Page 5 of A Charming Touch of Tarot (The Gin & Tarot Club #2)

5

The Magician

It’s Thursday night and the first meeting of the Gin and Tarot Club since before the holidays. Lanie barrels into the kitchen with her arms full of poster boards, her oversize knockoff purse hanging off her shoulder, brimming with additional supplies from the looks of it.

She drops the boards haphazardly over the dining room table, and I lift an eyebrow, staring at the blank white cardboard inquiringly.

“What’s with those?” I ask, curious about what Lanie has planned for this evening.

We haven’t discussed the specifics for tonight. The only instructions I got were that it would be held here at eight o’clock, and that it was my job to ensure there were plenty of snacks and booze.

Which is not typical for our traditional girls’ night. Lanie and Nina both are sticklers for having something on the books. Whether it be a reservation or an organized night in, there’s usually more planning involved. Things have changed since my abilities presented.

The Gin and Tarot Club was briefly explained as a way for our group to work together, using our unique skills to solve crimes. However, it isn’t a true club, in Lanie’s opinion, if we aren’t sipping—or guzzling—our official club alcohol, gin. A liquor that I only drink on Thursday nights.

“It’s our craft for tonight,” she explains, not bothering to look at me. She goes about sifting through her bag while simultaneously attempting to move her sweater back into position on her shoulder.

I snort because Lanie is not the arts-and-crafts kind of girl.

“So now we’re doing crafts? This is an interesting development.”

She bobs her head. “A very important craft, considering the new year is upon us.”

Good grief. Lanie is slipping right into her woo-woo tone, which means things are about to get interesting tonight.

“What is this craft that’s so important?” I ask, leaning back against the kitchen island. “I mean…more important than solving crimes and saving lives?”

Lanie huffs, rolling her eyes into the back of her head. “Vision boards, Alyssa. We’re manifesting our best year.”

I suck on my teeth, thinking through all that I know about that sort of thing. Many people do vision boards, and I’ve never understood the craze behind them. What’s the point in taking time to glue pictures of things you want but don’t have onto a board that you’ll throw into a closet and never look at?

“Vision boards are an essential practice for manifestation,” Lanie says, looking up at me. “Now that you have an awakened ability, you should be able to manifest easily.”

“That sounds like…fun?”

“It is, and it’s also an extremely important practice,” she says, searching through a pouch of markers for who knows what. “One that I want to share with my best friends.”

I smile at her because it’s rare that she’s even remotely sentimental. Whether I believe or understand the purpose of vision boards, I’ll happily partake in this activity to humor my best friend. Based on the copious amount of supplies she’s carrying around, she’s put some thought into this.

“Okay, so aside from the boards, what else do we need?”

She waves her hand in the air. “All taken care of. Corinne’s bringing the expired magazines from the spa over, and I have markers and glue guns in my bag.” She rifles through her large tote, presumably searching for the supplies. “You just concentrate on the snacks and keeping the booze flowing.”

“So it’s gonna be one of those nights?”

“It’s Thursday,” she deadpans. “Girls’ night is always one of those nights.”

She would not be wrong. The whole point of Thursday is to get together and put our shit week behind us. Which almost always includes a few drinks.

For the next twenty minutes, I gather the food and set it up in the great room as she creates workstations for each of us. A board, thick black marker, and pair of scissors is placed at each spot on the floor. The glue guns are set up in the kitchen.

“I’m very impressed, Lanie. You’ve really gone all out with this,” I say, looking around at her setup.

She shrugs. “This practice is important to me. Believe it or not, this will be my fifth board, and every year I receive more of the things I’ve added.”

I’m about to pry into the things she’s received when Corinne saunters into the room carrying a stack of magazines.

“Can you put those in there?” Lanie says, pointing to the great room where the boards and supplies have been set up.

“Hello to you too, Lanie,” Corinne grates, moving right past us, heading straight for the great room.

