Chapter 3

3

Gabriel took a sip of his wine, a well-aged cabernet, as his little sister doubled over in laughter. It rang around the large room they'd designated as the lounge, sweeping from the Aubusson rug to the twelve-foot ceiling.

"I'm glad you find it so amusing," he commented, tapping a restless hand against his right thigh.

"Oh, come on, Gabriel." She threw herself into the deep cushions of the white couch, curling her legs underneath her. She was dressed casually in jeans and a lavender blouse, the charm bracelet he'd enchanted dangling from her wrist.

"I don't see what's funny." He stared into his drink. "I earned that title."

He felt the slide of a telekinetic touch move through his hair, a sister's comfort. "You'll show them," she said, matter-of-factly, twisting her fall of black hair over one shoulder. "Goodnights always have the final word. Right?"

He put his drink aside on a silver coaster, pushing to stand. He wandered to the mantelpiece, glowering at the fire, which roared to life at a word from him.

His sister didn't let him brood. "What did Uncle August think?"

Gabriel tossed a look over his shoulder. "He suggested I walk away."

"You wouldn't."

"It's tempting."

"Oh, please." She snorted. "You were born to run the place. Even if you don't like, you know, the people part."

He slid a hand into his trouser pocket. "Apparently that's part of the issue."

"Huh?"

"August thinks the clause is there to get me out of my comfort zone." The words were heavy with derision. "So I can take our company into a new era, bring more humans on board."

"You don't agree?"

"I don't see how skipping with humans is going to convince me that they're any less dangerous, no."

Melly clapped her hands together. " Please have someone record it if you skip." She beamed at his scowl, but relented. "Okay, so, basically you have to live as a human. It's wild. And it sounds like Dad. At least," her voice got smaller, "from what you've said about him."

"It is." He didn't tell her he thought the clause was actually designed to make him quit. He wanted her to know only the good about their parents since she knew so little. "Mell... I want to know how you feel about me going."

"I'm so jealous. You'll learn loads." She shot him an encouraging smile. "You love learning."

He grunted. "I meant, how you feel about living here alone." He linked his hands behind his back, watching her face. "I already spoke to Mrs. Q and she's happy to stay with you full-time, but if you're uncomfortable at all, I'll speak to the board."

Melly waved that away. "It's three months. And Mrs. Q doesn't need to stay here, I'll be fine on my own."

"No, you won't." He shuddered at the idea of leaving his fourteen-year-old sister, an adept witch, alone for twelve weeks. "And don't even think about visiting."

Her face fell. "Oh, come on."

"No."

She huffed. He knew the subject wasn't dropped; she was just regrouping. "Whatever, I'll be fine. Got my potions to keep me busy." Melly was her mother's daughter and loved messing around with potions, trying to improve them. Something Gabriel encouraged, even if she had blown the roof off her bedroom last year.

Oh, Goddess.

"No potions whilst unsupervised."

She threw up her hands, as dramatic as he was contained. "Am I supposed to sit in the corner?"

"That would be perfect." He almost smiled as he felt the hard thwack of a telekinetic forehead flick. "When I return, we'll work on them then."

"You suck at potions."

Affronted, he drew back. "I do not."

"You screw up twice as many potions as I do."

"I disagree."

She began to count them off on her fingers and he hurriedly intervened. "Regardless, it would bring your big brother some peace if you could refrain from blowing yourself up whilst he's away."

She laughed, the Goodnight dimple flashing in her cheek. "Fine. I'll be careful if you're careful. Or maybe I should be getting you to promise the opposite."

He refused to go down that road.

She heaved a breath, drawing her knees up and propping her elbows on them. "So, where are you thinking?"

There was really only one place. "Chicago."

"You're not sticking to New Orleans?"

"No." The last thing he needed was his contemporaries mocking him. "It will be easier somewhere further away."

"Okay, but why Chicago?"

Gabriel grabbed his wine as it slid through the air at his gesture. "Emmaline Bluewater made waves when she and Tia Hightower opened a bar that caters to humans." That idea alone... He'd have wondered how they'd got past the High Family, but the rulers were always more relaxed about business dealings. "I can use my connections to get a temporary position there. Emmaline is recently engaged to Bastian Truenote."

"You know him?"

