Page 4 of Spellbound & Speechless (Witches of Starbrook #2)

Aspen

Coming back to Starbrook is terrible enough, but this? Oh, I’ve fallen to a new low.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m proud of Juniper and Maple. The tavern is gorgeous, and the food smells like heaven. It’s the place I’d want to hang out in this dusty little town. I’m happy that I can finally see it up close.

I’m even proud of Laurel, who seems to be a good bartender. It may be the first time I’ve seen her take something seriously.

Can’t I be proud of them from afar? Preferably from the other side of the bar or dancing across the room. I don’t want to work with them, or to work here at all, but I’m out of money, and Juniper is too generous. How am I supposed to turn down the job offer?

“This place is dead.” I set down my bag behind the bar.

“What do you expect?” Juniper puts her hands on her hips. “It’s four in the afternoon. The dinner rush hasn’t even started.”

I tilt my head to the side. “Then why do you open so early? ”

“Because the lunch crew is good for Maple, even if it’s not best for the alcohol sales.”

“Right, right.”

The Moonlit Tavern is less magical in the daytime. It’s warm and cozy, with a few patrons eating lunch at the bar and the little tables. Soft goth music plays through the room, and Laurel chats with a customer in a warm, cheery tone.

I suppose it’s a different sort of magic.

We had potion bars like this back in the city, but this has to be a novelty in Starbrook. Our little town is changing. It’s my fault that I didn’t see it coming. Not only did I neglect my family, but I didn’t pay enough attention to the transformation of our hometown.

The spirit of Starbrook is still as open as ever. It always welcomes me with open arms, even if I don’t deserve the warmth.

“Have you had a serving job before?” Juniper asks.

I cross my arms and pop out a hip. “Come on. You know I haven’t.”

I respect the hard work of servers, but I never wanted to become one. I’m supposed to be the patron who gives the workers big tips and compliments their makeup.

“You should be good at it,” Juniper says. “Just work a little of your glamour magic.”

I sniff. “I don’t know if I should waste my charms on that.”

Glamour magic always sneaks into my day. I glamour my perfumes and spray them in my hair, carrying little bits of love dust wherever the wind blows. My reluctance has little to do with not wanting to spend the energy.

If I had used my glamour at my last job, I would have lasted longer—but I wouldn’t then, and I won’t now. If I get ahead, it will be from my work, not my magic .

“Whatever you say.” Juniper beckons with a finger. “Come on. I’ll show you around.”

Despite my lack of serving experience, I have a ton of practice fetching coffee and smiling for people who couldn’t care less about me. I’m confident by the end of our training. Juniper has me serve a few tables while things are slow, and it’s easy. This job won’t be half bad.

It’s not what I want to spend my life doing, but it’s a fun change of pace for now.

Everything changes when the dinner rush starts. It’s a Wednesday, a slow day, but at seven on the dot, hordes of customers make their way inside. At least I don’t have to work behind the bar. Juniper and Laurel seem even more swamped than I am.

It’s just me and another server, and she’s distracted with her tables. I am utterly alone. I scurry around the floor, desperate to remember which table the food in my hands is for.

Left? Right? Someone ordered fish, someone ordered a Mediterranean sandwich, and someone else ordered chicken. Who ordered what?

There are only four tables in my section. Why can’t I keep them straight?

I plaster on a smile and scamper to the nearest table. Two women. They’re probably about my age, and they look friendly—like the type of people I would be friends with.

“Alrighty,” I chirp. “We have one chicken fettuccine and the house salmon. Can I get you anything else?”

The women exchange looks.

“We’re sorry,” one says. “This isn’t what we ordered. She’s a vegetarian.”

The blood rushes from my face, and I let out a burst of laughter—a feeble attempt at recovery. “I’m so sorry!” I pick up the plates. “I’ll be out with your order soon… my mistake… this is my first day.”

“That’s okay!” the other woman says.

I don’t stick around to hear what happens next. I probably should. It’s rude to run off the way I do, and it’s even ruder when I set the plates on the correct table without a word.

If that were my first and last mistake of the night, it would be easier to handle. Of course, the rest of the shift goes just as badly. That’s my luck these days. I trip over my feet, apologize a thousand times, and spill a drink on a poor customer.

At least it’s only water.

Oh, who am I kidding? There’s no silver lining. They don’t want me in the industry I love , and I’m bad at the only job I can get.