We watch from the kitchen as she tosses the magazines into the center of the makeshift circle of stations. They scatter everywhere, but she doesn’t bother to straighten them. She’s too busy checking out the setup.

“You’re looking fancy today, Cori,” Lanie says, eyeing her up and down.

Corinne has clearly come straight from the spa. She’s wearing her signature black slacks and white blouse with trumpet sleeves.

“I’m changing,” she says, heading straight toward the bathroom, still not bothering with greetings.

Not that we were any better.

Nina is the last to arrive, fashionably late, which is not her MO. She’s carrying a tray of cookies in the shape of clocks. I lift an eyebrow, and she shakes her head, looking exasperated.

“Lanie,” she explains, tilting her head down at the cookie platter. “I was tasked with bringing New Year–inspired cookies.”

I chuckle, looking between the plate and Nina. “Clocks?”

She shrugs. “They represent the countdown. What else signifies New Year’s?”

“You’ve got me there.” I tap my chin. “The only thing that comes to mind for me is champagne.”

Her mouth drops open. “Good one. I should’ve done that.”

I wave a hand in the air. “I think your clocks are cute.”

“And very thoughtful,” Lanie says, making her way toward Nina.

I grab the tray of cookies and place it on the counter as Lanie envelops Nina in a hug that has me questioning if something has happened and I missed the memo.

“I’m so glad to see you,” Lanie says, taking a step back to give Nina her personal space.

Nina takes a cleansing breath. “I can’t tell you how badly I needed this night.”

Lanie claps her hands together. “Should we get started?”

Lanie, Nina, Corinne, and I make our way to our stations, sitting in a circle on my great room floor.

“I call to order this meeting of the Gin and Tarot Club,” Lanie calls out, in a tone that sounds a lot like Madame Corinne.

I have to refrain from making a face at Lanie, not that she’d see it. She’s too focused on her notepad, which brings a host of questions.

“Tonight, we will be working on our New Year vision boards, but before we dive into that, I want to make it clear that there’s a process to this.” Lanie looks up, meeting each of our eyes.

I bite my top lip, glancing at Nina, who appears more than a little amused.

“The art of vision boards is not simply picking out a bunch of lavish things and throwing them on a board with no thought. That’s not how you manifest.”

“Isn’t it?” Corinne says, and Lanie glowers at her.

“Corinne, you should know better,” she chastises, earning an eye roll. “I can assure you, if you follow my method, by next year, you’ll be married and well on your way to children.”

Corinne practically chokes, face twisted up in horror, while Lanie tries very hard to refrain from bursting into laughter.

“You…are evil,” Corinne snaps. “I don’t want to be married, and I most definitely never want children.” She points a finger at Lanie. “Don’t you dare put that kind of juju on me.”

Lanie tosses her dark hair back over her shoulder, wholly ignoring Corinne.

“Whatever you ladies want, you’ll have,” she says to Nina and me.

“How exactly do we do it? The manifesting,” Nina asks, getting us back on target, and currently seeming rather into the notion.

Lanie cracks her neck and then her fingers. “I want you to think about four categories that really speak to you. They can be anything from wealth, health, career, family, friends, etcetera, but narrow it down to four.” She lifts a hand with four fingers raised as if she’s teaching a bunch of kindergartners.

Next, she holds up her board to display that she’s already gotten started. There’s a large eye drawn in the middle, separating the top of a tree from the trunk and roots. The roots extending from the trunk and branches full of leaves extend from every side at the top. Lines protrude from the symbol in the center to create four separate sections to the board.

She has one labeled health , another labeled prosperity , one labeled career , and the last section is love .

“This is how you will set up your board. In order to determine your four keystones, I want you to each take a different room of the house. Find a quiet spot. Get comfortable and meditate on it. The first four that come to mind are the four you’re going to concentrate on.”

“What were those categories again?” Nina asks, and Lanie purses her lips.

“There aren’t particular categories. You just choose areas of your life you’d like to grow.” She turns back to the whole group. “While you’re in your quiet spot, set your board up as I have, and then we will all return back here. You have ten minutes to complete this first task,” she says, effectively dismissing us.

