Bewitching You

chapter Four



A day of job-hunting was ahead of Sofia. Only problem was she couldn’t seem to force her eyes open. Heck, she didn’t feel like getting out of bed, period. In fact, if sleep could guarantee she’d dream of Gray, the nice Gray, and not about dead people she couldn’t save, then she would never open her eyes again.

“Get it together, girl,” she mumbled to herself, while slipping out of bed and into her slippers.

Life doesn’t happen with your eyes closed was one of mother’s favorite sayings. But her mother had no idea just how much happened in Sofia’s premonitions.

Love experienced for the first time, eyes closed or not, was so much better than anything she’d ever encountered. Life be damned if it couldn’t catch up…and quick.

Her stomach grumbled, reminding her she hadn’t eaten since lunch at Nana’s house yesterday. Maybe a good breakfast would cheer her up and take her mind off of her whole good Gray/evil Gray situation.

“Yeah, right. Like that’s going to happen,” she said while walking down the staircase.

“Are you talking to yourself again?” Her mother stood at the kitchen doorway with a sweet smile on her face. Her tall thin frame leaned against the doorjamb as she held a bagel in one hand—gluten-free, of course—and a glass of orange juice—undoubtedly organic—in the other hand. Her long, curly blonde hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail.

A classic beauty, Sofia had to admit. Natural. Hardly a dab of makeup and the woman still beamed with radiance. What was worse, the morning sun shone on her from the window, making her look like an angel, which was somewhat paradoxical, considering how her mother behaved on a daily basis. Not that she was evil, just a bit ornery, that was all.

Sofia smiled back. “Of course. It’s the best conversation I’ve had all year.”

“That’s my girl,” Laura said, and disappeared into the kitchen.

Sofia followed. She was hungry, after all, and what better time to talk about Mr. Lawrence’s latest issue?

Her mother sat at the table-for-two next to the bay window. She seemed in deep thought as she nibbled on her bagel and drank her juice.

Sofia grabbed a cup of coffee and poured a couple scoops of her mother’s fake sugar in, stirred it, and took a long, slurpy sip. Mmmm. Boy, did it hit the spot.

Now to find something decent for breakfast in this soy abundant, high fiber, low fat kitchen...

She opened the fridge and was overjoyed to see the pizza box from the other night still stuffed on the very bottom shelf, way back, where she’d left it. One piece of veggie pizza, extra cheese with jalapenos, sat inside. Yum!

She grabbed the piece and sat at the table, ignoring the way her mother eyed her choice of breakfast.

Living with her mother at the age of twenty-four wasn’t something she was proud of. Nor was it something she planned to do for much longer. It was just… Her mom needed her. Sofia had found that out the hard way when she’d been admitted into a prestigious art school in New York after high school. Her freedom had lasted a year before she received a call from her crying mother, deeply depressed and heartbroken over a devastating breakup. The relationship had lasted two years, and he’d been the first man Laura had let into her life since Sofia’s dad left.

She’d never heard her mom sound so hopeless, rejected again for something she couldn’t control. Her psychic abilities were a part of her, and if men couldn’t get that, she didn’t want any part of them.

Long story short, Sofia left school to look after her mom. No matter the tough façade Laura Good tried to portray, Sofia knew how important it had been to help her through that break-up.

There hadn’t been another man since, and Sofia hadn’t had the heart to move out. What could you do? She missed school and being with people her own age who shared the same interests. But…her mom was more important.

“How old is that pizza?”

“A couple days. It’s still good.” Sofia picked at a jalapeno and changed the subject. “Herbert wants you to knock it off. Again.”

Her mother smirked. “What the hell did I do this time to anger the uptight ass?”

Sofia caught herself rolling her eyes and stopped. It was a bad habit she’d been trying to break.

“I swear, that man doesn’t like anything I do. Is this not my house to do with what I want?”

“It’s yours, Mom.” No point in pushing the subject. She’d relayed Herbert’s message and now it was time to duck out before her mother got any angrier. For what reason, Sofia didn’t know. With anyone other than Herbert Lawrence, she was a reasonable woman...for the most part.

Laura dropped her half-eaten bagel on her plate and blew out a breath. “You look tired.”

“Kind of am.” Sofia swallowed the bite of stale pizza crust she’d been chewing on. “Had another dream about that airplane again.”

“With all the dead people?”

“Yep, and I don’t have a clue what to do about it. It’s not giving me much to work with.”

“Well, you’re not God, Sofia. You know that.”

“Yes, I know, but if I can find out what the airline and flight number are, then I can do something to keep it from going up in the air.” Sofia’s shoulders tightened and burned, so she stretched her neck to release some of the tension. Tension she hadn’t realized she’d been holding in, but what did she expect?

