Witches Get Stitches by Juliette Cross
Chapter 16
~VIOLET~
The first thingI noticed when I walked into the Cauldron for Sunday dinner, late as usual, was that one person was not there. Nico.
For months now, he’d been at our Sunday dinners that Jules cooked for the family as well as our Cauldron extended family. Mateo had started inviting Nico since they were cousins and all, which hadn’t bothered me really. Especially after we’d become business partners and we could use the time to talk about the shop in a relaxed environment.
I’d procrastinated today because I needed extra time to scrounge up enough courage to lay all my feelings on the line. To swallow my pride and tell Nico that I was basically an idiot who could see clearly when it came to everyone else. Just not when it came to myself. And also that I really wanted to lick him from head to toe if he didn’t mind.
“Why are you scowling?” asked Clara, carrying a large salad bowl past me from the kitchen. “Your aura is all blurry.”
“Please don’t analyze my emotions today,” I begged her, making my way to the table.
“Well, stop being all blurry then. And your irritation is bleeding over into our twin bubble.”
“There’s no such thing as a twin bubble,” I snapped, following her to the table.
She laughed and shook her head. “Just because you’ve never been able to tap into it doesn’t mean it isn’t real.”
Clara set the giant green salad bowl on the buffet table parallel to the long dining table, which was basically a bunch of four-tops pulled together with tablecloths tossed over them.
Isadora and Devraj were at the far end, their heads bowed together as they whispered like the disgustingly in-love couple they were.
Evie stood behind Mateo at the other end, her arms wrapped around his neck while watching and listening to Livvy carry on about something. Really loudly. But that was the norm for Livvy. Life of the party. She’s a Leo.
Our line cook Sam and food servers Belinda and Finnie were listening to her rattle on about whatever. In the middle of the table was JJ and Charlie, a vacant seat to Charlie’s right.
“Hey, Mateo,” I said all casual as I passed him and Evie. “Nico isn’t coming tonight?”
Mateo leaned back into Evie, reaching back and grasping her behind the knees while turning his head to talk to me. “Not tonight. Said he had some work to do or something.” Mateo’s dark eyes scrutinized my reaction before he asked, “Why? You need him?”
“No, no.” I cleared my throat. “Just thought we could go over some stuff for the grand opening thing, but it can wait.” I waved it off like it was nothing, all the while my stomach twisting into a tight knot.
Nico wasn’t the kind to miss a free meal, especially one prepared by the culinary grand master, Jules. The man liked his food. So I wasn’t thinking it was just coincidence that he decided to skip today of all days. The one after we’d had a clash of sorts. One that had ended with him kicking me out of his house.
Suddenly, I was scared. Nico had never put distance between us. And maybe that was the problem. I’d gotten so used to his constant presence, enjoying our easy camaraderie, our flirty friendship, that I assumed he would always be there. We’d been dancing along the sexual high wire, circling around each other for a long time now. And he’d never gotten angry with me. Except last night, he’d called me out. Then told me he was tired of waiting.
The Tower card had hit me full throttle last night, and now I needed to talk to him. To tell him. Why wasn’t he here?
I’d had it all planned out in my head. I’d pull him aside in the back courtyard behind the kitchen, explain about my reading a year ago but that I’d gotten it all wrong and that I wanted him, and then we’d make out like crazy before finally coming back inside to eat dinner calmly and everything. Then we’d go back to his place and fuck each other’s brains out and officially begin this courtship.
Feeling ornery, I finally plunked down in the chair next to Charlie, immediately catching his deviant expression.
“What are you grinning at, bitch?”
“A little lost lamb. Looking for her wolf.” He batted his dark eyelashes at me.
“Shut your trap, Charles.” I slid my hand under the table and squeezed him on the thigh close to the knee.
He jerked hard and barked out a laugh, knocking the bottom of the table so hard the silverware and glassware clattered. Charlie was ticklish as fuck.
JJ leaned forward on his other side, scowling at the two of us.
“Daddy is mad,” he whispered out of the corner of his mouth.
