Page 11

LINCOLN

T he third technician knocked over the antique vase in the Carpe Diem lobby, and I winced as the crash echoed through my tablet screen. Fifty-seven minutes into this remote installation, and we'd already had two Wi-Fi router mishaps and one crushed rosebush. My kingdom for competent help.

"Mr. Sands, should I—" The technician on screen, a gangly twenty-something named Derek, held up the broken ceramic pieces like evidence at a crime scene.

"Just set it aside. I'll replace it." I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Let's focus on getting the conference room finished before anything else meets an untimely demise."

The camera panned across the B&B's newly renovated east wing. What had once been a dusty storage room now gleamed with hardwood floors, recessed lighting, and half-installed technological marvels that would make most Silicon Valley startups jealous.

"The holographic projector needs to go against the north wall," I directed. "And for the love of all things magical, please use the anti-gravity dollies I sent. That equipment costs more than your annual salary."

A flash of lavender caught my eye on screen. Chloe had arrived, standing in the doorway with her arms crossed, one eyebrow raised in that particular way that made my heart skip. Even through a screen, she had that effect on me.

"Chloe!" I couldn't keep the delight from my voice. "Perfect timing. What do you think?"

"I think half the town is gathered outside wondering if aliens have landed." She stepped into frame, glancing around at the chaos of boxes and equipment. "Mrs. Haggerty is convinced you're installing government surveillance."

"Only the best for my favorite conspiracy theorist." I smiled as Derek awkwardly tried to navigate around Chloe. "I wanted to surprise you."

"Mission accomplished." Her fingers traced the edge of a sleek monitor. "Though I'm not sure what all this is for."

"It's so I can be in two places at once." I leaned closer to my camera. "The board insists I stay in New York, but I refuse to be absent from Assjacket. So I'm creating a fully functional remote office."

Marigold burst into the room behind Chloe, gasping dramatically when she spotted the curved video wall being unpacked.

"Is that a ninety-inch conference display?" She squealed, bouncing on her toes. "Lincoln Sands, you beautiful genius! We can have virtual town meetings! And movie nights! And—" she dropped her voice to a theatrical whisper "—you can see your girlfriend life-sized when you're apart."

Chloe's cheeks flushed that delightful shade of pink I'd grown so fond of.

"There's more," Derek interjected, glancing at his clipboard. "The special delivery is scheduled for?—"

"Later," I cut in quickly, shooting him a warning look. "That part's a surprise."

I watched Chloe's expression shift from curiosity to mild suspicion as Marigold continued to gush about the technology. Something in her lavender eyes darkened slightly—a shadow I'd come to recognize when her mind wandered to less pleasant thoughts.

"Derek, give me a moment with Chloe," I said, and the technician nodded, directing his team to the opposite corner of the room.

"Hey," I said softly, trying to recapture her attention. "What's happening in that beautiful head of yours?"

She blinked, returning to the present. "Nothing. It's just... a lot. Very sudden."

"I know. The board meeting moved faster than expected. They're pushing the relocation timeline, and I needed to act quickly." I ran a hand through my hair, wishing I could reach through the screen and touch her. "I refuse to let this corporate nonsense come between us."

"It's thoughtful," she admitted, her fingers tracing the edge of the desk. "Excessive and probably astronomically expensive, but thoughtful."

"Speaking of excessive..." I checked my watch. "The special delivery should be arriving soon. Promise me you'll stay for it?"

Her mouth quirked up at one corner. "As long as it's not another first edition. My cottage is running out of secure display space."

"Better," I promised. "And completely practical."

"Lincoln Sands and practical in the same sentence? Now I'm worried."

I laughed, the sound echoing through the B&B's speakers. "Just trust me. And maybe clear your schedule for dinner tonight? I've arranged something."

"More surprises?" She arched an eyebrow. "You're turning into quite the mysterious warlock."

"Only for you." I glanced up as my assistant entered my NYC office with a stack of contracts. "I have to go for a bit. Board meeting prep. But I'll see you tonight, even if it's through ninety inches of high-definition display."

"Go run your empire," she said with a small smile. "I'll make sure your minions don't destroy the B&B in the meantime."

As the connection ended, I caught one last glimpse of her face—thoughtful, guarded, and beautiful. Whatever was bothering her, I'd find out tonight. Some things couldn't be fixed with technology, no matter how advanced.