I look around at the room to find Corinne already on her feet, grabbing a marker from the middle and carrying her board underneath her arms, heading out of the family room.

I shrug my shoulders at Nina. “I guess we have ten minutes.”

She grins and grabs her supplies.

“You can come with me. I don’t need a quiet space. I already know my four,” I say, making my way toward my office.

“Me too,” Nina echoes, following on my heels.

We sit cross-legged on the floor, putting our boards in front of us, getting to work. We divide our boards into four sections, but leave space in the middle for a symbol. I choose career, self-care, love, and prosperity as my pillars, already compiling a list in my head of the things I want out of each of the four.

“Good ones,” Nina says, and that’s when I notice she’s just staring at a mostly blank board. She’s created her sections but hasn’t put a single pillar down.

“I thought you said you knew what you wanted to do.”

She lowers her head, hands twisting around each other. “If I’m being honest, I was just going to copy Lanie’s.” She shakes her head. “Then I realized she chose love as one of hers, and I don’t want love. That’s not in the cards for me.”

I grab Nina’s hand, holding it on my lap.

“I’m not going to say that you’ll be ready for love this year. Not after everything you’ve been through, but don’t close yourself off, Nins. You deserve happiness. Whatever that looks like for you.” She offers a tight-lipped smile. “Don’t think about this so hard. Just listen to your gut. Whatever it tells you to do, just do it.” I’m regurgitating Lanie’s instructions, but it appears to work.

Nina swallows and nods her head before picking up her marker. I watch as she labels her own board. She writes personal development , travel , spirituality , and then she glances over at me.

“Do you mind if I steal one of yours?”

I shake my head. “Go for it.”

She finishes her board with self-care.

I smile wide at my friend. “Those are great, Nina. Lanie is going to be so proud.”

She smirks. “I’m doing this for me.”

I lift my hand in the air as if I’m holding a cup. “Cheers, my friend.”

“I think we should go get the real thing. What about you?”

While I’m not a huge fan of gin, I think I’m going to appreciate it tonight.

“One hundred percent.”

We make our way to the kitchen to find that Lanie and Corinne are in there, grabbing themselves a snack and a drink.

“Looks like you guys had the same idea as us,” I say, motioning toward their glasses.

Lanie takes a bite of a carrot, but it doesn’t stop her from talking as she chews. Which is not unlike her at all.

“I find that having a drink while meditating works really well for me.”

“Last I checked, having a drink while doing anything works really well for you,” Corinne teases.

Lanie shrugs. “That too. I’m in my salty dog era.”

“Oh? What’s that?” Nina asks.

Lanie walks her through the gin-inspired drink, which admittedly sounds delicious.

“I brought all the garnishes.” She points toward the grapefruit juice and salt. “Use the dry gin,” she says, as if either of us knows the damn difference.

I bought a few variations, but I put no thought into why I chose the bottles I did.

Lanie ends up making Nina’s while I stick to what’s familiar. Tanqueray and tonic to start, and perhaps I’ll try the salty dog next. We head back toward the family room, all eager to get to work on our boards.

I have to admit, I’m more excited than I first thought I’d be. The whole idea was a perfect way to get our minds off all the negative and onto more hopeful things.

“Don’t get too comfortable in there. We have to break out again,” Lanie calls to my back.

When she comes into the room, she hands us each a small journal that she pulled from her oversize bag.

“The next step for you is to sit with these four pillars and journal what each means to you. If you chose career, what does that perfect career look like? Think about how you’ll feel when you have that career.”

I think about what she’s saying, envisioning a room set up with whiteboards filled with suspect profiles. Something akin to what I’ve seen on television. It fills me with excitement and an edge of danger. A different form of butterflies fills my stomach. A rush of adrenaline that makes me excited for the future.