I can’t take this anymore.

“I’m taking a break!” I shout to Juniper when I’m seconds from ripping my hair out.

It’s late in the evening, and the dinner crowd has slowed enough for me to catch my breath.

I duck into the alley behind the tavern, sighing as I press my back to the brick wall. Tears fall down my cheeks, and I close my eyes, letting out a shaky exhale. “Aphrodite, bless me.” I snap my fingers.

I won’t use her blessing to charm the customers, but I can prevent my makeup from smearing.

It’s a small act of magic, and after a stressful first night, I think I deserve some help.

I rub my fingers over the tears; they disappear—no mascara trails.

I don’t even need to check a mirror. I know Aphrodite supports me. She always does.

“Tough night?” someone asks .

I jump and turn to look at Laurel with wide eyes. “Don’t scare me like that!”

“Sorry.” She chuckles. “I didn’t mean to! Honest.” Smoke curls from her lips.

I glare. “You smoke now?”

There’s no room for me to judge, considering I tried and failed to start my rebellious smoker phase days earlier. Laurel is my little sister… and she’s an athlete. She shouldn’t risk her lung health.

Maybe she’s not an athlete anymore; I wouldn’t know. I know nothing about her or any of my sisters.

“Sometimes,” she says. “Especially when I’m drinking. What? You never have a cigarette with a beer?”

“Ew. No.” I wrinkle my nose. “I never have a beer .”

We dissolve into laughter, and it feels… not quite like when we were young, but something more. Something new, like an understanding, settles between us.

“You’ll be fine,” Laurel says. “You need to stop freaking out. It’s not like the boss will fire you.”

I push my sticky, sweaty bangs away from my face. “Yeah, well, maybe she should.”

“Come the fuck on. It’s your first day on the job, and Juniper barely trained you. I spent weeks training before we ever opened.”

“Lucky you.”

“It was different then.” She takes a drag of her cigarette. “We had more time to figure it all out.”

If it were another sister, I would give her the benefit of the doubt. They wouldn’t mean to make me feel bad. Knowing Laurel? She probably does.

“Right.” I smile wryly. “I should have been here. Is that what you’re saying? ”

“No.” She cocks her head. “Why should you? You had your own shit going on.”

The red tip of her cigarette is like a night light under the pitch-black sky. Starbrook is so much darker than the city.

I press my hands against the brick wall and gaze at the stars. At least I can see those out here. “I guess I did, but I was focusing on the wrong things.”

“What did you learn?” Laurel asks.

I furrow my brow, unsure what she’s asking.

“From your old job, I mean. Did you learn anything about the fashion industry, or designing, or anything ?”

“I learned… well, I learned a lot. It was tough, but I got to study under some of the most respected designers in the country.” Whether or not they deserve the respect is another story.

“Then you were focusing on the right things, even if it didn’t work out in the end.” Her eyes narrow. “They can’t take those things from you now. Don’t let them, and don’t trick yourself into thinking they can.”

“Right.” We go quiet for a moment. “Why do you still hate me? I know as children we bickered, but?—”

“I don’t hate you!” She frowns. “I never hated you. I… well, I looked up to you, and I always felt like you were looking down on me—if you looked at me at all.”

“I guess I was distracted.” I kick a pebble.

“I get it now. You had dreams, ambitions.”

“So did you.” I look up. “What happened to college, Laur? To the Olympics?”

“You can’t be serious!” She laughs and shakes her head. “That was never going to happen. It was a silly dream.”

“It could have! Dreams come true every day. You don’t know until you try. ”

She looks off into the distance. When she sniffles, I worry she’ll cry instead of answering. “Honestly… I don’t know what to say,” she murmurs. “No one has asked me about this. I think they’re afraid I’ll break. But the truth is, I lost my love for it.”

“Ah. After mom died?”

“Before that. It’s just that I was doing it for Mom.” She looks at me from the corner of her eye. “And for you. To prove I can be successful… like you.”

I scoff. “Well, congratulations. We’re both living the same dreamless life now.”

“No, no. Don’t be like that. We’re both deciding what our future looks like.” She puts out her cigarette and tosses it in a can. “And me, personally? I’m loving the freedom.”

“When will I learn to love it?”

She wrinkles her nose. “Hard to say. You don’t have the same free spirit.”

“Touché.” I laugh softly. “Can we consider this… a truce? Start over?”

