eliza
I sipped my hot cocoa, heavy on marshmallows and Kahlua, and waited for my sister to speak. Dad seemed to be doing the same. He wore the robe I’d gotten him for his birthday last year, a heavy, silk dressing gown embossed with dragons. I caught his eye and wondered if he, too, dreaded hearing this. If it involved Celeste, it could not be good.
“It started with the tigers,” said Amanda, a frown on her face. She lifted one finger and looked toward the ceiling. “Wait. No. It started with Celeste sneaking a man named Solomon O’Sullivan into the studio in our house to hear me sing.”
“Solomon O…who?” asked Dad, a perplexed frown on his face.
“O’Sullivan. His friends call him Sully. He doesn’t like it, though.”
As her words sank in, I scowled. “Hold on. She let him in without your knowledge? And you had no idea he was listening to you at the time?”
“I didn’t find out until much later, and by then it was too late.”
“Oh, no. What kind of song, Amanda?”
My sister put her face in her hands, so her reply came out muffled. “Oh, you know. Worst case scenario.”
“A love song? Why would she do something like that? Your mother knows the consequences.”
“That isn’t all she did, unfortunately.”
My father groaned. “Just tell us, Amanda. Please.”
“She also forged my signature on a contract for a big show in Vegas and accepted a large advance from Solomon as part of the agreement. He’s the one producing the show. Frank is his uncle.”
“Frank?”
“I believe he’s Celeste’s current…” My father cleared his throat as he searched for the word. “Boyfriend?”
“Yes. And my mother cashed the advance without my knowledge. The money came from Solomon and his associates.” She said the last word using air quotes. “They were mobsters. I have a feeling all of his associates are mobsters, too.”
“Wait. Frank is in the mafia?” I asked, reaching for more Kahlua. I didn’t bother pouring it into my cocoa. I drank it straight from the bottle.
Amanda shook her head. “Frank is an insurance salesman. It’s Solomon and the rest of his family who are family,” she said, using air quotes again.
“Okay, you have to stop doing that thing,” said Dad, demonstrating the air quotes. “And you have to tell us the rest. What about the stalker?”
“That’s Solomon.”
I closed my eyes, a tension headache coming on. “You’re being stalked by Solomon O’Sullivan?”
“He heard me sing. You know how it goes.” She bit her lip and stared at her cup of cocoa. Only one sad, lonely marshmallow remained, floating on the top. “And now he keeps texting me and calling me and telling me I have to do what he says. It’s freaking me out.”
The situation with Solomon freaked me out, too, but I tried to remain calm. It took nearly superhuman effort.
“And once again, we can trace the problem right back to Celeste,” I said. “As always.”
“It’s hard for her,” said Amanda. “She can’t sing anymore, and she doesn’t want me to have regrets, like she did.”
I patted her arm. “I know you love your mother, but the nodules on her vocal chords are not your fault. Also, she can’t sign contracts in your name or force you to do anything you don’t want to do.”
Her eyes filled with worry. “But I don’t want her to get into trouble, legally or with the mafia.”
I let out a sigh. Even after Celeste did this to her, my sister still tried to protect her.
“She makes her own problems, Amanda, but we’ll do our best to keep her from getting into this even deeper.”
My father frowned. “I’m still confused about the tigers.”
“The tigers were Solomon’s idea. He collects big cats. He wanted the show to be called ‘The Dragon and the Tigers.’ The idea was to have tigers on stage with me as I sang, and I’d wear the Vegas showgirl version of a dragon costume.” She lifted her hands to indicate a large headpiece.
When I saw the expression on my father’s face, I didn’t say a word. I handed him the Kahlua and he took a long sip directly from the bottle . His shoulders sagged with exhaustion. Once again, Celeste had created a huge problem, and it was up to us to clean it up.
“Well, we can’t solve any of this right now,” he said, getting slowly to his feet. “It’s late. We should go to bed. I guess we’ll have to figure it out in the morning. Goodnight girls.”
“Goodnight,” we replied.
“He’s right. We’ll sort things out tomorrow,” I said. “Are you okay?”
She nodded, her expression sad. “I’m just sorry to get you involved in all of this.”
