Page 4 of Bewitched & Bewildered (Witches of Starbrook #1)

Chapter 4

Ozan

My first customer storms in like the place is on fire. There’s a flame behind her bright eyes, too. My bunny familiar, Aiyla, rests on my counter as I stroke the top of her head. It’s the definition of minding my own business…

How have I already pissed someone off?

The customer is clad in all-black, with a hat resting on her wavy, black hair. Her piercing blue eyes catch my attention before I can greet her, and the look on her face stuns me into silence.

She cuts through me with a single look, sending a thrill up my spine. I swallow, trying to suppress the dry feeling in my throat.

This may be the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Under her coat, she wears a matching skirt and top. They’re both dark with red flowers on them. The skirt clings to her wide, curvaceous hips. Her round face would be sweet if not for the way she glares at me, and her dark hair makes the contrast of her fair complexion striking.

Desire stirs in me. It’s something I haven’t felt since…well, since before Vanessa cheated on me .

I stomp the feeling out before it can take root. That’s not why I’m here. I didn’t come to Starbrook to get my heart broken again.

When I remember to greet her, I don’t sound as steady as I want to. “Welcome to…”

“Oh, stop it.”

I don’t recognize her until she speaks. It’s Juniper Hawthorne—and, of course, she’s mad at me. She never liked me before. Why would she start now?

“Juniper! I would know those dulcet tones anywhere.” I offer her a playful grin.

She doesn’t return the smile.

Juniper and I went to high school and elementary school together. She’s different than I remember. Her auburn hair is replaced with dark tresses, and… has she always been this attractive? I guess there’s a reason I picked her as my first kiss. I’ve always been more surprised that she chose me .

I should be annoyed that she’s glaring and cursing, but how she looks at me makes me hot behind the ears.

Her eyes drift briefly to my bunny, and I wonder if Aiyla’s adorable nature will earn me any points.

It becomes apparent it won’t.

“What are you doing here?” she asks. “You moved to Boston years ago.”

“Are you keeping tabs on me?”

“No!”

“Clearly not, if you didn’t know I was coming back.” I tap my fingers against the countertop. “Try not to look too disappointed.”

“You’re here for good?”

“Yup. Permanent move. ”

“That’s fine—but what is this?” She gestures wildly to the shop.

When her eyes land on me again, there’s pain behind them. It’s more than the cruel glare she was offering before. Her lower lip trembles.

“It’s the new town apothecary,” I say, trying to gauge her reaction. “This is why I came back to Starbrook.”

Not entirely, but it’s part of the reason. The last thing I want is to tell Juniper about my divorce. She’ll find a way to hold it over my head.

My parents have been complaining for months about the lack of witch supplies in Starbrook. The town is full of witches, and being unable to get supplies is a disaster. They’ve been driving nearly an hour to the closest apothecary.

I know the Hawthornes used to run one, but…

It shut down, as far as I know. I didn’t expect the sisters to take my shop as a slight, but I should have known better. Juniper and I have always had bad blood, even if it’s mostly one-sided.

“Why did you open up so close to our shop?” She turns away from me and peers at the shelves.

“It’s not like Starbrook has a lot of real estate options.”

I spent weeks finding a spot, and when I made an offer on this place, it felt like my lucky day. It used to be the pharmacy, and after a couple of weeks of putting in elbow grease, it’s the perfect cozy spot for me to live and work.

I’m proud of the shop. The walls are stocked with dried herbs, I’m offering charmed items I spelled myself, and my potion brewer is talented. The crystal collection? Out of this world. I have everything a witch may need.

Juniper should be happy. Hell, I’m pretty close to being happy myself .

My life is different now. I went from managing a media company in Boston to… well, this. And this is what the town needs. I have high hopes for my little apothecary.

Unlike the gig in Boston, I care about this. It doesn’t feel like my business degree is going to waste.

“I know you did this on purpose.” She turns her sharp glare back on me.

“Why do you think that?” I put my hands on my hips, fighting off a smile.

“You’ve always had an issue with me.”

“I really don’t have an issue with you. You’re projecting.”

If we have issues, it goes both ways. Juniper is aware of this, but unsurprisingly, she is trying to rewrite history.

“I’m not?—”

“I heard Hawthorne apothecary isn’t in business anymore. People need supplies, Juni. You should understand that.”

Her expression drops, her glare flattering. Her fingers twitch at her sides, clenching and unfurling. The old apothecary has many memories for her. It does for all of us. I can be empathetic, but…

This is a good thing. Her mom can retire like she wants to, and the witches can still get their supplies.