“Bet that’s what you call him in bed, huh?”
He scoffed at the same time his cheeks flushing rose-pink. “You better behave or I’ll tell the whole table you’re boning your business partner.” He tossed his head so that his blond bangs fell to one side. He was honestly so handsome he was almost pretty. “Or I suppose he is doing the boning. Right?”
“There is no boning going on whatsoever, and even if there was, I wouldn’t be telling you, nosey britches.” I poked him in the ribs and wiggled my finger, which had him squirming away and laughing.
He bumped into JJ on the other side, who then leaned back over and said, “Do I need to separate you two? We’re trying to listen to Livvy.”
I stuck my tongue out at Charlie, then followed JJ’s attention down the table to Livvy sitting at the head, gesturing wildly with a cocktail straw in one hand.
“And if he thinks he can intimidate me with his big brain, that hot nerd has another thing coming.”
“Wait, wait, wait.” Finnie had been leaning back on two legs of his chair, but suddenly plopped forward. “You never called him a hot nerd before.”
Finnie was the kind of guy who was always smiling, even when he talked. He had what some might call “careless charm.” From what JJ had told me, it was working for him waiting tables. He was racking up those tips. As a nursing student at UNO, he needed the money, so good for him.
“He’s right.” Evie finally took her seat next to Mateo, quirking her brow in mock-confusion. “I think I heard you call him butt-munch and fuck-nugget, but never hot herd.”
“Don’t forget cockwaffle,” JJ added.
“Oh, yeah. My favorite,” giggled Evie.
“Hold up,” I interjected. “I have no idea what’s going on. You’re gonna have to tell the story again. Who is a cockwaffle exactly and how has he earned this title?”
Also, I applauded Livvy for her creative profanity. We sometimes played a drinking game to see who could come up with the most unique swear words.
But I also noticed that when her emotions were running high about something or someone, she tended to come up with all manner of names.
Livvy rolled her big blue eyes. “First off, I have eyes, Finnie. He’s using that grim reaper swagger to his benefit. I can see that. But it doesn’t change the fact that he’s also a—” She raised both hands, spluttering to find the right word.
“Thundercunt?” I suggested.
“Yes!” She clapped her hands together, laughing and winking down the table at me. “Nice one.”
“Well, now I need all the details. Please start over.”
“Okay.” She took a deep breath and started from the beginning. “There’s this marketing contest, and it’s sponsored and hosted by Garrison Media Corporation.”
“Should I know them?” I asked.
Finnie, Evie, JJ, and Sam all said in unison, “The biggest PR company in Louisiana.”
Livvy ignored them, giving Finnie the side-eye before going on.
“Anyway, there were some preliminary rounds, which I made it through. But on the semi-final round, we were grouped with two other contestants and given a panel interview. In my group, there was this guy Willard Thompson from Metairie and this grim, Gareth Blackwater.”
She practically spit his name out and hissed it with such venom there was no question who the cockwaffle was.
“You guys actually saw him at The Brat Pack the other night. He was the guy who walked up to us.”
She glanced from me to Clara. I vaguely remembered someone talking to us before we left, but to be honest, I had been severely fixated on Nico at the time.
Devraj perked up, turning away from Isadora and tuning into the conversation. “Gareth? What’s he doing now?”
Apparently, I wasn’t the only one distracted, but this was nothing new for Dev and Isadora. I swear, if we weren’t all here, they’d probably be going to town on top of the table. Not that I was jealous or anything.
“You know him?” Livvy glared at Dev.
He chuckled. “Uh, yeah. He’s done a few jobs for Ruben. As a matter of fact, he’s the one who created the vampire tracing app. Helped us out when those girls went missing.”
Livvy crossed her arms and seethed over this new news. “He’s created his own app?”
“He’s created a couple. His most popular of course is iBite, the vampire app to find blood hosts.”
I swear, I thought there was steam rising out of Livvy’s ears. “Are you kidding me right now? He doesn’t even need the prize money!”
“Forget about that,” said Evie. “Tell us what happened next.