I kissed the top of her head. “That’s what we’re here for, pumpkin.”
We went to our rooms, but I barely slept. I kept picturing my sister on stage, with live tigers, and wearing pasties for some reason. Maybe I’d been spending too much time with strippers lately.
In the morning, Amanda had already left for the office by the time I woke up, but it didn’t matter. I had to head straight to the courthouse for a trial anyway. The magistrate was an old friend of mine, Judge Cole. He smiled when he saw me.
“Another day, another divorce,” he said, keeping his voice low. “Are you planning to go easy on this one?”
I snorted, glancing over at the respondent Dr. Dennis Toffice, a small, pale man in a white coat. My client, Renee Toffice, was the appellant. Dennis had already annoyed me, first with his cheating ways, secondly with his obnoxious attitude, and thirdly with his choice of clothing. He most likely thought wearing his white coat with the words D. Toffice, DMD embroidered above the pocket in red letters would remind us he was a dentist and be intimidating. He was wrong, and I would destroy him.
“What was that word you used last week? When you regret something before it happens.
I grinned at him. “Pregrets?”
“Yes. Do you have any pregrets about what you’re about to do at all?
I gave him a wink. “Hey. I have a reputation to uphold. If I don’t make all the husbands cry, I’m not doing my job.”
“Oh, brother. I should have called in sick.”
“But we have so much fun together.”
He glanced over my shoulder at Dr. Toffice. “He looks like a crier. Let’s get this over with.”
Dr. Toffice worked at a shady dental clinic in the South Side. He was already under investigation by several insurance companies for fraud. Apparently, he’d performed a bunch of unnecessary root canals in order to afford a car for his mistress. The mistress split, driving away in the shiny new Cadillac he’d purchased for her. His wife, Renee, filed for divorce the next day.
Renee, a Zumba instructor, sat by my side. She was a big, strong, beautiful woman, and I had no idea how she ended up married to a scrawny, weak, unfaithful guy. She could snap Dr. Toffice like a twig. I had to give her points for not doing so already. I would have been tempted, but Renee maintained her composure and she was reasonable. She wanted the house and full custody of their two-year-old son. Nothing more.
I had bigger plans. I also wanted her to have half of Dr. Toffice’s pension, all of his savings, and the title for the car he purchased for his mistress. In the end, I succeeded. I got almost everything I wanted for her, except the car. In lieu of the vehicle itself, we agreed to accept the cash value of the Cadillac. It only seemed fair. And the judge awarded her just half of her ex-husband’s savings, but I was okay with that, too.
“Well, you lived up to your reputation this time, Ms. Dragonsong,” said Judge Cole as he watched Dr. Toffice curl up on the floor in fetal position.
The dentist did indeed look even more pathetic than usual. “Make her stop,” he begged. “Make her go away. She’s evil.”
The judge somehow managed to keep a straight face. “Good luck. I’ve been trying to make her go away for years. It’s better if you just shut up and take it.”
I tried not to laugh, thanked the judge, shook the hand of the opposing counsel, and left the courtroom with Renee. She stared at me in bemusement. “You were amazing. Thank you, Ms. Dragonsong.”
Renee’s mother waited outside the room with Renee’s son. A cute kid, he took after his mother, with the same dark hair and eyes. It was a good thing. Dr. Toffice left a lot to be desired, both on the outside and on the inside.
I said goodbye, keeping the happy picture of Renee with her son in my mind, and walked outside. I had just enough time to stop at the Hocus Pocus Magic Shop on my way back to the office and pick up a scrying mirror for Ivan. He’d need it for his first lesson.
Smiling, I walked past all the shops I knew and loved. Wicked Wienies with their yummy hot dogs. The Enchanted Garden Café with its fantastic baked goods and serene outdoor space. The Black Lotus Tattoo Parlor which wasn’t open yet this morning. The owner, Cat, scheduled mostly evening appointments. Secondhand Sally’s wasn’t open yet either, which seemed unusual. I frowned as I noticed the sign on the door reading “Family emergency. Closed until further notice.” I’d heard rumors about a shooting involving Sally’s younger sister. I hoped everyone was okay. Sally sold the most beautiful vintage gowns, and Sally herself was a treasure, too.
