Page 83 of Divine Temptations

Or rather, me—my reflection, staring back from the mirror above the headboard.

I jumped, just a little. Surprised.

Jesus.

Who was that?

The guy in the mirror didn’t look like Julian Reed, world-weary podcast host, born skeptic, leather-jacket-wearing city boy who ordered his coffee black and his feelings repressed.

This guy looked like he might say “namaste” unironically.

I stepped closer, peering at the gauzy shirt clinging to my chest, the swirled pattern like a galaxy of poor choices. The corduroy pants sat lower on my hips than I remembered, and the thin leather sandals looked like they’d walked me straight into a drum circle. My hair was messy from the drive, my eyes a little glassy from lack of sleep, and the whole emotional collapse into my own bullshit thing I’d been nursing since Jude rejected me.

I looked like a fraud. And the worst part? That had been the plan.

I sat on the edge of the bed, pulled out my phone, and typed a message to Claudia.

Arrived in Riverbend. Will begin “research” shortly.

Vibe is… aggressively whimsical. Will keep you posted.

I stared at it for a moment, then added:

Jude looks better in my head than I’d like. Send vodka.

I hit send.

It was only 3:07 p.m.

I needed a drink.

A real one. Something with booze and bite. Something that would settle the nerves currently staging a one-man protest in my chest.

Which meant one place.

The Chalice & Cherry.

I stood, swiped my wallet and keys off the dresser, and glanced one last time at the mirror.

“Blend in,” I told my reflection.

The man in the mirror didn’t respond.

He just looked nervous.

And maybe—just maybe—a little excited.

Riverbend in the late afternoon felt like walking through a Pinterest board titled Whimsical Pagan Small Town Fantasycore.

Every storefront was hand-painted, every sidewalk crack stuffed with wildflowers, and every person I passed looked like they had at least one Etsy store and a firm opinion about moon phases.

A woman wearing what I could only describe as a bridal gown made entirely out of recycled curtains stepped out of a shop calledCrystals & Croissantsand offered me a tiny cup of “chakra-aligning herbal elixir.” I politely declined and keptmoving, dodging a guy on a unicycle playing a flute and a toddler with glitter all over his face holding a sign that said, “Mercury is always in retrograde if you’re a coward.”

Cool. Noted.

Riverbend didn’t just lean into the whole crunchy mystic vibe. It bathed in it. Rolled around in it. Possibly had a threesome with it. And the worst part?

I didn’t hate it.