Easy Fortune: A Boudreaux Series Novella

“Lena?”


“Yeah?” My gaze finds his again and he smiles, as if remembering something especially sweet.

“You look fantastic. You’ve hardly changed at all.”

“Oh, I’ve changed.”

He nods. “I suppose we both have. He glances up at the white board and my notes. “I loved that book. I read it earlier this year.”

I blink quickly, surprised. “For the first time?”

“No, I read it every year.” He crosses his arms over his chest and reads the whole board. “I bet I’d pass your test.”

“With your eyes closed,” I agree with a laugh. “I’m lucky if I can get eighty percent of my kids to read it. They’re not bad kids, they just have other things on their minds, especially this time of year.”

“Are Cliffs Notes still a thing?” he wonders.

“Oh yeah,” I reply with a nod. “And they’re online. There are even apps for that.”

“There’s an app for everything.”

I nod and watch his jaw tick as he takes in my face, my hair. He was always excellent at paying attention. He saw me, and that attracted me to him the most of all.

“Think it over,” he says and walks toward me. I stand my ground, proud of myself for not backing up. I have no idea what he’s planning to do, but I’m suddenly caught up in a strong hug. His arms tighten around my back and he holds me close, rocking me back and forth for a moment.

My God, it’s just like I remembered it. How I dreamed of for years afterward. Giant butterflies take flight in my belly, goose bumps stand up on my skin. My arms close around his back, and I hug him back. I can feel the remorse, the grief in him, and I can’t help but offer him a little comfort. I also can’t help but notice how he’s transformed in the past six years. He’s bulkier, maybe even an inch taller.

Finally, he backs away and smiles down at me. He drags his knuckle down my cheek and I can’t stand it anymore. I take a step back, out of his reach. I can’t keep a clear head with him touching me. His hand falls to his side.

“I’m sorry. That was probably out of line.”

“It’s okay,” I reply. “But I can’t promise that I’ll be there on Friday.”

“I understand.” He nods and turns toward the door. “And Lena, if you won’t, or can’t, come, it’s okay. You don’t owe me anything.”

“No.” I nod in agreement. “I don’t.”

He smiles and turns on his heel and walks out the door. I can hear his footsteps as he walks down the empty hallway and I stay still until I can no longer hear him.

I walk over to retrieve his card and sit in the desk it was sitting on. The writing is simple.

Mason Coulter, Ph.D.

(504) 555-9857

And on the back is the attorney’s name and address. Friday at 2:00.

The thing is, I can’t even use the excuse that I have school. Tomorrow is the last day of class, and I’ve already pretty much wrapped things up here. I’ll be done by noon on Friday for the summer.

But I do need to think about this. Sleep on it. Talk about it with Mallory and Gram.

Drink some wine.

Tell my body to calm the hell down because we will not be going there again, no matter what I decide. Mason was a long time ago, and he made it crystal clear that he didn’t want anything from me long ago.

Well, nothing but sex.

And it was pretty spectacular sex at that.

But it messed with me when it was over, and I’m not doing that again. No way.

“He’s not here for that,” I remind myself. He’s here because his aunt dictated it, not because he wanted to seek me out.

I need to remember that.





Chapter Two



Lena

“Are you seriously getting rid of these?” Mallory asks me later in the evening. She’s sitting on my bed, picking through the clothes and shoes that I’ve thrown out of the closet.

I’m cleaning it. Cleaning helps me think.

“I never wear them,” I reply, looking at the pink flowery sandals she’s holding up. “I don’t even know why I bought them.”

“I’m taking them,” she says and sets them in her growing pile.

“You’re welcome to anything out there. It’s all going to the women’s shelter.”

“All of it?” she asks in surprise. “Are you becoming a nudist?”

“No.” I giggle and sit back on my haunches. I’m rummaging through the shoes on the floor of my small closet. “I really need a bigger place.”

“You should just turn your spare bedroom into a closet.”

“Yes, but then I wouldn’t have a spare bedroom.”

“How often do you have visitors?”

I shrug. “Never.”

“There you go.” She pulls a pink blouse out of the pile and holds it up in front of her, checking herself out in the mirror. Mallory and I have been best friends since we were little. She’s a couple of years older than me, but we couldn’t be closer if we were sisters. For a lot of years, we only had each other. Aside from our grandmothers, of course. We’re different, and kids are always afraid of what they don’t understand.

Mallory has psychic gifts, and she is a medium. She’s quite powerful, and fought her own talents for many years.

I lean more toward the witch side of things. Spells and magic are my specialty, and I’m the youngest in a long line of witches. My grandmother raised me, and taught me everything she knows.

Well, she is teaching me. I don’t think I’ll ever know everything she does.

“Can I have this pink top?” Mal asks.

“Yes. If it’s on the bed, you can have it.”

“I think you should bag this all up and set it aside for a few days. You don’t want to have remorse later for getting rid of some of this stuff. It’s expensive.”

“I’m cleaning out the closet,” I insist. “I have a ton of crap.”

She nods and I sit on my butt and turn to face her, watching as she picks through my yoga pants collection. “How are things with Beau?”

She grins and stares down at her engagement and wedding rings. “Good.”

I nod and rest my chin on my knees. “I like him.”

“I know. And it’s a good thing because he’s permanent.”

I laugh. “Yeah, about as permanent as you can get.”

“So, are you going to tell me what’s going on with you?”

“Maybe I just have extra energy because school’s almost out and I’m excited about it.”

“That’s not it.”

“You’re psychic. You tell me.”

“I’m not touching you,” she reminds me patiently. “And you only clean and get testy like this when you’re upset or have something on your mind.”

I wrinkle my nose. “Okay. Do you remember Mason Coulter?”

“The dude you dated right after college? You’re the only person I know who would graduate from college and then go back to college to take a class that had nothing to do with your major.”

I roll my eyes. “It was interesting.”

“Apparently, because you ended up dating the intern.”

“Yeah.” I sigh. “He came to my classroom today.”