“Write down what feeling is attached to each of the pillars.” Her hands rise and curl into balls as she gets into her role. “Really dive deep into why it’s important to you. Why will it bring you joy this year?”

So far, this assignment is easy. No journaling required. I feel like I’ve been mapping out my next twelve months for weeks.

“When you feel really connected to what you’ve written for all four categories, then you’ll be ready to come back and start searching for images that correlate with each of the pillars.”

I try imagining what sort of image I can find within the pages of the magazines that would represent my career, but Lanie cuts off that thought, adding more.

“Find images that speak to that feeling that you’ve associated with every one of the pillars. When you find it, cut it out, and tack it to your board.”

“I thought you brought glue guns,” I say.

Lanie’s eyes cross. “I did, and you will eventually glue them all on. This is the process. You’re creating your board and ensuring you have it set up in the way that makes you most happy.” She stares at me. “ Before you make it permanent.”

Not too long ago, Lanie’s condescending attitude would’ve thrown me. These days, I find it funny. It’s just who she is. Dramatic and over the top. She doesn’t mean anything by it. She’s sarcastic and dry, the complete opposite of me, and it brings a flair to our friendship.

“If there’s a word in the magazine that fits your themes, cut that out too, and tack it on the board.”

“Can you give us an example?” Nina asks, grinning over at me.

Lanie is so into playing teacher that she doesn’t realize Nina is only messing with her. She dives right in with examples.

“One of the things that I find to be very important with all manifestation is gratefulness. Make sure that you either write or place the words thank you or gratitude or whatever word or phrase represents your gratefulness to the universe. It will make a huge difference for your manifestation.”

“Why?” I ask not to be combative, but because I’m truly curious as to Lanie’s practice. She’s shown in a matter of an hour that this is serious for her.

“I think it’s important for the universe to know that you’re already grateful for these things, even though they haven’t occurred yet. For your manifestation to work, you have to have an abundant mindset. Don’t go into this board thinking, Oh, how great would my life be if I had these ; go into it saying, My life is amazing because I have these things .”

“But I don’t have these things.” The words fly out, and I can’t take them back, which is a shame because it’s clear within a fraction of a second that Lanie is about to throttle me.

Lanie sucks on her teeth, glaring straight at me. “What’s the deal, Ally? Are you trying to ruin your manifestation before you’ve even begun?”

I splutter. “I don’t have a deal. I’m just truly trying to understand. I want to do this right.”

She sighs. “It’s just my practice. I find that when you’re grateful, and when you live your life like those things are already yours, the universe provides.”

“No matter what, you have to believe you deserve them,” Corinne jumps in. “Believe, and they will be yours.”

Lanie bobs her head. “The universe feeds on positivity. When you go into things with a lack mentality, they feed off that too. Believe it, receive it. Doubt it…” She scrunches her nose. “I can’t come up with anything that rhymes with doubt, but you hear what I’m saying. It will not be yours if you doubt.”

I nod my head, following her. “Got it. Believe and achieve. Doubt and drought.”

“Yes,” Lanie praises, clapping. “That’s the spirit.”

“Take as much time as you guys need with this. It’s the most important step,” Lanie sings.

I turn to Nina. “Go ahead and take my office. I’m gonna head upstairs and do this in my room.”

She tilts her head. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. I’m more comfortable there, and it sounds like that’ll be important for journaling.” I smirk, and she smiles, shaking her head.

“Good luck,” she says, making her way to my office.

I head up to my bedroom, taking a seat on my new chaise longue chair I have positioned by the window. I open the journal, writing my first pillar at the top.

Career.

I take a deep breath and begin journaling whatever comes to me as I consider what I want out of my career. Then I concentrate on how that would make me feel. I continue with each pillar: self-care, love, and ending with prosperity. By the time I’m finished, I feel lighter. Motivated.

Glancing at the clock, I see that over an hour and a half has gone by. I flip through the pages of my journal and my breath hitches. I swipe through page after page to find paragraphs that have one phrase repeated.

Stop him.