Anathema (Causal Enchantment #1)(4)



Those cool, pale eyes studied me silently, revealing nothing.

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s a stupid idea.” I bit down on my thumbnail.

She ignored that. “Yes, I believe I can find something for you here. Can you start tomorrow night at six?”

“Seriously?” I exclaimed, unable to hide my shock.

She nodded, once.

As I glanced around the place, a thrill stirred in my stomach. What would I be doing? I didn’t care. “Okay. Yes. Thank you.” I made a mental note to call the shelter to let them know I wouldn’t be coming in for the next few … years.

“Wonderful.” Sofie rose and walked over to the counter. She grabbed a pen from behind the counter and scrawled something on a sheet of paper, then returned and handed it to me. “Please fill this out. I’ve marked your starting pay at the top.” I saw the slightest smile touch Sofie’s plump lips—the first one that night. “Some say I pay too well.”

I looked down at the elegant writing at the top of the job application, and gasped.

My watch read ten minutes to six when I pushed through the heavy wooden door of Newt’s Brew the next evening, my nerves performing a full circus production in the pit of my stomach. I’d sat up in bed most of the previous night, replaying the inexplicable evening in my head countless times. Half of me was sick to my stomach knowing I wouldn’t be registering for college before my fiftieth birthday, given the debt I had so clumsily acquired. But the other half wondered how I had managed to go from landing my first job in a trendy cafe to a salary that could only be described as ridiculous.

Newt’s Brew was empty. Not one customer idled with a cup of coffee. No buzz of conversation in the air. Maybe it was still early, I decided. Sofie stood behind the counter, her back to me, intent on something in her hands. “Hi Sofie!” I called in a bubbly voice.

“Good evening, Evangeline,” she responded without turning, with that same reserved air I was coming to recognize as a usual aspect of her personality.

My chest tightened. What if she regrets hiring me? “Tell me what I can do,” I urged, sprinting around the counter to face Sofie. Clad in a provocative, knee–length indigo–blue dress that accentuated her waspish hourglass figure, she was opening a trash bag. I tugged self–consciously on the bottom of my shirt. After spending the entire day in front of my closet, fussing over my mediocre wardrobe, I had finally settled on my nicest pair of dark blue jeans and a gray and black striped shirt, certain that I would still look like a hobo off the street next to the worst–dressed customer in this place.

“These all need to go,” she said, waving a hand dismissively at the display of desserts.

I picked up a silver platter and sniffed a slice of apple pie. It smelled fine.

“Help yourself, if you’re hungry,” she offered, bending to tuck the bag into the trash can.

“Are you getting a new batch in?”

She shook her head. “I have to close Newt’s. I have some unfinished business in New York.”

Close? My smile faltered. “Oh … For how long?”

“A few weeks, at least. Maybe more.”

My smile fell completely. “Well … is there anything I can do to help? I have ten thousand dollars’ worth of hours to put in for you, don’t forget.” A small, uncomfortable giggle escaped me. I’d happily forget that part.

“This place is pretty much ready for closing,” Sofie answered, moving to the sink to rinse her hands.

“Okay. Well, I’ll be here when you get back, I guess.”

We spent the next minutes in awkward silence as I scraped chocolate sauce off a plate, feeling as if an internal bubble had just been popped. Why am I so disappointed? So I’ll have to wait a few weeks to begin paying off my gigantic debt. So what?

Because it wasn’t just about the money, I realized. I wanted to work here—to meet new people, to talk to them, to have them actually respond to me. To befriend Sofie … I stole a glance toward her back. She’s so interesting. So cool.

“Unless you want to come with me to New York?” Sofie asked suddenly, turning to meet my gaze.

The plate slipped from my hands and clattered noisily against the tile floor. I felt my eyes bulging. Go to New York City with her?

“You don’t have to. I could use your help, though,” she added.

“I … I don’t—” I stammered, my heart beginning to race. Me in New York? I had never been beyond Portland’s suburbs.

“You wouldn’t have to worry about accommodations or meals.” Sofie leaned down to pick the plate up off the floor.

“It’s a wonderful offer, Sofie,” I began, picturing myself surrounded by skyscrapers and the bustling city life. My stomach spasmed with excitement. This is crazy—isn’t it? Would a sane person say yes to this? I barely know the woman! Granted, I had smashed her property and she in turn had graciously invited me in for cocoa and a high–paying job—hardly the signs of a serial killer. And this was a job, after all. People traveled all the time for jobs, I rationalized.

“Consider your debt to me squared away after this trip,” she added. “You’ll have earned it.”

My jaw dropped, and my shoulders lifted as if relieved of an oppressive weight—and they had been. I won’t owe her anything? But … that means she won’t be obligated to have me work here. I bit my lip, glancing around the empty café with a twinge of regret.

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