Page 110 of Hexed & Hazy

I grin. “I don’t doubt it! It’ll be great for everyone. Fresh produce, tons of herbs, and Donnie will take good care of it. And hey, we’re both doing the work now.”

“Yes, you are.” She nods approvingly. “It’s good to see. You’ll still be working at the café, won’t you? It would be a terrible loss.”

“I’m doing both. Don’t worry.”

I’ll be helping Donnie out with the gardening, too, but I can’t help but worry that people don’t trust me as much. Donnie has been selling his flowers on Main Street for years, and they probably trust my taste in espresso more than anything.

But he promised to help me build my reputation.

“If you want to make a donation,” I say, smoothly transitioning, “all proceeds at any of the booths here go right to the community garden, or you can make a larger donation by scanning that code right there.”

She blinks. “Scanning a code?”

Right. She doesn’t know what that is. Lucky for her, I’m great at helping with tech support. I teach her to scan the code, but as soon as the website asks for her payment information, she buys a plant from Donnie instead.

Probably easier that way.

This is the happiest night I’ve had in weeks, ever since Rowan and I broke up. The days are easy. Now that I’m not looking for love, it’s easy to forget I’m still hexed. Probably hexed, at least. The nights, that’s when I miss her. It’s when my bed is too cold. The old urge to party, distract myself, fall into love with a stranger—that’s gone, and that almost makes it harder.

But it’s better this way, knowing we’ll be together again someday soon. It’s not like I’m missing anything. I could be like this forever, single and still loving Rowan, and be perfectly happy.

My only regret is that I never told her I love her, at least not in those words, but I hope she feels it.

Someone pokes my shoulder, and I turn, coming face-to-face with Farrah. We see each other enough at work, but she’s been a little distant lately—something I don’t realize until I hug her and she lets out a laugh that sounds… nervous? Blustery?

“Hey, man! I’m happy you could make it,” I say. “We have drinks and snacks over there. Ozan has some goods—you should definitely check them out⁠—”

“Um.” She pulls away. “I’m here for you, actually.”

I guess it makes sense that Farrah would want to support me in this, but I didn’t realize we were that close. There are plenty of other reasons to be here, anyway.

My brow furrows. “Oh…?”

Her face deepens to the darkest shade of red I’ve seen. I know it can’t be from the cold—it’s perfectly toasty.

“Not like that. I just mean—I have something to talk to you about. Something important. Something I didn’t want to talk about at work.”

I laugh, hoping to put her at ease. “I didn’t think you meant anything weird by it. No worries.”

She winces and looks away. “It’s… it’s about your hex. Rowan and Laurel told me about it.”

I blink at her. She frowns. Nods. Winces.

And… oh.

Just when I think the only thing to do is wait for the hex to expire, the answer comes and slaps me in the face. It’s difficult to believe Farrah Poole would hex anyone. She’s so sweet, good with the customers, and I rarely see her use her magic. Why would she hex me?

“Farrah… you?” I shake my head. “Was it for a friend, or something? Did someone pay you?”

I respect the hustle, I guess.

“No.” She bites her lower lip. “It was for me. I know that doesn’t make it any better, but I-I wanted you to know. Aspen has been teaching me how to break the hex, and we have a plan, but… you should still know.”

“I’m sorry… I’m just… not sure what to say.”

Someone passes and smiles at me, and all I can manage is a stiff nod.

Farrah’s voice drops. “It wasn’t supposed to be a hex. Not really. It was an… attraction spell. But it went wrong. And it kept going wrong.”