“We can sure try.” She frowns. “I’m sorry for being such a brat.”

I roll my eyes. “I wouldn’t expect anything less from you.”

If I offended Laurel, it doesn’t show. She steps closer and touches my shoulder, shaking me. “Bring back the Aspen I look up to, all right?”

“Who is that?” I smile sadly. “I don’t know anymore.”

“You can make anyone like you—without your magic.” She nods at the door. “Use that charm in there, and you’ll be golden.”

I nod, considering her words. I’m not above taking advice from my little sister. Anyone can see that Laurel has grown far past where she was the last time I saw her. In my mind, she’s still a teenager …

But here she is, smoking a cigarette and helping me get back on track.

“I’ll try.”

I don’t want to disappoint Laurel, but making people like me isn’t the problem. I’m bad at being a server. Interning was easier than this. Sure, I had a few coffee orders to memorize, but that was nothing compared to keeping track of tables and orders.

Even using my notepad doesn’t help. I may be decent at sketching, but my writing is illegible.

My shift ends, and I knock on the door of the office, poking my head in.

“Wait for me to invite you in next time,” Juniper says. “I don’t know if you’ve heard, but I have a partner now. We could have been busy.”

Busy . That’s one way to put it.

“Way to brag.” I grin. “Hot partner, successful business… you have it all, don’t you?”

She stares flatly, but I know she’s laughing on the inside. “Just come in.”

Our conversation will be short.

I linger near the closed door. “I think?—”

Juniper hardly pays me any attention, clicking away at her laptop as she says, “You’re not quitting.”

“What?” My eyes widen. “How did you know?”

“Because I know you. I know all of you.”

I glare. “I didn’t quit my last job, if that’s what you’re assuming. ”

Well, I sort of did, but it wasn’t like this. The brand was unethical. I wouldn’t have stuck around if they begged.

“I know you didn’t.” Juniper’s expression softens. “And I know you’re a hard worker when you care about something. I don’t expect you to put the same effort into this job.”

“I’m trying to!”

“I can see that. That’s why I want you to stay.” She shuts her laptop. “It’s your first night. Give it a week before you do anything rash.”

My shoulders slump. “Why should I? I’m ruining your business?—”

“You’re not. One bad server can’t ruin what I’ve built—and I’m offended you think otherwise.”

“Fine, but I’m definitely not helping .”

“Who cares? Let your family help you , Aspen. When is the last time you let us help?”

Never. All I ever wanted was to grow up and be on my own.

I loved my family and still do, but I wanted to be myself…

by myself. Being a Hawthorne witch comes with too much pressure, and I’m just a silly love witch.

I can’t be like my mother, the jack-of-all-trades.

I can’t be like Juniper, an expert potion maker.

Rowan’s ancient magic goes completely over my head. Where do I fit in here?

When we lost Mom, that desire to flee became more than a want—it was a need . It showed me what loss was and taught me that I never wanted to experience it again.

My loss should have done the opposite, taught me to keep my loved ones closer, but I couldn’t. I still can’t. Even now, I’m itchy at the idea of letting Juniper help. How many of my mistakes tonight were self-sabotage, all to get away from her?

I want to find my way in Starbrook, but I still want to do it alone .

Juniper looks at me with her piercing eyes, and I have the strangest feeling she knows the answers better than I do.

“I’ll try,” I murmur, the words coming through a tight throat. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” She leans in. “ Change . Grow.”

“I don’t know how to do that.” Flowers need light to grow, and I’m lost in the dark.

“Last year, I was in your shoes. I lost my job, and I had no clue what I wanted to do next.”

“That’s how you came up with the bar?”

Her lips twist. “Sort of. I had some help. It’s okay for you to get some help, too.”

“Again, I’ll try.”

“I don’t expect you to stay here forever.” She lifts her hands. “I don’t even want you to. Just try it out until you find what you want to do. Agreed?”

I nod resolutely. “Agreed.”

“And don’t let a few mess-ups ruin your self-esteem. It’s not that serious.”

Juniper doesn’t realize it’s too late for me. It’s not the mess-ups or anything to do with work. My self-esteem is already in the trash, and there’s no saying I can do anything to get it out.

“Thank you for giving me a chance,” I say. “I hope you don’t regret it.”

“I will never regret helping you.” She holds my gaze momentarily before leaning back and breaking out a rare smile. “Now, clock out and drink two shots—boss’s orders.”