we start there?”

“They don’t get out much,” Lola stage-whispered to me.

“We get out plenty,” Oliver snapped. “We just aren’t concerned with going on a date with all of bloody London.”

“Guilty.” Lola smiled.

Their banter was soothing. The less I had to talk, the less I was bound to reveal, and at this rate, they already knew more about me than nearly anyone else in my life. They didn’t need my sordid dating history to add to the file.

And if ending this conversation meant Oliver could release his shoulders from his ears, then I was even more in favor. Whatever had washed over him in the last few minutes wasn’ta good look, and I wasn’t exactly keen on trying to unpack it. Mostly because I knew where my train of thoughts would lead, and I needed to get off before that train left the station.

“Oliver’s right, though,” Min said. “Wearehere to discuss Willow’s problem, and I’m buzzing to get started.”

“Do you have the list?” Lola asked.

I’d copied it onto a sheet of hotel stationery so that I didn’t have to lug the book around, and I held my breath as I unfolded it and slid it across the blanket to Lola. It was real now, in a way it hadn’t been when we were in the library, which made it even more frightening. As if completing the tasks and reversing the spell weren’t daunting enough, now I had an audience.

An audience who was hopeful and generous and invested and who would be disappointed if I failed. An audience who was holding me accountable, who would watch me struggle, whose time would have been wasted if I couldn’t pull this off. And I thought Vera was putting me under pressure.

“What the hell is Clinopodium menthifolium?” Lola asked, eyes glued to the paper.

“Wood calamint,” I said. I’d had to look that one up last night. Hell, I’d had to look up half the list last night.