Chloe

I glared at Frosty across our kitchen table, watching him meticulously align his tiny reading glasses while pretending to be absorbed in yesterday's newspaper. The feathered traitor.

"You know something," I said, drumming my fingers against my coffee mug. "Spill it, Featherbutt."

Frosty peered over his glasses with exaggerated innocence. "I know many things. The capital of Azerbaijan. The recipe for perfect biscuits. The fact that you're wearing mismatched socks."

I kicked my feet under the table. "Don't change the subject. The entire town's acting like they swallowed canaries—which, considering your species, is disturbing imagery."

"Perhaps they're simply delighted by technological progress coming to our humble hamlet."

"Right. Because nothing excites magical beings like Wi-Fi upgrades." I narrowed my eyes. "This morning at the diner, DeeDee asked if I'd picked out a dress yet. A dress for what?"

Frosty flipped his newspaper page with elaborate nonchalance.

"And Mrs. Pennyfeather actually winked at me. She's never winked at anything except maybe her cat when she thinks it's possessed."

The memory of the diner crawled under my skin. I'd been minding my business, nursing my coffee in the corner booth, when I caught fragments floating from nearby tables.

"...special permit from the council..."

"...never seen anything like it in Assjacket..."

"...wonder if she knows yet..."

DeeDee had refilled my cup with a smile that bordered on conspiratorial. "More coffee, hon? Gotta keep your strength up for the big events ahead." She'd emphasized "events" like it contained secret code.

My stomach had clenched. The last time the town buzzed with secrets, my sister Jenny had been impersonating me and casting black magic. The memory flashed hot and sharp—Jenny's blonde curls, her purple eyes narrowed with malice, the voodoo doll clutched in her fingers.

"Your face is doing that thing," Frosty observed, interrupting my thoughts.

"What thing?"

"That 'I'm spiraling into catastrophic thinking' thing. Your left eye twitches."

I pressed my fingers against my eyelid. "You'd twitch too if everywhere you went people stopped talking and exchanged meaningful glances. Yesterday, Marigold practically dislocated her neck trying to catch Zelda's attention when I walked into the apothecary."

Frosty sighed dramatically and folded his newspaper. "I am sworn to secrecy."

"By whom?"

"By the sacred code of rooster honor."

I snorted. "That's not a thing."

"It most certainly is. Right after 'wake everyone at ungodly hours' and before 'strut with maximum plumage display.'"

I grabbed my bag and headed for the door.

"Where are you going?" Frosty called after me.

"To find Marigold. She's the weakest link in whatever conspiracy is happening."

"And by 'weakest link' you mean..."

"She can't keep a secret to save her life. Remember when she was supposed to keep quiet about Zelda's surprise birthday party and ended up ordering a cake with 'THIS IS NOT FOR ZELDA'S SURPRISE PARTY' written on it?"

I stormed out before Frosty could mount a defense. The morning air hit my face, crisp and cool against my flushed cheeks. I marched down the path toward Carpe Diem with purpose, mentally rehearsing my interrogation techniques.

The bed and breakfast looked particularly quaint this morning, its windows gleaming in the sunlight. I pushed through the front door to find Marigold arranging flowers at the reception desk, humming what sounded suspiciously like the Wedding March.

"Marigold."

She jumped, sending a spray of baby's breath floating to the floor. "Chloe! What a completely normal and not at all significant surprise to see you here on this ordinary day when nothing special is happening!"

I folded my arms. "Cut the crap. What's going on?"

"Going on? Nothing's going on. Why would something be going on? Do you think something's going on?" Her voice climbed an octave with each question.

"The entire town is acting like they've been collectively body-snatched. I want answers."

Marigold's eyes darted around the empty lobby. She leaned forward, practically vibrating with excitement. "I'm not supposed to say anything, but since you're my friend and I'm terrible at secrets—oh my goddess, the proposal preparations are coming along so beautifully!"

My stomach dropped through the floor. "The what now?"

"The proposal! Lincoln's been coordinating everything from New York. The special delivery yesterday was the ring—a family heirloom, I heard. That's why he needed the secure connection set up. To plan everything remotely!"

I gripped the edge of the desk to steady myself. "Marigold, Lincoln is not proposing to me."

She winked. "Of course he's not. Wink-wink."

"No, I mean he's actually not. We've been dating for five minutes. We're in a long-distance relationship that barely functions."

Marigold's smile faltered. "But the special delivery... and all the secret calls with the town council about permits..."

"Permits for what?"