Page 17

Chapter

Thirteen

JUNIPER

S pring burst from every corner of the town square as I made my way toward Eternal Matches, my steps light.

Daisies and violets pushed through lush grass around the converted Victorian house, the flowers’ faces turned hopefully toward the morning sun.

Cherry blossoms drifted like pale confetti across the cobblestone path, briefly settling on the bronze plaque announcing "Eternal Matches" before being carried away on a gentle breeze.

Only a few weeks ago, dirt had filled my mouth as I clawed my way from a shallow grave, somehow surviving what should have been my end; today, I was collecting my first paycheck as a professional matchmaker.

Lust had surprised me yesterday by insisting I take today off. A "payday holiday," he'd called it with unusual generosity. I'd found his decision odd, but hadn't argued, even if it was a desperate attempt to one-up me on our bet.

I needed it.

Things were going well at the agency; all of the matches from the mixer were flourishing, and requests for my services specifically had started coming in.

Perhaps I'd found my calling after all. There was a certain freedom in analyzing other people's romantic potential while having thoroughly written it off for myself.

I smoothed my sweater–a soft sage green that Diana had included in my new wardrobe–and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.

The office door creaked familiarly as I pushed it open, expecting to find Thea at the reception desk. Instead, the space was empty, though I could hear movement upstairs. I checked the antique grandfather clock in the corner. I was early, but not that early. Strange.

Curiosity drew me toward Lust's office, where warm lamplight spilled beneath the closed door. I hesitated, my knuckles raised to knock. Through the frosted glass pane, I could make out his silhouette, hunched over his desk. Something about his posture–less arrogant, more focused–gave me pause.

I knocked softly, and the silhouette straightened immediately.

"Enter." His voice had that imperious tone that both irritated and amused me.

I pushed the door open to find Lust surrounded by neat stacks of folders – the same haphazard client files I'd been complaining about since my first day.

He looked up, and for a fraction of a second, I caught a flash of something almost vulnerable in his expression before his usual mask of casual indifference slipped into place.

"Juniper." He leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms above his head in a way that made his expensive shirt pull across his chest. "Eager for your spoils of victory, I see."

I bit back a smile. "Just here to collect my paycheck. The fact that it includes bonuses is merely coincidental."

"All five," he muttered, shaking his head. "Unprecedented. Vivienne actually sent flowers to thank us. Flowers! She's a five- hundred-year-old vampire who once threatened to eviscerate me for suggesting she try speed dating."

"Maybe she just needed the right match." I moved closer to his desk, eyeing the organized folders with undisguised surprise. "What's all this?"

"Implementing your suggested filing system." He gestured vaguely at the stacks. "Color-coded by species, indexed alphabetically, with compatibility indicators clearly marked. As you so persistently recommended."

I couldn't hide my shock. "You're really doing it? I thought you said my ideas were—what was it?—'tediously modern and unnecessarily complicated.' "

"They are." He shuffled a few papers. "But they're also effective. The five couples from your mixer are still dating, which means your methods have merit. I'm adaptable."

Coming from Lust, this was practically a declaration of surrender. I tried not to look too smug as I perched on the edge of the client chair. "In that case, I have some thoughts about digitizing these records?—"

"Don't push it," he warned, though without real heat. He pulled open a drawer and retrieved an envelope, sliding it across the desk. "Your paycheck, with all appropriate bonuses. You earned them."

The envelope was heavier than I expected, and when I peeked inside, my eyes widened at the figure on the cash. This was more than double what I'd calculated, even with the bonuses.

"There's a mistake," I said, pushing it back toward him. "This is too much."

"No mistake." He closed the drawer with a decisive click.

"Diana insisted on an additional compensation package for your unexpected encounter with the werewolf. Danger pay, if you will. I also figured you probably wouldn’t be looking at opening a bank account any time soon so I provided it in cash. "

The mention of Xavier sent a chill down my spine. The week had passed without any further sign of him, but I couldn't shake the feeling that this was merely a temporary reprieve.

"Any word from our uninvited guest?" I asked, trying to sound casual.

