Page 2 of Bewitched & Bewildered (Witches of Starbrook #1)

Chapter 2

Juniper

“I have closing duties.” I point my thumb at the door. “Do you mind if I…?”

Even though I just arrived at the office, I’m already looking for an escape. It’s more about avoiding the inevitable.

“Yes,” Denise says, “I mind.”

“Right. Sorry.”

My manager, Denise, is a witch, too. Sometimes, I think that’s why she hired me. It’s the only thing we have in common. She’s a tall, older woman who loves sports and beer. I’m a shorter, ample woman who enjoys wine and nights alone.

We’re both witches, but we’re incomparable.

She hired me quickly, and I agreed to the job too fast. I’ve had serving jobs before, and I hated them all. I didn’t pretend otherwise. This was always supposed to be a stepping stone to learning the art of mixology.

A year at Ace flew by.

By the time she’s available to talk, it’s already two o’clock in the morning. My slipup was tiny. Who among us doesn’t snap at a customer or two?

The bar is peaceful now, with only a few of my coworkers lingering around to clean up.

“Sit down.” Denise gestures to the chair before her. There are only two seats in the tiny, cramped space.

The rest of the office is just as sparse. It has a filing cabinet, a desk, and a rundown computer. We don’t spend much time here. Every time I’ve been in this office, Denise has reprimanded me for something. If I’m here now, I know I royally messed up.

Well, that much is obvious. I had to listen as Jerry and his girlfriend—Christina—told Denise how rude I was. They weren’t wrong.

I need to learn to keep my mouth shut. I used to be a better worker. When I was young and full of life, I put my all into any job I could snag. I’m thirty now. I don’t know how people pretend to care for so long, and I can’t believe anyone out there is passionate about a serving position.

Maybe I’m the problem.

“Are you firing me?” I don’t bother sitting. “Because if you are—I would rather get it over with. I don’t want to waste your time. There’s a lot to clean up out there.”

I’ve fallen to the lowest of lows. It doesn’t hit me until I’m here, flat on the ground. There are two options. I can beg for a job I hate. Or I can be jobless for an undetermined amount of time.

There was a point when I was the most determined, driven person in the world. I miss those days. My education was important to me. Sadly, my degree in art history isn’t as helpful as I wanted it to be.

I moved back to Starbrook after college, and I cannot use my degree in this small town. The nearest museum is a few hours away, and I already know teaching is not for me.

I should have studied something more practical… or perhaps we shouldn’t let teenagers invest thousands of dollars in their future. I’m an example.

I never found my footing in life, and it’s only getting worse.

“You’re ready to let the job go that easily, huh?” The smile on Denise’s face is polite, but there’s a marked sadness behind her eyes.

“Um…” I’m not sure what the correct answer is. “What else am I supposed to do?”

“When I care about something, I fight for it.”

I let the obvious pass between us; I don’t care about this job.

Denise nods as if I said the words aloud.

“Can you tell me what I did wrong?” I ask. “Handling unruly customers is hard for everyone. I know I’m not the first to blow up like that.”

“You’re not.”

“Why is this the breaking point?”

“Because it’s harder for you. This is not the first time customers have complained about your attitude.”

My jaw drops. “I?—”

“I don’t need you to defend yourself.” She pushes her glasses up her nose. “This isn’t personal. If anything, it’s because I care about you—and my bar. I want you to do something you care about, too.”

I care about paying for my house renovations and caring for my sisters. I care about tips and minuscule paychecks. That’s enough for me to do the job she’s paying me for. Why do I need to care about her business?

I know she doesn’t want to hear that .

“I do care,” I say. “I was having a-an off day, I guess.”

“You’ve had a few of them. Is everything all right at home?”

No.

It hasn’t been all right in a year, but that can’t be my excuse anymore. I’ve been going through a rough patch since I first met Denise. At a certain point, she’ll get sick of listening to me whine about my dead mother.

She may be more interested if I could tell her what really happened to my mother. I can’t. We still don’t know what led to the demon attack.

I shake my head. “Everything is fine.”

“That’s good.”

I’ve been through my fair share of jobs, but I’m usually the one leaving them—and for good reason. Leaving because of rude customers is a new low.

I don’t know how to handle this. My smile slips off without me realizing it. I force it back on and straighten up.

“There isn’t anything I can do to change your mind, is there?”

Denise shakes her head. “Do you want to be here? Be honest.”

“I—” If she’s already firing me, I can tell the truth. “No. I don’t.”

“Good.” She leans back in her seat and crosses her arms. “Go find what you want to do. I’ll be rooting for you.”

“You don’t hate me?” It feels silly to ask. My cheeks burn.

“No.” She chuckles. “You’ve been stuck here for too long. We both know that wasn’t the plan. I can’t wait to see your next move.”

“Yeah. Me, too. ”

I’m as in the dark as Denise is because… I have no idea what I’m going to do next. Goddess, help me.

I fight the urge to slam my car door, all too aware that someone is watching…

It’s one of our neighbors.

In any other town, I could sneak inside and avoid the interaction. That’s not possible in Starbrook. I can already feel him watching me.

