Page 13 of Witching You Weren't Snowed In
Traits I knew he wished I embodied. In some twisted form, this plan would endear me to him in a way just being his son never had. Some fathers take their sons fishing, others teach them the art of corporate takeover. Now here I was, using nefarious business tactics to hijack Sage’s help.
Apple, say hello to the tree you fell from.
Valerie, in true minion form, had texted Suzanne to get Sage’s location. Now we were following Sage around the store, trying to get intel. But unless she forgets to scan an item at self-checkout, I wasn’t sure what secrets we were supposed to uncover.
Though I noticed one thing. Valerie might be the one in enormous sunglasses, but Sage acted as if she wanted a pair too. She was hiding from people. Which didn’t make sense. She should be high-fiving our old science teacher, and waving like a pageant queen on a float while she wheeled down the bread aisle.
“I think she’s leaving,” Valerie whispered from behind a gossip magazine she’d swiped from a passing rack. “We should get in line or we’ll never get out of here in time to follow her to the next location.”
“Follow her to the next location? You sound like a private investigator gone rogue. Next time, wear your fake mustacheand fedora. Except there won’t be a next time because this is stupid, and I’m going back to the lodge to come up with a rational plan. Alone.”
Valerie curled her lip in contempt and spitefully turned the page of her magazine. “This plan has many layers. It’s like an onion. Trust in the process.” She dumped the magazine into the cart and winked when another register opened and everyone in front of us moved over, clearing a path in Sage’s line. “Grab me a candy bar when it’s your turn. All this villainy has made me hangry. Oh, and I almost forgot, your skis are ready. Don’t forget to pick them up. I’ll meet you back at the lodge.”
Then she was gone, sliding through the crowd and disappearing into the parking lot. I met Sage’s gaze across the empty gap in the line. It was too late to grab Valerie’s magazine and feign interest. Instead, I wheeled the cart behind Sage and nodded a greeting, trying to appear casual.
“Who’s stalking who?” Sage muttered, peering into my cart and scanning the items. Two types of cheese and a tabloid. Her eyebrow raised. “You came here just for that?”
“No.” I cleared my throat, feeling heat climb my neck. “I need a chocolate bar, too. Can you pass me one from the candy rack?”
Sage hesitated as if my sugary request might be some elaborate grocery store ambush.
“Sure. Why not? I could use some chocolate therapy myself. It wasn’t in the article, but I’m sure it was an oversight.” She reached for the candy bar and grabbed one for herself.
“Article?”
“Never mind.”
Sage passed me the candy bar, and our fingers touched. She pulled away, wiping her hand on her jacket like she had in the tea shop. My features drew together. That had to stop. She wasn’t the only one still wounded from the incident in our past. We might not be friends anymore, but I was still a human being. It was hard enough being despised by everyone in town. But Sage, too?
Unacceptable.
The line moved, and Sage stacked her groceries on the conveyor belt.
Think Grayson! Say something engaging.Talking to women had always come easy because it never mattered what I said. Money talks fine on its own, and I wasn’t being conceited, but I considered myself fairly attractive.
Sage acted as if I looked like a troll, and it was doing a number on my attempts at witty banter. A situation where I normally shined.
“Truffle butter, huh? Whatever happened to the kind in the plastic tubs?” I joked as Sage set an odd-looking glass jar of butter on the belt.
Her lips twitched against her will, and I was pretty sure my heart expanded inside my chest.
Not too bad for a troll.
“So, big plans for Thanksgiving?” I asked as Sage bagged her groceries. One truffle butter joke hadn’t been enough to break down her walls.
“Just dinner with my parents.” She swiped her card through the reader so fast it beeped angrily and she had to do it twice.
“Yeah. I have big plans too. Some friends are throwing a dinner party. Thanks for asking.” Sage narrowed her eyes at me, but I kept talking, glancing at the items in my cart. “I’m gonna whip up a baked brie. Make some mozzarella Caprese.”
“And do a little light reading?” Sage said, mocking my tabloid.
“Gotta keep up with those celebrity scandals. It makes for great dinner conversation.”
“I bet. Good luck with your brie.” Sage grabbed her groceries and made a beeline for the parking lot.
Seriously, why did every woman in my life run for the hills the second they got the chance? Was it my aftershave? I thought women loved citrus and spice.I’m switching to pine.
“Can you scan a little faster?” I asked the teenage clerk, who’d stopped to read the cover of my tabloid. As lame as this plan was, being around Sage was a nice distraction from my almost certain business failure.