Free Witches in Flight by Debora Geary Page B

about
him—just a calm and infinite patience that had drawn her in.
    He was the kind of utterly unsuitable man her mother had always
warned her about.  
    Elsie grinned and rolled out of bed.   She refused to blame the late-night activities of a grown
woman on her mother, and dancing to the sounds of old-time jazz with a sexy man
was probably tame by most people’s standards.
    Then again, maybe not.   Anton wasn’t tame, even with his patient eyes and warm hands.   No man who loved the fluid passion that
was jazz could possibly be tame.
    The knowledge that she’d spent several hours with a man who
would have scared her silly just weeks ago made Elsie’s heart tap out a beat of
morning joy.   She was
changing.   Growing.   A much different woman than she’d
been—and now it was more than just sandboxes and sparkly bicycles.
    Finding her inner child was all well and good—but Elsie
Giannotto also needed an inner woman.   Anton was one big step in the direction of finding her.
    Elsie stretched her arms overhead, delighted with herself and
the early-morning sun that had called her to waking.   It was going to be a glorious day.
    “Do you have to be so freaking happy this early in the
morning?   It’s illegal to be happy
the morning after a bender, anyhow.”   Lizard stumbled past the open bedroom door, muttering something about
coffee.  
    Coffee sounded appealing.   Elsie grabbed her new silky red robe off a chair and followed her
roommate down the hall.   “Ginia’s
concoction worked very nicely.   And
Anton promised me the drink wasn’t all that strong—just enough to give me
a nice buzz.”
    Lizard snorted.   “You were totally sloshed last night.   If that was just one drink, it was a mean one.”
    Hardly.   She was
simply inexperienced with hard alcohol.   And it had been a warm night, long after dinner.   Elsie shrugged her shoulders, trying to
toss off her suddenly defensive mood.   It was hardly her fault she didn’t have a raging headache after a night
out.   Maybe Lizard was just having
a rough start to her day.   “Can I
make you some breakfast?   I got
free-range eggs at the market yesterday, and Caro dropped off some rolls.   Fried-egg sandwiches?”   They were one of her better
breakfasts—she’d bribed the man at the diner for a lesson.
    Lizard thumped onto a stool at the counter.   “‘Kay.   There are some tomatoes in the fridge somewhere—Ginia
sent them along with the green goo.”
    Elsie grinned.   It
wasn’t long ago that her roommate would have avoided anything resembling vegetables
along with her grease.   Maybe they
were both growing up a little.
    ~ ~ ~
    Lauren watched as her efficient assistant got everything ready
for her first official client meeting as lead realtor.   Josh had been an accident—this
time, Lauren was putting Lizard in charge on purpose.
    And taking a cue from an old mentor, she’d picked a doozy of a
client.   She’d never actually met
the Jamesons, but reading between the lines of their introductory email, they
were going to be a large pain in the ass.   A huge laundry list of needs, an unreasonable budget, and the belief
that realtors were magicians.
    If Lizard could handle the Jamesons, she could handle anything—and
Lauren intended to prove it.   Even
if it meant dropping an obnoxious client on her intern the day after a
late-night witch SOS.   Not part of
the plan, but in Witch Central, you learned to roll with the inconvenient.
    When Claire Jameson walked in the front door, Lauren knew she’d
picked right.   The woman was
dressed in a stern gray suit in the middle of August and had a mind like a
steamroller.   Her husband was
irrelevant—both of their minds said so.
    Claire marched over to Lauren and held out her hand.   “Hello.   You must be Lauren McCready.   We’re pleased to bring you our business—you come
highly recommended.”
    Time to deliver a round-one punch.   “As I said in my email, my time is