She dreamed about dead people night after night and now she’d lost her job.

And Gray, the only man she’d ever envisioned loving, was an arrogant jerk.

“You worry too much.” Laura frowned. “You can’t save the world and yourself at the same time.”

“Well, I can try at least.” Sofia set the pizza down, not quite as hungry anymore.

“What about that man you’ve been dreaming about?” Her mother grinned but avoided eye contact, a telltale sign that Nana had told her about Gray. Great. In less than twenty-four hours the news had already spread.

“I met him last night at the restaurant. He’s engaged to be married to someone else.”

“And?”

“And he’s kind of mean.” Sofia didn’t want to get her mother riled. Men were the enemy as far as Laura Good was concerned.

“Well, of course. Testosterone can do that to a person, but was he good looking?”

Sofia stared at her mother, shocked. “Uh, yeah, you could say that.”

“Then go get him.”

“What?”

“Sweetheart.” Her mother grabbed for Sofia’s hand across the table. “You’re a twenty-four-year-old virgin.” She whispered the last part as if it were some sort of crime.

“You don’t know that.”

Her brow rose. “Really. If this man from your dreams is the only man you’ll ever feel comfortable giving yourself to, then for God’s sake, go rape him if you have to.”

“Mom. Just stop.” Sofia pulled her hand away. This was not what she’d expected to hear.

“Okay, maybe rape is too strong of a word. Seduce him. You can’t let these dreams rule your future. Why not take charge? Why not use it to your own advantage for once?”

“What if it’s not that easy? What if he doesn’t like me?” Just as the question left Sofia’s mouth, she realized how absurd it was. At some point in the future, Gray would love her. It was only a matter of time.

“How often have your dreams been wrong?”

“They’ve always come true. Every one of them.” Unless she prevented them from happening, like the anticipated murder of the elderly woman a few months back. Sofia was able to give enough information to the police to let them know it was going to happen, anonymously, of course.

Nana had told Sofia about what had happened to their ancestors when their gifts had been discovered. They were deemed witches and then executed. Times had changed, thank goodness, but society still wasn’t quite ready to accept the types of gifts Sofia and her female family members possessed.

“Well, there you go,” her mother said, breaking her thoughts. “Go get yourself laid. But be sure to be back by suppertime. I’m making a new recipe I found in Woman’s Day.” She gave Sofia a quick nod, stood, and put her dish in the sink. “If you need me, I’ll be repainting the side of the house. What do you think of a tree full of plump, juicy purple plums? I heard through the grapevine those are pretty popular in this neighborhood.”

This time Sofia allowed herself a full eye roll. Obviously Herbert Lawrence had some sort of objection to plums.

“What? You think you’re the only artist in the family?”

Before Sofia could argue, her mother was on her way out the front door. The woman wasn’t going to stop until Herbert had a full head of grey hair, but Sofia wasn’t going to concern herself with that today. She had other things to worry about.

Maybe her mom had a point. What would be the harm in hunting her dream man down to speed things up a bit? Well, other than Sofia getting her feelings hurt, big time. How long would he be a jerk? And for what reason?

There’s only one way to find out, Sofe.

Without another thought, she threw away the rest of the pizza, rinsed out her coffee cup and headed to the laptop she shared with her mother. It sat on the large, dark walnut desk in the den, where the readings took place.

She settled into the black leather chair in front of the desk. A cold breeze ran up her spine. Her skin prickled, and she sat paralyzed for a moment. She’d never get used to that feeling—knowing a spirit was in the room with her. Sensing their presence happened quite often, since the ability to conjure up spirits was one of her mother’s gifts. What better place for them to hang out and wait for their turn?

Thank goodness Sofia didn’t have that particular talent. She’d seen enough of the deceased in her sleep.

Warmth returned to her body and the hairs on the back of her neck finally settled, so she continued with the task at hand—finding Gray.

Grayson Phillips, she typed in the search bar and hit enter. A vast list of websites popped up, but the very first one answered her question.

Linden Advertising, it said and underneath it read Grayson Phillips, Creative Department.

“Well, that was easy,” Sofia said, wondering why she hadn’t thought to do this before. “I found you, Mr. Phillips.”

~ * ~

Gray switched on the lights to his office and maneuvered his foam poster boards through the door. All of his work for Bud B’s Burger Restaurant’s new “healthy food line” ad was carefully attached. One week’s work, after Linden had shot down the PowerPoint presentation, saying that’s not how they did things around here.

Linden was as old-school as they came. Gray wondered if the man would even own a computer if he didn’t have to accept incoming email from clients. He also wondered how this place stayed in business if Linden refused to accept change.

Updating the technology was the first thing Gray planned to do once he got his promotion. Until then, he was stuck with these damn poster boards.

