Page 64 of A Witch in Notting Hill

“Grand. Sounds like the Heath to me, doesn’t it, lads?”

Lola and Minho nodded, like the Heath was obvious. I didn’t know what that meant, and judging by how today had gone, I wasn’t sure I was ready to find out.

When I finally got back to my flat, I found Vera listening to an audiobook on the porch. She was stretched on a chaise even though it was starting to get cold, and her eyes were closed but her ears were up, telling me she was awake.

I flopped on the chaise next to her, closing my own eyes and matching my breathing to hers. The book was some kind of mystery, and the small-town detective was about to approach the victim’s father in a bar.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Vera asked.

“Not now,” I said. “We’re about to get to the good part.”

“Hey, Google, pause this chapter,” she said, and I groaned. “Let’s hear it.”

“I let loose a swarm of birds today.”

“You what?”

“We were in the museum so I could do the spell with the pendulum, which seemed to just be tracking Oliver, so I don’t even know if that worked, then he was supposed to be standing guard with Minho and they got into some confrontation with these guys who recognized me, then Oliver said he has something to give a shit about now, and that something is me, I guess, then I tried to thank him and he confessed this was all way beyond his job description, and I got overwhelmed by the subtext and tried to put some distance between us, and then the birds happened.” I sighed.

“That is... a lot to unpack.” She sat up, and I did the same. “Did the spell work?”

“I think so. Or I hope so, anyway.”

“Did the guys talk to you?”

“No, Oliver and Min held down the fort. They recognized me, but I think Oliver fed them the same lie we’ve been feeding everyone else, so it was probably fine. Either way, they didn’t get pictures or anything, so I doubt anyone would believe them even if they said something.”

“So I can cross PR nightmare off the list of things we have to handle today?”

I nodded.

“Excellent. Next order of business.”

“Don’t say Oliver.”

“Oliver.”

“Please, can we skip right to the birds? I’d love to talk about the birds.”

“In this new form, I’d hate to talk about the birds,” she said, glancing down at her body. Couldn’t blame her for that. “Doesn’t he think you’re with Kit?”

“He thinks . . . well . . . he thinks it’s early days. Not important, really.”

“Willow,” she scolded. “You were supposed to make him think you guys were together.”

“I know, I know. I just... I like the way he looks at me,” I confessed. “And we were alone in that inn and I got carried away and I just didn’t want him to stop flirting with me.” Leave it to Vera to get me to say things out loud I’d yet to say to myself. “Is that so bad?”

“It is when you release a swarm of birds!” she cried. “What’s next? Locusts? The slaying of the firstborn?”

“Maybeyouwant a career in the dramatic arts,” I said. “Someone get this woman an Oscar.”

“I’m serious, Willow. We don’t know what’s next, and the more of a scene you create, the more you run the risk of being noticed. Everyone at home thinks we’re on some post-awards-season retreat, remember? Spas, unplugging, the whole nine. Not running around Notting Hill with some handsome local and endangering the entire population.”

“Okay, that’s an exaggeration,” I said. “Four people is not exactly the entire population. And we aren’trunning around, either. Lest you’ve forgotten, we’re trying to find everything I need to get us out of this mess.”

“And where exactly does developing feelings for each other slot into those plans, hmm? Did the spell sayFall in love with the handsome local?”

“Who’s in love?” I asked. “Is that what you think this is? I blush one time talking about a man and now I’m in love?”