Free Hot Magic by Holli Bertram Page B

with. I’ve told you that,” she said gently.  
    “I’ll quit.”
    She grinned and picked up the tickets and advertisement, putting them back in the folder. “Have fun at the show. And thank you for inviting me.” She held out the folder until he took it.
    “I won’t give up, Julie.”
    “Which makes me worry about you, Joe. Go find somebody exciting. I’m a middle-aged woman enjoying a quiet life.”
      “Hey, I like the quiet life, too. After a glass of warm milk, I’m in bed by nine o’clock most nights. Maybe you could join me sometime.”  
    She laughed. “I’m serious. I’ve raised a good kid and crafted a decent career. All I want is to relax during my off time. I’m not looking to start anything new.”
    “Want to go for a double mocha latte and see if a spurt of caffeine won’t oil your aging engines?”
    You had to give the guy points for persistence. She really was tired, coffee really would help, and going to the cafeteria with a colleague wasn’t even close to a date. But most important of all, Joe was so blessedly normal. No fireworks or violins to distract her. No talk of curses and strange powers.
    “Coffee sounds great.” She stood and walked around her desk. The office was small, and Joe just had to reach out a hand to touch the smudges beneath her eyes.
    “Is everything okay, Julie?”
    “No. Everything is pretty much shot to hell, Joe.”
    When she didn’t elaborate, he draped a supportive arm around her shoulders and guided her out the door. She paused, surprised by the sudden rumble of thunder that reverberated against the windows lining one wall of the hallway. “Wasn’t it sunny out two minutes ago?”
    Black clouds covered the sky in an ominous blanket. Lightning lashed out at the ground.  
    “This blew up quickly,” Joe commented, dropping his arm when she stepped away from him. “It’ll probably blow over just as fast.”
    The drum of thunder pushed against the glass with an insistent fist. Julie paused, unsettled. “‘You can’t stop a storm, but you can shut a window so it doesn’t get in the house.’”
    Joe gave her a strange look. “Is there a window open somewhere?”
    Julie shook her head. “No, that’s just something my Mom always used to say whenever it stormed.” She shook her head as if to clear it. “You know Michigan weather. Storms can pop out of nowhere.”
    Joe grinned and pushed the button for the elevator that would take them up three flights to the sixth-floor cafeteria. “That reminds me of a study I just read on the effect of weather on mental health. This study didn’t just look at amount of sunlight, but took temperature….”
    Julie nodded a couple of times, not really listening. She stared at the rolling clouds outside the windows until the elevator doors closed, blocking her view.
     
    H arrison stood in her office when she returned. Julie almost dropped her half-empty cup of coffee.
    “Hi.” She sounded more breathy than she wanted to. He wore black pants and a white shirt open at the neck. A casual look for him. He stared at her, cold and silent.
    “Um, should I kneel or something? Mom says you’re a pretty important guy.”
    “I only want to see you kneeling in front of me for one reason.” He didn’t even smile when he said it.
    “Funny man.” She stepped into the room and shut the door. No need to fuel office gossip. “You look angry. I take it your chat with Marguerite was not productive?”
    His facial muscles became more rigid. “Do not mention that woman’s name.”
    “That bad, huh?”
    “I need to return to London and meet with the Council.”
    “Right now?” She leaned back against her door. She was more tired than she’d thought.
    He nodded. “Julie, did your mother explain bonding?”
    “No. That didn’t come up. She had a lot of other explaining to do.”
    “This is important. The Dancers and Walkers who commit to each other usually get married, just like most humans. A very few, however,