One week… That was all the time Linden had given him to find a way to make this crap seem tempting enough to eat.

Lord only knew how it would digest.

As always, Gray found it hard to believe in the product he was trying so hard to make appealing to other people. Just as long as Bud B. likes it enough. Then he knew Linden would have to give him the promotion to Director. Not that that job was any more tolerable, merely a step up the food chain.

If his life had turned out differently, would he even be here? Would he be striving to get a promotion in a career he was growing to loathe?

The answer was irrelevant. In a perfect world, Gray would be on a boat with Hayes, sailing along the California coast. That was what they’d been planning since they were in grade school, and they’d been well on their way to accomplishing it.

With their lifetime savings, Hayes had gotten on an airplane, met with a realtor, and with Gray’s approval, purchased a two-bedroom loft in the San Francisco bay area. They’d planned on meeting there to start looking at sailboats…before Hayes died.

The world wasn’t perfect, Gray had found out. It was downright cruel. Now he didn’t want anything to do with that alternate universe, the one where it didn’t hurt to think of a carefree life.

He set the boards gently against the wall to take another look at the finished product. The photos he’d gotten of the so-called guilt-free fast food were horrendous, so he’d taken it upon himself to design a few pictures to go with the whole ad campaign, which would plaster billboards all over Indiana and the rest of the continental United States. Hopefully.

Think positive, Gray. He didn’t simply want this promotion; he needed it.

The door swung open as Gray leaned down to check out a small smudge he hadn’t noticed before, and his colleague—the only competition for the promotion—walked in. Patrick Beaver had slicked back blond hair, a large white-toothed smile, and an impressive collection of pastel colored silk ties. He had a homely, nonthreatening-looking wife who brought in brownies every week and knew how to make small talk with Linden and his homely wife.

Yeah, Patrick Beaver was somewhat of a threat and anything but a friend.

“Phillips,” he said with that idiotic toothy smile, “you ready for the big presentation?”

Gray stood to his full height and jutted out his chin. “Absolutely. Couldn’t be more ready.”

“Excellent.” Beaver gave a nod as he arched his brow. “Is that it?”

“It is.” Gray crossed his arms in front of him, daring him to say anything else.

Beaver yawned excessively and shrugged. “Good luck, then. You’re going to need it. I’ve heard Bud B. isn’t easily impressed.” He winked and shut the door behind him before Gray could respond.

Nice tactic, f*cker. It had worked. Patrick Beaver had successfully made Gray more nervous, if that were possible. He rolled his head from side to side to relieve some tension.

Get it together, Phillips. You can do this.

Just then, the speakerphone beeped and the creative department’s assistant said, “Mr. Phillips, Ms. Rachel Spencer is on line two for you.”

“Thank you, Sandy,” Gray called out. This was odd. Rachel hardly ever called him at home, much less at work. Maybe something was wrong with the wedding planning. Hell, maybe she’d come to her senses and wanted to call it off altogether.

Gray held his breath and pressed the button that lit up line two. He didn’t want to think about the reasons why he was more worried about being late for his presentation than the possible demise of his relationship with his fiancée.

“Rachel?”

“Hi, Grayson,” she said in soft, shaky voice. “I know you have that presentation, but I really need to talk to you.”

“It can’t wait?”

“I’d like to talk about it now, if you don’t mind?” She paused for a moment, probably waiting for Gray to give her his permission to go on, but he remained quiet, waiting to hear what she had to say next.

“Um,” she continued. “I was thinking about Hayes.”

“Hayes?” Gray hadn’t heard his brother’s name from her mouth since before his twin’s funeral, and he sure the hell didn’t want to hear it now, from anyone.

“You called me to talk about Hayes?”

“Yes.” She paused again. “Maybe right now isn’t a good time to talk about this after all.”

“Maybe not.”

“I’m sorry I bothered you at work.”

“No bother, but you know that he’s not exactly my favorite topic of conversation.”

“I know. I’ll see you this evening for dinner?” she asked, her voice still shaky.

“Yes, and be prepared for good news.”

“Can’t wait.”

Gray hung up the phone and leaned on his desk. The clock on the wall said he had less than ten minutes to get to the presentation room and set up. Time to focus. He took another once-over at his boards and carefully picked them up. The speech and slogan he’d prepared rolled through his mind, but didn’t have that punch they had the last time he’d read them.

Oh, f*ck.

“Focus, Gray,” he whispered to himself.

His phone beeped again as he reached for the doorknob. “Mr. Phillips, there’s a Sofia Good here to see you,” Sandy said through the speaker. “She doesn’t have an appointment but she insists it’s important. Would you like me to send her back?”

Gray clenched his eyes shut and tried not to get a mental image of her...all of her.

What the hell did she want from him?