Witch Is The New Black (Paris, Texas Romance #3)

“How are you gonna wow Ridge in grandma pants and old-lady shoes?”


Her brow furrowed as she put some ointment on her dry lips. “Ridge? Why would I have to worry about wowing him?”

“Because he’s downstairs.”

Bernie froze, her hands going icy. She didn’t know what it was about him that made her feel so damned raw, but it was there and as plain as the nose on her face.

You do know. It’s because he’s so damned good-looking and even in lava-like conditions, he smells like he just got out of the shower.

“Why is he here, Fee?” she moaned before she could stop herself.

“They’re havin’ some kinda barbeque to welcome you. That’s why he’s here.”

A thread of fear laced the pit of her stomach. “But I thought it was just a welcome dinner with the rest of the women here—like a normal ex-con dinner. You know, all of us felons gathered ’round the table, waiting to see who’s going to heist the silverware first?”

“Winnie’s invited everyone to get to know you. Paris is a small southern town, honey. It’s what they do. Bake pies. Make casseroles. Butt into your business. The women here in rehabilitation aren’t hardcore criminals. They didn’t buy plastic sheets and disinfectant for their serial kills. They’ve committed petty crimes and abused their magic. So the people in town like to get to know them and make them feel like they’re a part of the community. In fact, some of the best friendships and working relationships have been forged from the women who came to Winnie and Ben’s.”

Community.

That meant a crowd. God, she hated crowds. Something always went wrong when there was a crowd and she was in the mix. Chandeliers fell on people’s heads. Cakes exploded in unsuspecting faces. Halter dresses untied themselves with magic invisible fingers and fell to the floor, revealing her high school best friend’s breasts to everyone attending prom.

Pulling her hair up into a ponytail, she sucked in some air and sat on the edge of the bed, her stomach in a tight knot as she looked at her now crushed faux Academy Award. She was never going to be able to get through this.

“Can’t do it, Fee.”

“Can so and you will, Bernie. I won’t have you slightin’ these nice people. I raised you better n’ that.”

She gripped the quilt in her fist and squeezed the material. “No…you don’t understand. Things happen when I’m nervous or uncomfortable. Bad things. Like today.”

“Okay, Bernie, enough! You hear me? Enough hiding from whatever you’re hiding from and take charge of this. Take charge now. I will absolutely not be a familiar to a whiner. This ‘I can’t’ attitude’s ruled your life far longer than should have been allowed. But that’s all over now, Miss. We’re through with the pansy-ass portion of this rodeo. We have a real chance here, B. A real chance to learn and grow and make friends with people you need in your pathetic life. Now, get off this bed, march your sweet granny pants downstairs and focus on keeping your cool or I’m going to give you a hemorrhoid the size of a hot-air balloon!”

“Can you really do that?”

“Do what?” he huffed, jumping off the bed and heading for the door.

“Give me a hemorrhoid.”

“I might blow chunks at elementals, but afflictions I got down to a science, Bernie girl. Your anus will weep like a big ol’ willow.”

Fee was right. The key to making this better was to learn how to handle it. But that didn’t make the moving any easier.

Fee moved in menacing circles, herding her like he had when it came time for a support group meeting back in prison. “Get up, Bernie, or prepare to buy Prep H in bulk.”

Her legs were stiff when she rose, but who wanted a hemorrhoid in this heat? “Will you come with?” she asked, hating how shaky her voice sounded.

“As the great Bette Midler once said, just call me the wind beneath your wings. I’ll always go where you go. Always, Bernie.”



Bernie slipped through the crowd of people, smiling at the occasional friendly face, and headed straight into the kitchen, hoping to hide in the pantry until this was over.

“Bernie!” Winnie called, waving her over to a group of people and Ridge.

Shit.

Fee swished his back end up against her legs. “Focus, Bernie. Focus on the situation. Say hello, pleased to meet you, and breathe. You can hear me in your head if you need me, so just listen. Now git ’er done,” he whispered up at her.

She made her way past some of the seniors she recognized from this morning, who waved and patted her on the arm encouragingly, and smiled at Winnie, keeping her eyes locked on her face for all she was worth. “Evening,” she murmured to them.