“Did Joe tell you about offering me a job?” Romy asks as she cuts into her medium-rare steak.
“Yeah.”
“I don’t know what to do.”
“Quitting your job is a big decision.”
“It is. Even though I’m not entirely happy anymore, it’s tough. I’ve learned a lot there. My life is easy and predictable. I have good friends at work.” She sighs. “It’s so funny, all the times I’ve wished I could get out of there and now I can, I’m thinking of all the reasons not to. I would kind of miss it.”
“Those are all valid considerations.” I’m trying hard not to influence her.
“So are being creative and learning new things.”
“True.”
“I’d have more time to work on my Etsy designs. And I’m making money doing that. And being part of the Candler business is kind of intriguing.”
“What are you afraid of?”
“I’m not sure.” She bends her head. “It’s not money. I could find another software job if I had to, with my experience. If things didn’t work out at Dream Homes.”
“Of course you could.”
“I guess…” She pokes her fork into her potatoes. “I guess I’m afraid I won’t do a good job. Doing this kind of work is new for me. And it’s bad enough letting clients down, but when it’s your family… that you’ve only just found…”
I stay silent. I know exactly what she’s talking about. I don’t push very hard on the changes I think we should make at Dream Homes, because they’re my “family,” the only family I have now. I don’t want to get seriously involved with Romy for exactly that reason—because of my family. What kind of advice can I give her? None. I’m afraid of letting down my family too.
“I keep thinking about what you said to me that night at the Singing Horse,” she continues. “The night you all told me about being witches.”
I nod slowly.
“You asked me if I was brave enough.”
I swallow. “Right.”
“You told me to have the courage to open my mind to the possibilities.”
I nod slowly.
“So… I think that’s what I should do. Again.”
One corner of my mouth lifts in a reluctant smile. “Brave girl.”
“I’m trying.” She meets my eyes. “But I’m scared.”
“Yeah.” I touch my fingertips to her soft cheek. “I get it. Being scared is a reaction. But being brave is a decision.”
Her eyes widen and soften. “Yes. You’re right. Oh, Trace, I—” She stops.
“What, sweet thing?”
She blinks rapidly, staring at me. Then she turns back to her dinner. “Thank you. You always help me figure things out.”
“Of course.” I pick up a piece of steak on my fork. “After dinner, I’ll help you figure out whether you like sixty-nine better on your back or on top.”
After a beat, she lets out a shocked laugh. “Trace!” She pauses. “Maybe I like it on my side.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Well, then. Eat up.”
The sex is getting better and hotter… and I’m getting more and more conflicted. If I thought my obsession with Romy would lessen when we started fucking around, holy shit was I wrong. I want her all the goddamn time. But the more we do it, the more I feel like I’m sliding down a slippery slope into trouble with a capital T.
I feel like she strips everything away, all the protective barriers I’ve constructed over the years, leaving me naked. Vulnerable. It’s fucking terrifying.
But we keep seeing each other, and not just for sex—we’ve gone to the street fair, we’ve gone shopping, we’ve gone to movies. We’re pretty much “dating”—except nobody else knows about it but us. And Garrett. And that’s getting harder and harder too. One of us is going to say something, or we’re going to slip up and start making out at a family dinner. And then the feces will hit the rotating blades.
And the longer it goes on, the worse it’s going to be. I feel like I should go to Joe and ask for permission to date his daughter—but it’s way too late for that. And that’s stupid anyway. Who does that in this day and age?
I worry that Romy’s going to get hurt and there’s going to be a lot of collateral damage. It’s starting to eat away at me inside. We haven’t actually lied to anyone, but not telling people what’s happening is basically the same thing.
So instead of letting her stay over, which she has a couple of times, I take her home, making up a bullshit story about an early-morning job site visit. She pouts in a cute way but understands and gives me a sizzling good-night kiss when I drop her off. Which makes me feel even shittier.
The next day, I go for a beer with Garrett after work. We meet at the Hearty Cow, which is hopping with happy-hour patrons crowded around the bar. We order beers and carry them to a small table against the wall.
“I’m hungry,” I say, grabbing a menu card. I read the selections and scowl. “Never mind.”
“How’s work?”
I rub my forehead. “Ugh.”
“That bad?”
“No. Business is good.”
“Uh-huh.” He eyes me. “Who shat in your shreddies this morning?”
I roll my eyes. “Nobody.”
“Then why the grumpy face if business is good?”
“Joe offered Romy a job.”
“What?” His eyebrows climb to his hairline. “Really?”
“Yeah. Doing website and computer stuff. She likes that shit.”
“Wow. But… why is that making you salty?”
I look down at the table and study the wood grain. It’s oak. “I don’t know.”
“Yeah, you do.” He lifts his hand in a beckoning gesture. “Spill it.”
“I’m fuckstrated.”
Garrett laughs. “Not getting any?”
“Oh yeah. Getting lots. And it’s amazing. I think I need to end it.”
“Oh shit.”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“Because I always do,” I say impatiently. “Better sooner than later.”
“Huh.” He falls silent, tapping his chin.
“What?”
“I’m trying to see things from your point of view. But I can’t get my head that far up my ass.”
I bark out a laugh.
Garrett’s lips twitch. “Seriously. Why do you always do that? That’s the question.”
“I’m not worth it,” I say roughly. “And even more so now. The Board of Elders is pissed at me for what happened with Romy. Ziggy even threatened to strip me of my powers. Fuck.” I shake my head. “So much for ever being able to bring my folks back.”
He narrows his eyes. “So you are still on that.”
I sigh. “I still think about it, yeah.”
“Man. You need to move on.”
“I have. Mostly.”
“So what does that have to do with Romy?”
“As if I wasn’t a big enough loser before, now I’m on the outs with the elders. Fuck.”