But of all the stores in the South Side, the Hocus Pocus Magic Shop was one of my favorites. The owner, Madame Lucinda, kept all the supplies our coven needed, but she wasn’t a witch. Her niece, Grace, however, was a different story. A Ph.D. candidate for chemistry, Grace possessed a special kind of magic, but her scientific mind couldn’t quite embrace it. Not yet, at least. But once she came out of the broom closet, she’d be a formidable witch indeed.
“Good morning, Eliza,” Grace said. “What can I help you with?”
She was taking down the last of the decorations from the Halloween party as she spoke. An annual event, it always took place at the Hocus Pocus Magic Shop right after our Samhain celebration ended. This year had been especially exciting, since Ivan tried to steal the Dragon Rouge in the middle of the festivities. And now I was here shopping for him.
“I need a scrying mirror. For a friend.”
She wiped her hands on a towel. “Sure. We have a large selection. Follow me.” She led me to the area where they kept their scrying mirrors, conveniently located next to the crystal balls, and, oddly enough, the racoon penis bones. I’d never used a racoon penis bone myself, but they were a powerful part of Appalachian magic. Since Pittsburgh was close to the Appalachians, some of these traditions ended up here.
Madame Lucinda entered from the back of the shop, limping slightly as she favored her bad leg. She wore a black scarf tied at a jaunty angle over her bright red hair, and dangling broomstick earrings. “Oh, hello, Eliza.”
“Good morning. Did you enjoy the Halloween party?”
“I did. Well, until Ivan Trabuski showed up and tried to steal the dragon box. He nearly ruined everything. I think that man needs to be taught a lesson, if you know what I mean.”
“Oh?” I already intended to teach him one, but Madame Lucinda couldn’t know about my arrangement with Ivan.
Or could she?
“He also needs to stop stealing stuff. My husband, Anton, was his great uncle. Anton would roll in the grave if he knew what Ivan has been doing. I mean, if Anton were buried.”
I had no idea what she meant, and, judging by the expression on her face, neither did Grace. I tried to keep my tone nonchalant. “Does Ivan make a habit of stealing things?”
“That’s a good question. I know he used to, but it seems as if something in him has changed.”
“Since last weekend?” asked Grace with a snort. “I doubt that very much.”
Madame Lucinda shook her head. “I believe that was an anomaly. He seems a bit lost right now. He needs to find his path. I hope he chooses the right one, poor boy.”
Grace shook her head in disbelief. “Poor boy? A few weeks ago, you thought he tried to kill you.”
Her aunt waved away Grace’s words. “In retrospect, I don’t think he meant to push me down the steps at all. That was a big misunderstanding.” She let out a yawn, patting her mouth. “Sorry. I’m exhausted. I stayed up too late with my new boyfriend last night.”
Grace rolled her eyes. “Mr. Dalca is not your boyfriend. He’s over eighty years old.”
“He’s young at heart,” said Madame Lucinda, a twinkle in her blue eyes.
“No, he isn’t,” said Grace with a snort. “He’s a total curmudgeon.”
“I find his grumpiness sexy for some reason. I can’t explain it. Love can happen at any time, and sometimes it happens between the oddest people. Don’t you agree, Eliza?”
My eyes widened. “Why do you ask?”
She gave me a knowing smile, and it made me suspect she understood more than she let on. “Because you’re a divorce lawyer, naturally. You see exactly what happens when we fall in love with the wrong people. Unfortunately, you don’t have much to do with those who fall for the right person. Like Grace and her beau, Dario Fontana. Or me and my lover, Mr. Dalca.” She turned to Grace. “That’s the word you should use, my dear. He’s my lover. Just refer to him that way.”
Grace wrinkled her nose in disgust. Her aunt toddled off in search of a cup of tea. As soon as she was out of earshot, Grace whispered to me, “I think I just threw up in my mouth.”
I laughed and patted her arm. “It’s not so bad. At least she’s happy.”
“You’re right. Sorry. You came in for a scrying mirror, not family drama.”