Her glower is back more quickly than I would like. “We’re taking a temporary hiatus.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes. We were always planning on coming back.”

“I welcome it,” I say. “Competition is healthy. You should know that if you’re planning on running a business. Neither of us needs to have a monopoly on selling herbs.”

“If you knew anything about this, you would know it’s more than herbs. ”

“I get that. Believe me, I do.”

The old Hawthorne shop means a lot to me, too. It speaks of weekends spent shopping with my father, of stocking up on rosemary and clear quartz together. It reminds me of bickering with Juniper while our parents chatted by the register. Hell, I got my first tarot reading from her mother.

She charged me five bucks and helped me avoid flunking calculus. Mrs. Hawthorne is a wise woman, and I respect her family.

“Why don’t you take a moment and look around?” I gesture as I come out from behind the counter, standing close to Juniper.

She has to be a foot shorter than me. I remember when she was the taller one, but after my high school growth spurt, that changed—and I kept growing well into college.

Now, she has to tilt her chin to keep fixing me with her death glare.

“I don’t want anything you’re selling,” she says.

“Oh? Do you have a nice, fresh stock in your abandoned store?”

“Yes—and it’s not abandoned! I told you—we’re reopening.”

“No one in town knows you’re reopening. That’s not good for business. A grand opening should come with some fanfare.”

“Then how come I haven’t heard about your business?”

“Because you haven’t been paying attention. The rest of town is talking about it.”

“Everyone already knows about our apothecary. I don’t need a fancy marketing plan to get people in the door.”

“I’m sure you’re right.”

“I am. ”

“Let me rephrase that.” With a smile, I take a step closer. “I hope you’re right. I would hate for something to go wrong. I love that old shop as much as you do.”

My words are genuine, but she won’t take them that way.

“That’s impossible,” she says. “No one loves it as much as my sisters and me.”

“I mean it. I want to see you succeed.”

“You’re giving me the evil eye, aren’t you?” Her eyes widen. “How dare you curse our reopening?”

I lift my hands in surrender. “I’m not!”

“I’m onto you. Don’t think you can pull a fast one on me.”

“I would never, ever think that.”

Her chest heaves—a sign of anger—but I force my eyes to stay on hers.

After a moment, she turns on her heel. “Stay out of my way.”

“I intend on it.” I return to my spot behind the counter. “Best of luck with your shop, Juni!”

The chimes on the door are the last thing I hear before she storms off.

Gods. How can one little, angry person be so adorable?

JUNIPER

I’m too sensitive, and it’s too late to take it back. I’m already sprinting from the building and do not intend to return.

It’s just that I would have liked some warning—not about him being back in town, though that was certainly a shock, but about the new apothecary.

When I came to town today, I was looking for a job. Seeing Ozan again was not on the agenda. It’s been years since I’ve thought about or spoken to him. We both went off to college when we were eighteen.

He never came back. The most I saw were glimpses of him around the holidays, usually with his gorgeous girlfriend.

I never thought he would return to Starbrook. He lived only four hours away, but his life seemed to contrast mine. Now, it couldn’t seem more similar. He’s here, and he’s running an apothecary.

Ozan is doing everything I’m supposed to do.

The realization is still sinking in as I stomp down main street.

Ozan is a talented witch. He’s an expert spellcaster. I’ll admit he has enough knowledge and wisdom to own the shop. When he ran away to live and work as a human, I assumed he would become disconnected from the craft.

It appears I was mistaken. There’s even a chance I was projecting; moving to a big city and living an everyday life was once a dream of mine.

I should keep looking for a job, but I’m too rattled to care about my bank account. I stop outside of the apothecary instead— our apothecary. This time, when I think of memories, I think of one with Ozan. I have quite a few memories with him. He and his family were always coming around the shop.

Most of my times with him are a blur of bickering.

One stands out as unique. It was our senior year, and I was working alone. I may not want to run the apothecary now, but working there was a blast. Out of all my jobs, it was my favorite.

He came in looking for herbs for his spells, and that should have been the end of the interaction. It wasn’t. Not by far.

I can’t remember how we ended up kissing. One moment, we were arguing about whether roses are baneful or beneficial in magic. Then my lips were on his… and I started it.

It was hard, quick, and confusing. It was my first real kiss. He’ll always be a part of that memory, and I can’t erase it.

He looks better than before. Ozan isn’t awkward and gangly anymore. His dark hair and eyes are a vision next to his golden complexion. I would even call him attractive . He’s still tall; he has to be a foot taller than me, but he looks strong, rugged, and?—

There’s a tapping on the glass. It drags me from my thoughts, and with a jump and a squeak, I return to the present.