"Henry does." Henry Pearlmatter was Gabriel's oldest, maybe only, friend. A legacy Higher warlock like Gabriel, he knew every powerful family in the US and Europe.

"I heard he proposed to her last month at the Truenote ball." A down-to-the-bone romantic, Melly sighed, eyes going gooey. "And after everyone was so mean to her."

He hadn't seen the moment that had set witch society ablaze, having been out in the gardens after meeting his mystery witch, wondering who she was and failing to figure it out. All for the best, he supposed, since it appeared she and Kole Bluewater were together.

He drank his wine, washing away the sudden bad taste.

Melly eyed him. "So, you want to work in a bar?"

"Why not?"

"Gabriel." She made a "get real" gesture; one he was often on the receiving end of. "You suck with people."

Gabriel worked his jaw, unable to rebut the point. "I'm sure I'll manage." And at least this job would have a literal boundary between him and the human clientele. Less chance of anything going wrong that way.

Melly wasn't finished. "You'll have to smile, be charming..."

"I'll have to pour drinks and take money. How hard could that be?"

"Ha. Famous last words, brother."

Leah charged into Toil and Trouble, letting the bar's double doors swing shut on the sheets of rain pelting the sidewalks—and the people unlucky enough to be on them. Droplets slid down her back as she walked forward, making her squirm as she automatically greeted the customers she knew, smiling at those she didn't.

To the group of men watching an NHL game on the enormous wide-screen hung on the exposed brick wall, she waved, adding some personal insults. The men were regulars, switching sports with the seasons, and she knew with April in sniffing distance, they'd be donning their baseball gear, same as she would. She'd never miss Opening Day. Cubs and proud, y'all.

"It's coming down hard," she announced to her friends when she was close enough.

Tia leaned on the walnut bar that ran the length of the thirty-foot space, where she'd been chatting with their third business partner, Emma, who perched on one of the cushioned barstools. They both smiled in acknowledgment.

To look at them, nobody would connect them as business partners, let alone friends.

Tia Hightower was a witch with capital C confidence, a born leader, no matter that she was currently acting as bartender while they searched for someone to fill the again-empty position. Even though it wasn't a suit, the coral jeans and cream crop tee that set off her brown skin gorgeously did nothing to dim her power. She never had to worry about fitting in as her family made the rules and pretty much did whatever the hell she wanted.

Emma Bluewater, on the other hand, was practical to the bone, though she did take some risks, and made worrying about Leah one of her primary tasks. Like Tia, she came from a Higher witch family, but unlike Tia, her family lived on the fringes and witch society had never let her forget it. It was why she could be painfully shy with new people, even when her personality tended toward dry humor.

Leah bet her cautious friend had never imagined running a bar. Toil and Trouble had been Leah's idea, providing Emma with a steady job after she'd abandoned New Orleans for Chicago eight years ago, while also cementing the bonds between all three.

And okay, after they'd spilled the big secret, she'd thought opening a cocktail bar with them might bring a little magic into her own life.

Leah plopped onto a neighboring stool now and used one of the paper napkins out of the nearby dispenser to soak up the worst of the wet. "I lost track of time at the shelter," she said, squeezing her hair into the tissue, "taking photos of the new residents for the website, playing with some of the seniors. Before I knew it, it was cats and dogs outside, too." And the animal shelter where she volunteered was a good twenty, thirty-minute hustle. It hadn't taken two minutes before even her underwear was soaked.

"How's the place doing? Sorry I haven't been by for a while." Emma winced, offering, "Bastian and I took Sloane to Germany for a few days."

"Oh, yeah? She have fun?"

"She and Bastian did something called the Sachertorte challenge."

"How much did she throw up?"

"What happens in Germany stays in Germany."

Leah grinned. "Wise. And don't worry about the shelter. We're fine. I mean, Sonny's moaned about the bills a bit, but I'm sure it's just a rough patch." She waved that away. "Okay, I need you to tell it to me straight." She took a breath. "What's the hair situation?"

Tia and Emma exchanged a look.

"That bad?"

"It's got volume," Emma offered. Tia snorted.

That was Leah's hair cross to bear—when wet, her curls expanded like nobody's business.

Philosophically, she discarded the wet napkin and pledged not to look in any mirrors. "So, where is the old soon-to-be ball and chain?"

