Page 46 of Love Spells: And Other Non-Refundable Magic

The bell above the door rings as I start the espresso.

I don’t pay attention at first. Someone comes in, Luis says good morning, and I’m reaching for the milk when I hear the scrape of something hitting the floor, followed almost immediately by a familiar voice.

“Oh, shit.”

Merry is crouched beside the display near the register, one hand wrapped around her phone while the other reaches for a bag of chocolate-covered espresso beans she has apparently knocked out of its freestanding basket.

There’s another woman standing behind her.

She’s around Merry’s age, maybe a little younger, with long, light brown hair pulled into a loose braid and enough layers on her body that I can’t immediately tell where one piece of clothing ends and the next begins. A canvas tote hangs from one shoulder, covered in faded patches, and she’s holding two books against her chest while she watches Merry retrieve the bag from the floor.

“You know,” she says, “most people put their phones away when they’re walking.”

“I was standing.”

“And look what happened.”

Merry puts the espresso beans back into the basket and straightens. “Whose side are you on?”

“The coffee shop’s, duh.”

The woman looks toward the counter as she says it.

Her eyes land on me. Then they move back to Merry. Then to me again.

Something in her expression changes.

Not enough that I could identify it if I didn’t spend a large percentage of my working life watching people decide what they want before they order it, but enough that I know she’s noticed something.

I don’t know what.

Merry, meanwhile, has gone right back to her phone.

“Still nothing?” the woman asks.

“No.”

“Maybe you should give her more than six minutes,” the woman says. “She probably has a life.”

“It’s been way longer than six minutes, Rose.”

“Since the last time you checked?”

Merry looks up. “That’s not the same thing.”

The woman smiles and steps forward when the line moves.

I glance at Luis, and his grin is so mischievous he reminds me of that cartoon cat from the animated movie.

“Hi,” he says when they reach the register. “What can I get started for you?”

“Tea,” the woman—Rose—says. “Whatever you have that’s herbal. No lavender.”

Luis nods. “We have a ginger turmeric or⁠—”

“Flora.”

I glance up to find Merry looking at me with a soft smile on her lips.