Livvy inhaled a deep breath, getting a hold of her temper. “So, the interview seemed to be going well. Everyone was being respectful of each other, answering the questions. But then after I responded to the guy heading up the contest, I hear this not-so-subtle snort of derision on my left. The douchey grim.”
“Not all grims are bad,” Clara added with a bit of disapproval.
“I didn’t say they were, Clara darling, but this one—” She ringed her hands in front of her, strangling the invisible grim, Gareth, apparently.
“It seems every grim you guys know is a Blackwater,” said Devraj, his fingers combing through Isadora’s hair trailing down her back.
“You want anything?” Charlie asked me in a low voice, starting to get up, nodding toward the bar.
JJ was suddenly out of his chair, a hand on Charlie’s shoulder, gently pushing him back into his seat. “I’ll get it. What do you want?”
Charlie settled back into his chair, that tell-tale blush sweeping his cheeks again.
Well, now, what was this?
“Another Merlot. You, Violet?”
“The same.”
I didn’t miss the way JJ sensuously stroked his thumb across the nape of Charlie’s neck as he walked away. And I couldn’t help but grin like a fiend at Charlie who avoided my gaze, still managing a “shut up” under his breath.
Oh, ho!Charlie boy had some explaining to do. He was definitely the one JJ went on a date with the other night.
“Are you listening, Violet?” Livvy had that you-better-fucking-focus expression on.
“Listening. But I still don’t know what got your panties in such a bunch.”
“Okay, so he makes that aggravating and rather condescending noise in his throat, only so that I can hear, every single time I answer a question for Mr. Davis. So afterwards, when we’re dismissed and told it’ll be another couple of weeks before they choose the finalists, I stopped him outside the building and asked him what his problem was. Do you know what this ass said to me?”
I shook my head since she was obviously creating a dramatic pause for a big finale.
She leaned forward, narrowed her eyes, and lowered her voice as if mimicking the guy. “He gets up in my face and says, ‘I’m onto you, witch. You better not use your magic, or I’ll report you to the Guild.’ Ha! Threatens me like I’m some kind of supernatural criminal.”
I smirked because, although Livvy was vivacious and passionate, she rarely lost her temper. “So what did you tell him?”
Finnie was already snickering behind his hand. He must’ve known what was coming.
Livvy lifted both brows haughtily. “I said, ‘First of all, I don’t need to use my magic to beat you, grim. I’m going to win on my talent alone. And second, you’d be reporting me to my own sister, dimwit, and I think I know whose side she’d take.’ Then I left him there gaping like an idiot.” She smiled victoriously and lifted her drink to take a sip.
We all laughed with her, but I was still a little confused. Sure, he might’ve been out of line a little, but that didn’t seem to warrant this level of rage on her part.
Then again, Livvy liked dramatics, so maybe that’s all it was.
Jules walked in with a giant serving bowl of crawfish fettucine and set it on the buffet table so we could all serve ourselves. “Dinner’s ready.”
As we stood, I called out to Livvy, “So what happens if you’re both finalists in this contest up against each other?”
“Then I guess I’ll have to beat the knobhead and put him in his place for good.”
Jules turned from the buffet, hands on both hips. “What contest? And who’s a knobhead?”
We all groaned, nearly in unison, while Finnie and Evie laughed. Livvy heaved out a sigh. “Nope, nope, nope. I’m not telling it a third time. Later, Jules. Let’s eat your fabulous food.”
“Sounds like a plan,” said Mateo, rubbing a hand over his flat abdomen, nudging Evie in front of him.
She wrinkled her nose a little bit. Fettucine had never been her favorite. The rest fell quickly in line.
After we’d all served our plates and pulled up to the table, the conversation flowed freely as usual: multiple conversations overlapping, and voices rising higher and higher to be heard over everyone else.
Our family meals were a kind of organized chaos, but that’s the way we liked it. Normally, these gatherings fueled me with joy and energy to face another long week as a new business owner.
But tonight, I couldn’t help but glance at the empty chair where Nico usually sat, diagonally across from me next to Evie. A sharp pang pierced my gut.
