2. Clark

Clark

" H ey, Clark? Do you want me to unpack this shipment?"

My teacup clatters on the saucer as my employee's voice breaks through my daydream.

"Please, Louis. You know what to do."

He nods and returns to the unpacking waiting in the storefront. He's a good man. Louis needed a job that would understand his mood swings and perhaps treat him a little kinder than the rest of the world.

I don't mind taking a chance on him. So far, he's been a good worker and doesn't judge me for my eccentric shop or beliefs.

Beautiful Belladonna is my baby. This magic shop, with all the books, magic-themed giftware, and items to cast spells, is my life's dream. Ever since I was a kid, I was obsessed with magic. Even when I swore the love spell I made for Adam McIntyre worked after he punched me in the face. He noticed me when I chanted over his lunch, though. So, technically, it worked. Magic has had its hooks in me since then, and I couldn't let it go .

Bubbling cauldrons are so Hollywood. Real magic is spells cast through words and the mixing of potions with ingredients combined with mortars, not your mom's bullet blender she forgot she owned. It's watching the cycles of the moon and harnessing the power of planets with the perfectly timed spell. Magic is everywhere if you practice and learn to work with the universe around you.

And right now, instead of balancing my monthly ledger, I'm flipping through the Spells of Today weekly journal, wondering how the heck I can summon the fantastically gorgeous man from the sex club.

Which I had never been to before in person. I'm not a cam boy, but I've gotten off while people watched me online. It thrills me almost as much as practising magic. I love being watched, and it was one million times better when the watcher was right there in front of me and not behind a screen.

A weird tingling whoosh ran through my entire body while I was on display in the club. It intensified the longer I held eye contact with that man—the hot-as-sin man in the lavender shirt.

The man with brown hair in a messy bun and molten gaze locked on me was real. I could have touched him if I wanted…well, if he agreed, that is. Lord knows I wanted to. But his companion showed up when I thought about stepping off the stage. The dude was enormous and, to be honest, scary.

So, I bolted to avoid the embarrassment of perhaps the partner not being into voyeurism. But the man in the pretty lavender shirt with gorgeous eyes has been all I've been able to think about since.

"Boss, what do I do with these alabaster things?"

My daydreaming comes to an end to tend to Louis.

"They're mortar and pestles. Price them and put them on a display."

He hesitates, but I reassure him. "Louis, I'll check your work and if I have suggestions, I'll tell you, okay?"

With a nod, he leaves my office and I take a sip from my tea, but it's grown cold. I should make more, but it's likely to turn cold again. I'm too distracted to drink it.

"If there was ever a time to have a spell work, it should be now. I need to find this stranger."

The way he watched me while I jerked myself off in front of him set me on fire. He wasn't like the others in the room. He invested his attention and catalogued every inch of me. The man's eyes made me feel like I was being undressed, even though I was already mostly naked. His was a stare that stood out, and his gaze was a string that pulled me to him. The man wanted to watch as badly as I wanted to perform.

And that tingling feeling was new. Not unwelcome either. People say they come so hard they see stars. I didn't see stars, but I saw…something. And I want to see it— him —again.

Of course, finding him is only the first hurdle.

Inevitably, once I find a man, the next stumbling block is having them accept my belief in magic and respect my store like it's not some stupid hobby. I make damn good money here and it's thriving. Sure, a lot of my customers think it's a big joke, but they still give me their money.

The monthly magic club meetings boost my income into a range that sometimes feels surreal by the time they leave. So, it's a legitimate business, and it thrives because I believe in it just as much as magic.

I need a man who supports my love of magic and this store.

I won't budge on that. Ever.

But I'm not a master of spells. I've dabbled my entire life, and while I've been successful a handful of times—those daffodils didn't bloom on their own!—I've never been successful with a love spell.

If I had been, I wouldn't be thirty-eight years old and still searching for the perfect man. I came close once. But asking me to give up this store was a no-go.

"A-ha!" I bounce in my chair as I keep reading.