Maple is inside—and she’s waving at me.

“What are you doing in there?” My eyes widen.

I’ve been assuming the others aren’t keen on entering the shop any more than I am. That doesn’t seem to be the case. Maple looks at home in the abandoned apothecary.

What does it say if I’m the only one avoiding it?

She runs to the door and swings it open, gesturing rapidly. “Come in, come in. It’s cold out!” She chuckles. “And I know how you are with the cold.”

“I am perfectly normal with the cold.” I enter the shop in a huff. “The rest of you are strange.”

The warmth envelops me, and I let out a soft, wistful sigh. The apothecary is nostalgic. It’s as if I’ve gone back in time…back to when my mother was here. Any moment now, she’ll poke her head around the corner and ask if I want tea or hot chocolate.

My throat is tight as I look around the empty place. It still smells like dust and cedar. Like her.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you,” Maple says.

“Neither was I.” I turn to her with narrowed eyes. “What are you doing here, anyway?”

“I come here to relax sometimes. Usually after my shift. It’s on the way home and all…”

“You find it relaxing?”

“Of course!” She lets out a soft laugh. “This is where I feel Mom’s energy—more than anywhere. More than the house. This place is her.”

And I let her die—in more ways than one. My throat tightens again, hard enough this time that I may choke. I push away the guilt and the grieving to focus on the shop.

Ozan and his apothecary are the wake-up call I need.

“I feel her, too,” I say.

The difference is I don’t want to feel her.

For the second time in one day, tears threaten to spill. I turn away, subtly swiping one from the corner of my misty eye.

“That’s not a bad thing.” Maple’s shoes click against the wooden floor as she approaches. Her warm hand rests on my shoulder. “Why are you avoiding her?”

“I don’t know.”

Because she’s disappointed in me. Because she hates me. I won’t say those things aloud. The others don’t understand—even Maple, who knows me better than anyone, won’t get it.

“Do you want to leave?” she asks. “I’ll walk you home. C’mon. ”

Yes. I want to run away and never look back—not to erase my memories with Mom, but to leave them here, where I know they’re safe. I don’t want to relive them.

“No.” I turn to my sister and lie to her face. “Quite the contrary. I’m ready to reopen the shop.”

Her face lights up. “Really? Are you sure?”

I nod.

“Why now?” She squints. “Does this have anything to do with Ozzy?”

I’m not the only witch who saw his grand opening. Why didn’t the others tell me about it?

I flinch. “Don’t remind me.”

“I knew it! He always had a way of getting under your skin.”

“This has nothing to do with him!” I turn away. “It’s for us. It’s for mom . You said this place is her. If we let it die…”

“I don’t think we’re letting her down if that’s what you’re implying.”

“But think of how happy she would be to see us running it.”

“Us?” Maple wants to dance. I can feel it. Her energy is positively vibrant as she bounces on the heels of her feet. “Does that mean you want help running it?”

“Yes,” I say. “Is that so surprising?”

“Honestly…”

“Please. Be honest.”

“Of course, it’s a surprise. You never let us help you.”

I press my lips together. Maple is correct, and it’s a subtle thing my other sisters may not realize. They’re not supposed to help me. I’m their big sister. I helped them learn to walk, talk, and all the things big sisters do. That’s how it’s supposed to be.

They don’t need my help anymore, not in that way, but I can’t go to them. This shop is an exception. Mom gave it to me, but it’s theirs as much as mine.

“I don’t mean to be like that,” I say.

“I know—and I know it’s partially her fault. She taught you to be like this, even if she didn’t mean to.”

“Don’t…don’t blame her. Not here.”

I blamed her enough myself, especially when she was still with us. I loved my mother, and I still do, but we had a complicated relationship. She did her best. She still wasn’t perfect—none of us are.

My mother was a kind, warm woman, but she was only one person. We didn’t have a second parent to help. I naturally took on the role.

Whether that meant working at the shop, taking my sisters to practice, or getting them to bed on time. That fell on my shoulders, and it was more than a teenager should have been responsible for.

“I’m not blaming her,” she says softly. “But I see you.”

“What if I don’t want to be seen?”

“Then we can focus on opening the shop, and I’ll pretend I see nothing.” Her smile brightens. “There’s a lot of work to do around here.”

Maple is always good at focusing on the bright side.

“I know.” I shrug. “And I’m looking for work, anyway. Maybe the timing is… actually right. I think this will work out for us.”

“I think so, too.”

Everything happens for a reason—or at least, most things do. I lost my job at just the right time. Now, I can throw everything I have into the apothecary.