Something hardened in Lust's eyes. "Envy has been monitoring the situation. Your former fiancé appears to believe that it was a case of mistaken identity. For now."

"For now," I echoed quietly.

Lust studied me, his usual sardonic expression softening. "How are you holding up? Really?"

The question caught me off guard. In my short time at Eternal Matches, Lust had been many things–irritating, arrogant, surprisingly protective–but rarely concerned with my emotional well-being.

"I'm..." I started to give my automatic response, then stopped myself. "I'm taking it day by day. Building a life as Juniper feels...right, somehow. Like this is who I was supposed to be all along."

He nodded, seeming satisfied with my answer. "Good. The clients seem to respond well to you. There's something about your approach that's...effective."

My pulse quickened at his almost-compliment. "Just doing my job."

"Doing it remarkably well," he said, studying me with unusual intensity. "Five for five at the mixer. Even Diana can't claim that kind of success rate."

I shifted uncomfortably under his scrutiny, wondering if he somehow knew about the strange auras I'd begun seeing, the way I'd felt drawn to certain emotional energies that night. Whatever was happening to me, I wasn't ready to discuss it—not until I understood it myself. My entire life I’ve had no magick and having any now felt wrong. But also right. I still have never had sex and as a witch I shouldn’t have any magick.

"Just beginner's luck," I said lightly. "Or maybe being emotionally uninvested has its advantages."

He looked like he wanted to press further, but the office door swung open before he could respond.

Thea swept in carrying two steaming mugs, her entrance perfectly timed as always.

Her crimson blouse was unbuttoned one button too many for professional standards, but she somehow made it look elegantly daring rather than inappropriate.

"Coffee for the boss," she announced, setting one mug in front of Lust. "And for our matchmaking prodigy." She handed me the second mug with a wink. "Heard you're collecting your first paycheck today. Planning a splurge?"

"Grocery shopping," I admitted, inhaling the rich coffee aroma. "I've been living on Diana's charity long enough."

"Living well is the best revenge," Thea quipped. "But maybe add something fun to your list. A girl deserves a treat after out-performing her boss in her first few weeks." She glanced at Lust with a mischievous smile.

Lust made a sound suspiciously like a growl. "Don't you have calls to return, Thea?"

"Always so grumpy before his second coffee," she stage-whispered to me, then sashayed toward the door. "Oh, the Carmichael file is on your desk. She specifically requested Juniper handle her case–said she heard about the mixer's success from Vivienne."

When she was gone, a small, satisfied smile spread across my face. Lust noticed and rolled his eyes. "Yes, you're brilliant. We're all very impressed. Go buy your groceries before your head gets too big to fit through the door."

I stood, tucking the envelope securely into my handbag. "I'll see you on Monday. Maybe by then you'll have reconsidered my digital filing proposal."

"Don't count on it," he called after me, but there was no bite to his words. As I closed the door, I could have sworn I saw him reach for one of the folders, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips.

Outside, the town was coming to life beneath a pristine blue sky washed clean by morning light.

The main street stretched before me, lined with maple trees dressed in their first flush of tender green leaves.

Tulips nodded in planters along the sidewalks, their cups collecting sunlight in vibrant yellows and pinks.

I savored the simple pleasure of walking freely, my paycheck secure in my bag, my future—uncertain as it was—at least temporarily my own to shape.

I paused to consider my route. The farmers' market would be setting up in the town square, and the thought of fresh produce and artisanal goods after weeks of making do was irresistible.

The square bustled with activity – vendors arranging colorful displays of fruits and vegetables, the scent of fresh bread and flowers mingling in the air.

I moved through the stalls slowly, savoring the sensory feast. After the stark terror of Xavier's betrayal and the ghostly emptiness of the days following my escape from the grave, the vibrant life surrounding me felt like a miracle.

An older woman smiled at me from behind a display of strawberries and blackberries. "First time at the market?"

"Is it that obvious?" I asked, picking up a basket of the bright red berries and inhaling its sweet scent.

"You have that look." She chuckled. "Like you're memorizing everything. Seasonal shopping is an art form around here."