There, in the weekly journal of spells, is a note about love spells. A new combination of words and ingredients has brought positive results! The woman claims she's mixed the same four ingredients and chanted the same words while playing Ed Sheeran music, and the next day, a man knocked on her door!

They're dating!

This is excellent news. I have these ingredients in stock and I'll check the phases of the moon before I try it.

Marking the page in the journal for later, I leave the office to find Louis still unpacking the shipment and doing a decent job arranging a display.

"Looks great, Louis. What do you have left to do?"

"I have a second box still to enter into your inventory. And I thought I'd reorganize the table of books in front. Your magic meeting is next week, right?"

"It is."

He smiles big and taps a finger on the book table.

"They said they're talking about spells for the fall since Halloween is coming. So I thought it might be cool to have a display of fall stuff?"

"Brilliant Louis. That's a great idea. If you take the book down titled Seasonal Sorcery , there should be plenty of spells for autumn you can pull information from. The sky is the limit with what you decide."

The smile on his face is my reward for trusting him.

"I'm going to run down to the bakery. Do you want one of those apple fritters?"

"Oh god, that would be great. I love those things."

"I know." I wink as he laughs. During his first week of work, I brought a box of fritters in, and he ate them all. But if my leaving free snacks out helps him even a little, I'll do it as often as I can.

"Oh, Clark, you should take a flyer with you to the bakery and ask to hang it up. Having a bigger magic club wouldn't be a bad thing, right?" Louis hands me an information sheet from the pile on the counter.

"Another splendid idea, Louis! I'll do that. "

Since it's a gorgeous fall day—and winter will be here before we know it—I walk to the bakery, armed with the flyer and my wallet.

I love everything about the fall. The colours, the smells, and the drop in temperature. I'm not a huge pumpkin lover, though. They're cute to look at, just not to eat, and that's a hill I'll die on.

The aroma of freshly baked donuts greets me as I step into the bakery. Nothing would ever make it to the shelves if I worked in a bakery.

"Clark! Good afternoon. How's business these days?"

The owner of the bakery is a good man. Andy Dauphin has worked at the bakery his whole life and bought it from his father a few years ago. We met at a meeting for business owners hosted by the Chamber of Commerce when I first opened my store. Andy took me under his wing and gave me advice that I soaked up like a sponge. Knowing what store sells garbage bags at the lowest price is valuable information.

"Hi ya, Andy! Business is good. How about you?" I scan the display case, and I'm relieved to see the apple fritters still there. One time, there was a small altercation in the store over the last fritter. A ninety-year-old man won the fight with his cane. You can't mess around when it comes to Andy's apple fritters.

"I can't complain. You know what they say. No one would listen anyway."

We both smile and laugh, and I hold up the flyer for the magic club .

"Do you mind if I post this on your bulletin board? I'd like my magic club to grow. It's been a while since anyone new has joined."

"Of course. Pin it up there. Pull down anything that's passed and make room. People love looking at that board." He assembles a box while we talk, and I pin the notice. "How many fritters this time? Is Louis still working out okay?"

Satisfied with the flyer's place, I turn back to Andy.

"He is. He's gaining confidence but still shaky." I point to the lemon-filled donuts. "I'll get two of those as well, please."

"I think I'll hire a young lad from the outreach centre. Also, a recovering addict like your guy. He has no baking skills, but he's been clean for two years, and the counsellor there recommended him. As an ex-priest, I trust his judgment on the guy's character."

Andy places the donuts and fritters in a box, and I grab two loaves of bread from the shelf.

"I hope that works out for you. I know Louis still struggles with money. It's hard to live when you make a low wage, and I can't justify paying him something too high. But I bring fritters and a loaf of bread sometimes. He's proud, but he'll take the help here and there when I offer it subtly, you know?"

"You're a good guy, Clark. You give me the courage to help someone out."

I pay for my purchases and chat with Andy a bit more before leaving. On my way out, a small group arrives and immediately flocks to the notice board.

I have a good feeling the magic club will grow.