Sometimes, he’d even bring his guitar and play a few songs that others could sing along to. We didn’t even mind when Clara belted out a solo, sounding like a dying cat as always. It was family and friends and fun.
I wasn’t sure if I was the only one who lamented the noticeable absence. But I was the person who was the likely reason he was avoiding dinner with us.
He probably just needed another day to rest, though. He’d come home a day early and looked worn out from going all wolf and stuff. That’s what I told myself anyway.
After I cleared my plate, taking Evie’s and Mateo’s plates with me, I set the dishes in the giant kitchen sink then pulled out my phone. It wouldn’t hurt just to check in, make sure things were all cool between us.
Me: Hungry? I can bring you a plate of crawfish fettuccine.
I stared and waited a minute or two. Just when I thought he must be asleep or something, he answered.
Nico: No thanks.
I frowned. Somehow I could see him scowling on the other side of the phone.
Me: Okay, then. I’ll bring it to the shop for your lunch tomorrow. Jules insisted.
Lie.
No response. A sickening feeling swirled in my stomach. When no response came again, and it was obvious he wasn’t in a friendly mood, I slipped my phone into my back pocket.
I walked toward the kitchen door then stopped, listening to the chatter and laughter on the other side. It just didn’t sit right with me. Usually, our businessy/flirty texts ping-ponged back and forth for twenty or thirty minutes.
Huffing out a frustrated breath, I texted back quickly.
Me: We need to meet first thing in the morning with Livvy to hammer out the details of the grand opening celebration. 8:00 a.m.
I sent it, murmuring, “There.” When he didn’t respond a-fucking-gain, I furiously typed an addendum. Deleted it. Typed it again, then sent it.
Me: I expect you to be there. On time.
He was never late for our meetings, so I don’t know why I felt it necessary to add that.
Actually, I did. I was pissed, and some part of me wanted to poke the bear. Or the wolf, in this case, to get some sort of reaction out of him. What did I get?
Nico: Can’t. Won’t be into the shop tomorrow. Make it Tuesday.
“What’s wrong?” Clara stood in the open doorway, a stack of dirty dishes in her hands.
“Nothing,” I snapped, turning and heading toward the back exit, not wanting to try to lie my way out of this one. Clara knew something was wrong just by looking at me. “Tell Jules I headed home. Got some work to do.”
Before anyone else could stop me, I pushed into the cold night air, turning my face up toward the moon. It was still mostly full, just starting to wane on one side.
After inhaling another deep, cleansing breath, I marched through the back courtyard and then down the alley between the Cauldron and Mystic Maybelle’s toward our house.
I sent a text, telling him that was fine, though it didn’t feel fine.
Where the hell did he have to go tomorrow? Why wasn’t he coming into work? I wanted to know, but not enough to ask him. Then I shot a text to Livvy, telling her we had a meeting Tuesday morning since I’d made all that shit up just to get some sort of reaction out of the damn man. I had to make it legit now.
Rather than texting me back, she telepathed a quick message, I’ll be there. As an Influencer, Livvy had the ability to telepath. But it was a one-way connection unless she was chatting with another Influencer with the same gift. Like Cole, our cousin.
That taken care of, I walked quickly home. The nausea in my stomach was swelling to new heights. There was only one thing to do.
After the meeting Tuesday morning, I’d pull him aside and tell him. Or maybe take him out to lunch. That would be better. But I wasn’t sure if I could wait another whole day to get this off my chest, especially when my psychic magic tingled every single time I thought of him, warning me to make it right since I’d fucked it up.
But I’d respect him if he needed time to cool off after our last encounter. I wasn’t an Aura like Clara, but he’d been pissed at me. I wanted him calm and open-minded when I explained things, because he’d likely be angry all over again.
I waited for the nausea to disappear now that I knew my definite course of action. After two Tums, a shower, and three gulps of Pepto Bismol, it hadn’t gone away. So I took a sleeping pill to knock myself out.
I needed a good rest tonight, so I’d be ready to open up my stubborn heart and prepare for possible rejection Tuesday morning.