Emma lifted the latte that sat on the bar. One hell of a rock in a platinum setting sparkled on her hand. Leah drooled just looking at it. "He's with a friend."

Tia grumbled, dark eyes flashing.

Emma ignored her. "He and Henry are apartment hunting since we want a bigger place than my shoebox."

"You want me to ask my mom? She knows everyone; she might know some nice places."

"Your mom's idea of nice and mine are probably a little different."

Leah made a pshaw sound. "Please, we're not that rich. I've seen Bastian's parents' house now, remember? Talk about Daddy Warlock with the Warbucks."

" Stop. " At the mention of magic, Emma's eyes grew rabbity.

Leah chucked her under the chin but relented. "Best behavior. Promise."

"Hmm."

They passed the time discussing the future wedding, not that there was much to plan since Emma and Bastian had already gone through the motions the year before. Back then, Emma had looked caged. Now, whenever Bastian's name came up, she got the gooey look. After all the shit they'd gone through, God knew her friend deserved it.

And it gave Leah hope that maybe she'd one day find a good guy of her own, as opposed to her last date, who'd brought his mother and aunt along to vet her.

Seriously. Worst taste in men ever.

"All I'm saying is, who wants a gray bridesmaid dress?" Tia's gorgeous face set in mutinous lines. "Why do you punish me?"

"It's my wedding and it's a very pretty dress."

Tia's lips went sulky. "Fine. But at my wedding, I'm making you wear bright red and you'll like it."

"You picked the bridesmaid dresses?" Grinning, Leah jiggled her wet sneakers on the stool's rung. "What do they look like? Will we be matching?"

Emma's smile faltered as Tia's expression melted into sympathy.

And Leah got a reality check.

Masking the sharp ache of disappointment, Leah reassured her distressed friend that she was totally fine about missing out, provided someone record the ceremony. It was Emma's day and she refused to take any shine from her friend's smile.

Even if it did sometimes feel like she was a kid pressing her hand to the glass window, forever on the outside, forever waiting to be let in.

They'd hit the lull hour, the moment when everyone was one breath from leaving the office, so Leah volunteered to cover restocking. She had the time. Her three dogs were at day care for another hour, a new arrangement since they usually spent their days either with Peggy, who rented a room in Leah's house, or with Leah's mom. But Peggy was on a wild weekend with friends and Leah's mom was traveling with her new husband on their extended honeymoon, so it was the delights of doggy day care for the foreseeable future.

Carrying the last bottles of rosé up from the cellar, Leah walked in from the hall as Tia's voice rose with agitation.

"...can't believe he even asked." Her foot tapped a hard beat on the wooden floor.

"Apparently, he's still bugging Henry and Bastian. I wouldn't put it past him to just show up." Emma bent to stroke her constant companion and witch familiar, Chester, a cute-ugly basset hound mix. "We need to—" She cut off, spotting Leah.

Who glanced between the pair as she placed the box on the bar top. "O-kay," she said. "Color me curious. What're you two talking about?"

Tia's sharp gaze tracked the space, making sure they were alone before she said, "A warlock's been asking for a job at the bar."

Leah swallowed the delighted yip before it made it out. Get real, Turner. "You said no."

"Hell, yeah." Tia pointed at her. "You can't lie for shit."

"Can, too."

"Emma."

Emma smiled weakly. "Bastian figured you out in weeks."

"He's shrewd," Leah argued, then waved a hand. "Whatever, you guys already ban witches from this place. I don't expect you to suddenly change your tune." Despite how many times she'd argued she could handle it. Didn't she handle it when the Cubs' second baseman had strolled in for a drink? Did she tear open her shirt and ask him to sign her boob? No. She'd only made him pose for three photos, sign her Cubs cap and joked about giving him a child. He'd taken it well. Not that they'd ever seen him again.

Emma fiddled with one of the paper napkins. "You know it's asking for trouble, having witches in here."

"Yeah, and Gabriel Goodnight would definitely be adding gasoline to the fire."

Leah's heart kicked. "Gabriel Goodnight?"

Memories invaded of a darkened balcony, green eyes, soft lips.

Thank you for being a stranger with me.

Oblivious, Tia ripped the tape off the box of rosé with a curl of her lip. "The Warlock of Contempt himself." When Emma frowned, Tia held up a hand. "You know it's not just me that calls him that."

