The Ex Hex (Ex Hex #1)(8)

Home.

Once she’d parked behind Elaine’s ancient Volvo, Vivi jogged up the front steps, past the grinning pumpkins and dangling bats and little lights in the shape of purple witches.

Aunt Elaine always went all-in for Halloween.

Just inside, Vivi stopped to pet Sir Purrcival where he was curled up in his basket. He was massive now, a hulking mass of black fur and green eyes who adored Gwyn and tolerated Elaine and Vivi, and she considered herself lucky when he only took the laziest of swats at her hand before settling back into sleep.

“I know, I’m late again!” Vivi called out as she gave him one last pet.

Elaine drifted into the hallway, her ash-blond hair piled messily on top of her head, her black skirts brushing the floor.

If Stevie Nicks taught middle school art was the way Gwyn always described her mother’s look, and that was not far off. But it worked on Aunt Elaine in a way Vivi never could’ve pulled off. She’d stick to her floral prints and polka dots.

“You know,” Aunt Elaine said, placing a beringed hand on her hip, “if you’d just come to work for me, you would be around all the time and never have to worry about being late.”

An old argument, and one that, as usual, Vivi waved off. “You two do fine without me.”

Something Wicked sold various witchy things, from candles to scarves to soap, with the occasional homemade jam thrown in. Business always picked up this time of year, thanks to Founder’s Day, but it wasn’t unusual for them to go days without a single sale, so Elaine and Gwyn could easily run the place by themselves.

“We might do even better with you, though,” Elaine said as Vivi moved down the hallway and into the kitchen.

Of all the rooms in the house, this one always felt the most witchy. Copper pots hanging from hooks on the ceiling, little pots of herbs all along the windowsill, Elaine’s candle-making supplies cluttered on the table.

The effect was only slightly spoiled by Gwyn standing by the stove, wearing a T-shirt that said, Witch Don’t Kill My Vibe, and eating macaroni and cheese out of the pot.

“Business has picked up so much in the last few years,” Elaine went on, languidly moving back toward the table. “Gwyn can barely keep up with the online orders.”

Gwyn nodded, her messy bun of red hair nearly coming undone. “Everyone’s a witch these days,” she said, mouth full. “We sold, like, a hundred sets of tarot cards last month alone.”

Vivi raised her eyebrows as she went to the fridge to grab a bottle of wine. “Jeez, seriously?” Her aunt’s business had always been more of a hobby than an actual moneymaker, but Elaine had refused to get anything resembling a real job, and Gwyn wasn’t all that inclined to join the workforce, either.

“Self-care and all that,” she said now, placing the pot back on the stove and crossing one foot over the other. Glancing down, Vivi could see she was wearing the bright-green-and-black-striped socks that were perpetual bestsellers at Something Wicked.

“Tarot cards, crystals, candles, grimoires . . .” Gwyn ticked the items off on her fingers. “We can barely keep things in stock. I’m going to have to hire someone just to handle the online store. You could totally do that.”

“I like my job,” Vivi insisted, and the truth was, she did. Sure, there were the occasional Lacrosse Cheaters, but she could more than handle them, and she loved going to work on Penhaven’s campus. She loved going to the big cafeteria for lunch, loved her office with its comfy chairs. Loved sharing her own love of history with her students. All in all, it was a good fit, and it made her feel . . . stable. Safe.

Two of Vivi’s favorite words.

As Vivi opened the wine, Gwyn’s phone buzzed, and she sighed.

“I swear to the goddess, if this is another text about Founder’s Day shit, I am going to go full Carrie on this town.”

“The mayor,” Elaine said to Vivi in a stage whisper. “She keeps texting Gwyn about Founder’s Day because she has a crush on her and this is her way of getting Gwyn to pay attention to her.”

“A solid move,” Vivi allowed, pouring herself some wine, and Gwyn rolled her eyes.

“I’ve already slept with her, Mom, it’s not that.”

“Also a solid move.” Vivi lifted her glass and, distracted, Gwyn clinked her own against it.

“No, she’s just freaking out because it’s her first Founder’s Day as mayor and she wants everything to go well,” Gwyn said, her fingers moving rapidly over the phone, “and she’s a normal human, not a witch, so you can see where these kinds of things stress her out.”

“Does she know you’re a witch?” Vivi asked, and Gwyn blew a raspberry.

“God, no. That is privileged information one only gets after the fourth date.”

“You never go on a fourth date, darling,” Elaine said, lining up her candles on the table.

“Exactly,” Gwyn said with a wink.

She went to put her phone back in her pocket only to have it buzz again, and she groaned. “Jane, honestly, you’re hot, but the sex was not good enough to warrant—oh, shit.”

“What?” Vivi and Elaine asked in unison as Gwyn stared at her phone, her eyes wide.

“Um. Nothing. Nothing at all. She sent me a nude. I’m shocked and scandalized. By the nude.”