“I love family drama. It’s what pays the bills,” I said, with a wink. I picked up the first scrying mirror that called to me and followed Grace to the cash register. Madame Lucinda joined us there. She set down her steaming cup of tea and wrapped my purchase in pretty, purple tissue paper before putting it in a paper shopping bag stamped on one side with the image of a witch on a broom.
As I waited for Madame Lucinda to finish packing the mirror up, the image of Ivan’s face in the moonlight came to me, unbidden. And something else came as well. An urge to leave immediately, walk out the door, and head to a different part of East Carson Street overtook me.
When I recognized what was happening, I cursed under my breath. “Rats and snails and puppy dog tails.”
Grace glanced at me in surprise. “Excuse me?”
“I have to go. I’m being summoned.” At the look of confusion on their faces, I backtracked. “I’ve been summoned. I mean, someone called me. You know. On the phone.”
Madame Lucinda eyed me with concern. “Are you okay, Eliza? Your cheeks are bright red, and you’re glistening.”
“Glistening?” I asked, wiping my forehead with the back of my hand, and pushing my hair off my face.
“Yes, glistening. Horses sweat. Men perspire. Women glisten.”
She was right. I was glistening. I was glistening so much in fact, I had to fan myself. “I’d better go. See you soon, ladies.”
Waving a quick goodbye, I walked out of the shop as fast as my four-inch heels would carry me. I was definitely being summoned. By Ivan Freaking Rochat.
How dare he?
I stopped in front of a shop, one I’d never noticed before. The freshly painted sign on the front read Treasures in an elegant script. The windows were covered in paper, so I couldn’t see inside, but a note posted on the front door said, “The ultimate experience in luxury for the serious collector. Coming soon.” It hung next to a bunch of yellow construction permits.
Although obviously not yet open for business, I noticed the lights on. I had a suspicion who I might find inside. I pulled on the handle of the door, and it opened. Thankfully, no alarms sounded.
I stepped inside and the door closed behind me. “Hello?”
The interior was gorgeous, and I gazed around in wonder. This was no ordinary place. My attention hopped from item to item, each more beautiful and precious than the last. I put down my briefcase, jacket, and the bag from the Hocus Pocus Magic Shop, and strolled through the showroom, admiring an impressive collection of art and antiques as classical music played in the background.
At the back of the shop, Ivan sat at a large, ornate desk, staring at his laptop. When he looked up and saw me, his jaw dropped.
“Eliza? What are you doing here?”
I glared at him. “You know exactly what I’m doing here. You summoned me.”
“I summoned you?” His bright blue eyes widened in confusion. Last night, in the darkness, I’d thought they were the color of a stormy sea, but they weren’t. They reminded me of a cloudless sky on a sunny day.
“Yes, you summoned me.” When I realized he had no idea what I was talking about, I felt a sinking sensation in my stomach. “Didn’t you?”
I studied him. His fair hair hung long and loose and brushed against the expensive fabric of his suit. His jacket was grey, and his shirt a pale blue. He didn’t wear a necktie, so I could see the golden column of his throat and a bit of the smooth skin of his chest. How did he have a tan in November in Pittsburgh? Could that golden hue be his normal color?
When it occurred to me that I’d been staring at his sternum for an unusually long period of time, I folded my arms over my chest and attempted to look haughty. It wasn’t easy.
“I don’t think I did,” he said. “I don’t know.”
I groaned. This was worse than I suspected. “Please don’t tell me you summoned me by accident.”
He lifted his hands, palms up. “I was just sitting here thinking about you, and a few minutes later you appeared in front of me. Poof.”
“Poof?”
“Yes, poof.”
I tilted my head to one side. “You expect me to believe you called me here just by thinking about me?” Another idea occurred to me. “Wait. Why were you thinking about me?”
His cheeks flushed. “Because you have the Dragon Rouge, of course.”
He had a cleft in his chin and an extremely sexy accent. Was it German?
“And you were coming up with a plan to steal it, I suppose.”
“One cannot steal one’s own property,” he said, his voice tight and controlled. I heard an undercurrent of anger and frustration beneath his words. “It is my legacy. It belongs to me.”
“The police would beg to differ.” I frowned. “Why aren’t you in hiding or something? The police are looking for you. You’re going to get arrested.”