"Still feels like bullying." Something she'd felt herself from witch society.

Tia began to stack the bottles on the counter. "It's true, though. I've never seen the man smile or laugh or show anything other than contempt."

"Bastian says Henry likes him."

Tia's face darkened further, as it did whenever her ex was mentioned. "Doesn't that say it all?"

Leah made a time-out gesture. "Guys. Why's he called the Warlock of Contempt?"

"Witch is collective for all, warlock for singular men."

"Not what I meant." She bent to Chester as he trotted her way. She ruffled his long ears, placing a kiss on his nose. "I thought all witch society was stuck up like that."

"Even society demands some interaction. They tolerate him because he's a Goodnight, but he makes people uncomfortable." Tia shrugged, reaching for more bottles. "Luckily he only makes the odd obligatory appearance, too wrapped up in his family's business to socialize."

I don't play. His words.

"If he's such a workaholic," she said to Chester, who threw himself on his back for a belly rub. His leg kicked in the air as she obliged and fought to sound casual. "Why does he want to work here ?"

Emma winced. "Ah, apparently it has to do with some kind of hoop he has to jump through to inherit his company."

"But you said..."

"It was his parents'." Tia opened the under-counter fridge and began sliding in the bottles. "They died, oh, about eleven, twelve years ago, I think? Left him and his two-year-old sister orphans." Her tone was matter-of-fact but she avoided looking at them, as if she knew they'd see the unwilling sympathy in her eyes. She hated showing too much soft emotion.

Whereas Leah couldn't help it. "That's so sad."

"Well, apparently he needs to spend some time living among humans before claiming the CEO title."

Leah frowned. "That's...weird. You guys are so weird. Why is that even a thing? What kind of company is this?"

"Pharmaceutical, medical and beauty," Emma cut in. "You'd know their products. Goodnight's Remedies?"

"Oh, sure," Leah said, startled. "I see their ads all the time. I even bought the wrinkle cream for my mom. She raves about it." Now she knew why.

Emma sent a look toward the door, checking for anyone coming in. "Right. And on top of that, they also manufacture magical medicines. Like for illnesses, accidents, diseases."

"He wants to help people," Leah murmured, a melty feeling spreading throughout her body.

Tia barked a laugh, closing the fridge and picking up the box to flatten it. "His parents wanted to help people," she corrected. "Both witches and humans. Goodnight wants the company. Goddess knows why. I can't see him caring about...well, anyone."

"You have to admire the tactic," Emma said, her tone diplomatic. "Making him interact with humans when he and all the other Higher family snobs usually keep their distance. It'll prove how serious he is."

Laurence flashed into Leah's mind.

Tia snorted. "Who cares? I just want to know what menial job Gabriel Goodnight is going to be forced to do. I'd pay big money to see that." She grinned as she hugged the now-flat box to her chest, then added, "But not here."

"Not here," Emma confirmed. She clearly caught the expression on Leah's face, turning to her in warning. "Don't get stuck on this, Leah. He doesn't need our help."

"Sounds like he does to me." The idea of seeing Gabriel again toyed with Leah's senses. Not smart, not really, but the temptation dizzied her. All that stood in her way was changing her friends' minds.

Piece of cake.

She corralled her expression, deliberately taking a nonchalant tone. "Didn't you say he wasn't taking no for an answer?"

"So?"

"Well, if you keep refusing, won't that look worse for you? Like you have something to hide?"

Tia eyed her with suspicion. "What's it matter to you?"

"I happen to be a nice person."

"Really? What's that like?"

"Just...come on, guys. You want to stand in the way of someone who's only trying to inherit his dead parents' company?" She pressed on the weak chink in Tia's armor, knowing her friend well. Sucker for family, that one. "That's low."

Sure enough, Tia's shoulders slumped.

"It's our place, he'd have to abide by our rules," Leah pointed out. Nudging, nudging. "You could do it so you'd be comfortable. A few shifts here and there."

Emma nibbled at her thumbnail, said nothing.

Progress. Leah backed off. "Just think about it. All I'm saying is, if you don't want people suddenly wondering why you don't let witches come around, it might be best to let one in under your terms."

By the end of the week, after much cajoling on Leah's part and apparently some relentless pushing on Gabriel's, it was settled—Gabriel Goodnight was coming to Toil and Trouble .