Page 99 of A Witch in Notting Hill

“I’m not trying to win her back.” Right?

“Well, you should be,” Lola said, dragging a piece of pita through the baba ghanoush. I held my breath, watching herbring it to her mouth and praying she didn’t drop any on my desk. “Because if you’ve been this much of an arse about the magic the whole time and shestillshagged you, you’ve got a good thing going.”

“Lola—”

“I know, I know. I’m taking the piss. But I do mean you should try to win her back. She was obviously into you, Ol, and I haven’t seen you that into anyone since—”

“I know.”

“I’m only giving you a hard time because I want you to be happy. And I don’t think your differences in beliefs should be a dealbreaker. Though I do think you should keep more of an open mind. Magic doesn’t have to just look like waving a wand and saying a magic word and turning a princess into a frog, you know.”

I didn’t want her to be right. Everything would have been so much easier if she wasn’t right.

And she usually wasn’t. Her advice was usually chaotic at best, destructive at worst, and she’d be the first to admit it. But this wasn’t one of those times.

I knew “magic” wasn’t waving a wand and saying a magic word. I was a cynic, not an idiot. And if I’d learned anything from Willow and from my years in the shop, it was that there were a million types of “magic” and a million types of “witches.”

I knew there was always logical reasoning, and I chose to see that.

And I’d been comfortable with that. Until now.

Not once in thirty-two years had I asked myself what would happen if I made another choice. Why I was so attached to logic in the first place and what would happen if I abandoned it.

“You don’t think it’s too late?” I asked Lola. It probably was, in which case I wouldn’t actually need to entertain the idea after all.

“You’re bloody Oliver Hadley!” she said, slamming the desk with the palm of her hand.

“I have no idea what that means.”

“It’s never too late. You know better than that.”

“Do I?”

“Unless you’re not the man I thought you were.”

“And what man is that?”

“The kind of man who knows what he wants,” she said. “Ever since I met you, you’ve always been particular. In a charming way, if a little weird.” She popped a French fry into her mouth, and I waited with raised eyebrows.

“Thank you?”

“You’ve never been indecisive, or insecure, or doubtful.” Now she was chewing with her mouth full, waving fries around as she spoke. “And for someone so obsessed with logic—”

“I’m notobsessed.”

“—you’d think you’d have realized by now that it’s a perfect viable outcome she’s more than likely to give you a second chance.”

“You’ve been spending too much time with Min.”

She rolled her eyes. Brushed salt off her hands onto my desk chair. “Because you’ve been sulking,” she said. “And I’d like for everything to get back to normal. Willow included.”

“I thought this was about my happiness,” I said. “You’ve a selfish hidden agenda now, do you?”

“Two things can be true,” she said with a smile. “Come on, Ol. Are you really going to let the last few months go to waste because of some stupid celebrity gossip?”

“Need I remind you it was her idea to end things because of the celebrity gossip?”

“You said yourself it didn’t seem like she wanted to.” That muchwastrue. She hadn’t even bothered to hide it.