Sure enough, when I glance in my neighbor’s direction, he smiles and lifts his hand. It’s still dark out. Most people wouldn’t try to start a conversation this early; Seth is another story.

Seth knows my youngest sister, Laurel, better than the rest of us. He’s about seven years younger than me, and it shows. His smile is vibrant. He lacks the years of stress that would bring him down to my level.

He annoys me if I’m honest, but he’s sweet. Seth and his family are among the few human families in our little town, and they’ve always been pleasant neighbors.

“Hey, Juni!” he calls.

I lift a hand in greeting. Returning his smile feels impossible.

“It’s sunrise,” I say. “What are you doing up?”

“Oh, you know me. I have to work on my gains.”

I snort. “Right. Good luck with that.”

It’s colder than a witch’s tit, but Seth is going on a morning run. It further proves his youth; I could never be so strong. Getting up in the morning is more brutal every year.

“Thanks!” He completely ignores my sarcasm. There’s a chance it doesn’t register with him at all.

I don’t care. I’m happy to go inside.

The family home is a mess these days. My mother always kept it in tip-top shape, but now it’s down to me and my four sisters—or three, technically.

Our middle sister, Aspen, has lived in New York for years, and we haven’t seen her since our mother’s funeral.

I rub my hands together and take a peek at the diminishing fire. I’ll have to feed the flame before I sleep. The old floorboards creak as I walk through the house.

My home is silent except for the pitter-patter of paws across the old wooden floor. I won’t be alone for long.

Timber, our family dog, comes barreling over. I sigh softly and bend, scratching our big, shaggy golden retriever behind his ears. Seeing him have brief moments of happiness uplifts me. He’s been sad lately.

It’s understandable. Timber has been with us for over a decade, but he was my mother’s familiar. Not mine. A witch losing her familiar is a pain no one can understand, and it goes both ways. Timber misses our mom as much as any of us do.

“You’re a good boy.” I pat his side and stand up, meandering to the kitchen. “Come on. I’ll get you a treat.”

He deserves it. Timber continues caring for us even though he lost his witch.

It’s four in the morning. I expect everyone in the house to be asleep, but that’s not the case. The light in the kitchen is on, and there’s Maple clutching a steaming cup of coffee in her hands.

Out of all my sisters, Maple is my favorite. That’s right, I’m not above playing favorites. She and I are closest in age, and naturally, our closeness continues into adulthood .

Her red hair is tied up on the top of her head, and she’s already dressed for the day. She wears a uniform to work, too, her plump form clad in a typical chef’s outfit. I see her dressed this way more often than not. When she smiles at me, her cheeks are round and pink.

“I didn’t know you were working today.” I dig my hand into the dog-shaped cookie jar and retrieve a biscuit for Timber.

He wags his tail by my feet, waiting patiently for the treat.

“Neither did I!” She could be upset—I would be—but she isn’t. She lets out a giggle instead. “Someone called in sick for the bread shift! Can you believe it?”

Maple is brilliant in the kitchen. After graduating with a culinary degree, she could have gone anywhere. I’m lucky she came home to Starbrook instead of traveling the world.

“I really can’t believe it. The audacity…” I feed Timber his treat. “You haven’t had a day off in two weeks. That’s not right.”

“I know.” She sighs, but there’s still a smile on her face. “Money is money, right?”

“Right.”

And we need more of that now, considering how my evening went. I press my lips together, not ready to tell Maple what happened.

“Are you off to bed?” Maple lifts her mug to her lips.

I slip off my shoes and settle into a chair at our kitchen table. “I will be soon… maybe. I don’t know if I can sleep tonight.”

The table is cluttered. I don’t mean for it to get this bad, but we’re all busy. I’m the most likely to keep a tidy house between my sisters and me. It’s my job, and I’ve been slacking .

Cookbooks have piled up near Maple, and they’ve been there for a few days. Even though it’s October, a box of tree ornaments rests on the table.

It’s too late to take care of it now. December will be here in a few months.

I pick up an orange flyer from the table. The design is familiar to me—the Haunted Harvest Festival.

Right. That’s coming up soon. For the first time in years, I have no reason to attend.

“Why not?” Maple’s smile finally drops, and her brow wrinkles. “Do you need some chamomile tea?”

I don’t want to ruin her morning. Maple is going to have a long day. She’s hard-working—more than me—and I don’t need to bring her down with my troubles.

But, out of all my sisters, I want to tell her . I tell her everything.

“Tea may not be enough to help me today,” I say. “I’ve been through the wringer.”

That’s a big deal. Tea can cure most problems for a witch. One of our earliest introductions to magic is usually brewing a lovely tea.

She gasps. “What do you mean? You’re scaring me!”

Maple doesn’t look all that worried. She lets out a soft giggle, as carefree as can be.

“I talked with my boss…” I look down at my hands. “Or my ex-boss, I guess.”

It takes a moment for the words to hit her. Her lips part, and her eyes widen. “Oh!”

“I know. It’s bad.”

I’m supposed to be the one to hold our family together, and I can’t even keep a job. Talking to my younger sister about this is embarrassing. It would be different if Maple would come to me for comfort. I’m her big sister; I’m supposed to be helping her, not the other way around.