His eyes met mine for the briefest moment. Embarrassment flickered in their blue depths, but it disappeared quickly, and the bored, sardonic expression returned.
“That was nothing more than a big misunderstanding.”
“Oh, I see. So, it’s okay to pick a lock and break into someone else’s place of business? From what I understand, that’s what you did at Madame Lucinda’s shop.”
He ran a hand through his blond hair, and I had to admit it was glorious. Even mussed and irritated, he still managed to look like a GQ model. Unfortunately, his personality didn’t match his exterior.
“You are the most annoying person I’ve ever met,” he said, lifting his hands in disgust. “You’re jumping to conclusions like a teeny rabbit, and you don’t know the whole story.”
I wrinkled my nose at his analogy. As soon as I realized wrinkling my nose might make me look more like a rabbit, I narrowed my eyes instead. “Okay. Tell me the whole story.”
“That’s difficult.”
“Will you at least answer a few of my questions?”
“I shall, but it depends on the questions. And how many.”
“Five.”
He indicated a chair with one hand. “Sit down and I shall answer your five incredibly important questions.”
I perched on the edge of the chair. “This is your store?”
“Yes. We’re not officially open yet. What do you think?”
“It’s impressive.” My gaze immediately went to a gilt and rosewood piece of furniture displayed on a raised platform. “Wait, is that a Chippendale commode?”
“It is.” A smile tugged at the corners of Ivan’s lips. “I see you’re a connoisseur.”
“An art history major obsessed with antiques.”
“Then we have something in common,” he said.
Mr. Dalca had been right. Ivan was dangerously charming.
“I don’t understand what you’re doing here. Why would you open a shop like this in the South Side? Why not New York or London?”
“I have my reasons,” he said. “And most of my items are sold via online auction anyway. I can be anywhere I want.”
I stared at him. “And you chose the South Side?”
“That was question number five.”
“No, it wasn’t—”
“And I’ll answer it, but is it really such a mystery? You chose the South Side, too.”
“I’m from here. This is home for me. And I don’t understand how you’re walking around, bold as brass, when the police are looking for you. Speaking of which, I should call the cops. You’re a wanted…wait, is that a Ming Dynasty vase?” I got up to get a closer look. I searched for a price, but of course none was listed.
“Why don’t you?” he asked, his eyes on me.
“Why don’t I what?”
“Call the cops.”
His words got my attention. “Because it would take too much time. And I’m busy. And I don’t have any evidence you’ve committed an actual crime. It’s only hearsay.”
His gaze swept over me. “You look different today than you did last night.”
As I breathed in his sexy, spicy scent, suddenly I realized I needed to find a way to regain control of this situation.
“This has been fun, but I have to go,” I said as I marched to the front of the shop, and he followed me.
“Are you running away?”
“Of course not,” I said, annoyed. “I have work to do.” I was about to reach for my coat, but he grabbed it first.
“Allow me,” he said, holding it up so I could slip into it. As I shoved my arms into the sleeves, I planned to say something snarky in reference to his good manners, but he stopped me when he put his hands on my shoulders and leaned close. He stood behind me, his body only inches from mine, so near I felt it in every nerve ending, and I had a lot of nerve endings. This was bad. It got worse when I felt the warm whisper of his breath on my ear.
“We aren’t finished yet, Eliza Dragonsong. We still have much left to discuss.”
I attempted not to shiver with desire. It took everything in me, and I wasn’t proud to admit it. Ivan appealed to me on a primal level. A level I didn’t even know I had.
I turned and gave him my practiced lawyer face, an expression of bland indifference. “We do, Mr. Rochat, but don’t summon me again unless you mean it.”
He blinked at me, surprise and amusement coloring his features. “Are you threatening me, Eliza? I told you I didn’t do it on purpose.”
I lifted one finger into the air. “Which is why you’re dangerous. We’ll begin our lessons tonight. Come prepared.”
“Prepared for what?” he asked, shoving his hands into the pockets of his pants.
“For anything,” I said. “This will not be easy, for either of us.”
“You’re scaring me, Ms. Dragonsong.” He’d meant it as a joke, but I answered him seriously.
“Good. Because I’m scared as well.”