“But what happened?” she asks. “I thought we liked Denise!”

“We do—or I do—but that doesn’t mean I’m good at the job.”

“So, you were the personality hire?”

I snort. “I guess you could say that… except my personality lost me the job.”

Timber nudges my hand with his wet nose. I turn my attention to him and stroke his soft fur.

“I can get you a new serving job.” Maple is quick to jump to action. “Say the word. We’re always hiring!”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

The last time I worked with Maple, it didn’t go well. It’s not her fault. She loves what she does, which makes her intense in the kitchen.

I don’t want to let my sister down like I did Denise.

“Are you sure?” she asks.

I nod. “I’ll keep it in mind if I can’t find anything else.”

“Oh, give yourself a break first.” She leans over and touches my shoulder. “Don’t start the job search right away.”

“That’s not an option. I can’t waste time licking my wounds. I have student loans to pay.”

“You can and should take time to relax,” she says. “Self-care isn’t a waste. You don’t need to carry the burden alone. That’s not healthy!”

“I know.”

“You could get a job with your degree.”

“Where?” I shake my head.

“At a school!”

I could tell her for the thousandth time that I don’t want to teach art, but starting that conversation back up doesn’t feel worth it.

“Yeah,” I say. “Maybe.”

It sounds like a solution, but it doesn’t feel like one. Or, maybe I’m not ready for solutions.

“We’re here for you,” Maple says.

She can say it until the moon turns blue, but I won’t listen. I am supposed to be in charge now.

My sisters and I are all adults. The youngest, Laurel, is twenty-one. We can all care for ourselves, but my mother didn’t want that. It isn’t what she taught us.

We’re supposed to stick together and help elevate each other.

“I know you are.” I offer a tight smile. “And I appreciate it. I won’t start looking today.”

“Good!” That seems to appease Maple. She stands up and smooths down her white top. “Get some rest, sweetie. I’ll be home by lunchtime. We can catch up then.”

“I will,” I say. “Thanks.”

I must fall asleep on the couch. It’s warm and toasty when I wake up—which is why this is my favorite place to sleep. It’s closer to the fireplace than my room upstairs is.

The couch is old and worn, and it feels like it’s sucking me in. It’s perfect. It should probably be replaced soon, but I have more important things to worry about.

Including a potential intruder.

The floorboards creak as someone’s clumsy feet stomp across them .

I sit upright, peering around the room with groggy eyes, intent on finding the source of the noise. A flash of green hair is the first thing I see as my youngest sister tiptoes through the room.

“Shh. Go back to sleep. You can’t see anything.”

“Laurel.” I lie back down. “You don’t need to sneak inside anymore. You’re a grown woman.”

I’m not her mother, though it may be hard for the baby of the family to comprehend. Our father left when she was two years old. My mother was a fantastic parent—I’ll never say otherwise—but I spent my teenage years helping with Laurel.

I would do it again if I had to, but it left us with a strange relationship. Her being a decade younger than me doesn’t help with that.

Laurel is the rebel of the family. If sneaking in at night doesn’t prove it, her green hair does. She was once the athletic one, going to college on a track scholarship, but she left that behind to run around Starbrook instead.

That’s the simplistic way of looking at it. The truth is, she dropped out after our mother passed. I would have done the same.

Her coming home was supposed to be a short break, but it’s been a year, and she shows no sign of going back to Orono. I don’t know if it’s part of the rebellion—but it’s hard to rebel when there’s no one to stop you. She can stay here as long as she wants.

“No?” She stops in her tracks.

“No. Do you want to tell me where you were?”

“Out with a friend. That’s all.”

“What kind of friend?”

“Something tells me you already know.” She continues up the stairs. “I’m going to sleep. Try not to be too loud. ”

“I’ll try.”

“Tell the others, too!”

I’m up now, even if I don’t want to be. I glance at my phone and realize I’ve only slept a few hours. Yet, my body is wired.

It’s time to start my day. There’s nothing else to do.

OZAN

This is where I’ll spend the next phase of my life. Although my new apartment is a fraction of the size of my last home, it has something the other didn’t.

Peace.

I’m ready to let go of what was.

My new apartment is above my shop and…it’s nice. The single room is rustic and different than where I lived with Vanessa.

It’s lonely here, but that’s what I need. To be alone again. To be me.

The floor is unpolished wood, and the walls are red brick. The apartment is a studio. My bed is already shoved off in a corner, with a room divider to create a facade of privacy. The only other room here is a small bathroom.

It’s big enough for me and me alone.

I glance at myself in the mirror. The lighting in the tiny bathroom is horrendous. It’s a great reminder that I have to shave soon. The gray streaks in the front tell a story of the stress I’ve been carrying.

There’s more gray these days, I swear .

I set down the last of my boxes. I didn’t bring much.

Starbrook is my home, the place I was raised, but now it’s my fresh start. I want it to feel that way—and I don’t want to bring anything that reminds me of Vanessa.

Although we have been separated for a year, the ink on our divorce papers is still fresh. I’m over her, but I’m not sure when I’ll be able to get over the betrayal. This apartment and the shop downstairs…

It feels like a good start to that.