Page 8 of Wynter

“I’m not worried.” Even though, between the two of us, I have a hell of a lot more reason to be.

If the Cleanly Den starts losing clients, Amber’s mate will fire me long before he goes out of business. Assuming things ever get that far. And even if they do, Amber could easily support him. Last I heard, business at Jewels Cafe was booming and there was even talk of a franchise.

Meanwhile, I’m living paycheck to paycheck. Fewer clients means falling behind on rent. And if I lose my job… well, I don’t even want to think about that. Not when I’ve finally realized it’s what I want to do for the rest of my life.

Okay, yeah, I know how crazy that sounds. No one has their life figured out at twenty-four. And no one wants to be a maid forever. Well, no one except me. This is my dream job and I won’t let anything happen to the Cleanly Den.

Plus, there’s one thing that Amber doesn’t know. One thing that no one in Silver Springs knows: I’m not just your typical, fun-loving, magical maid.

Okay, fine. I am just your typical, fun-loving, magical maid—but I wasn’t always one. And just because I only lasted two years at the agency, doesn’t mean I wasn’t good at my job. Or that I can’t help catch one measly small-town thief who’s going to pay for what they’ve done.

“Just humor me, okay?” I ask Half-Troll, Half-Yeti Amber. “I’m taking notes. I’ll share them with the detective and save him tons of time.”

Assuming he even knows what he’s doing. For all I know, Julian hired some kid with zero experience. Or some burnt-out detective who doesn’t give a damn about helping us.

Yeti Amber hesitates for a few seconds and then shrugs. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to—” She shifts into a mouse.

I sigh.

I could wait for her to shift into a form that can talk, but who knows how long that will take… or last. So I glance at the notes on my phone and start going over what she’s told me so far. “At Buttercup’s Bakery, the thief took all the change from the register, a bunch of savory treats, and…”

“A cupcake. Don’t forget the cupcake,” Violet Amber finishes. Not the flower, violet, but her younger sister, Violet. Though at this point, nothing would surprise me.

“A cupcake.” I shake my head. “I know Buttercup’s treats are delicious, but what kind of thief steals a mini quiche, garlic knots, some crackers, and a cupcake?”

“A hungry one?” Julian asks as he steps inside the cafe.

The moment I see him, my heart stops.

Not Julian. Obviously. Amber’s mate has never made my heart stop. He’s never even come close.

Okay, fine, there was the one time, but definitely not like that.

About a month ago, Amber and I had been hanging out at Jewels Cafe when Julian botched up a Hot Cocoa spell. Again. Typical Julian. You’d think he’d stop casting entirely by now, but as Amber’s ankle goes to show, the guy just keeps on trying.

Amber and I had been talking about the new skating rink one moment, and the next… bam! Suddenly, glass was flying everywhere. Made both our hearts stop… and then some.

If my training hadn’t kicked in—and I don’t mean my magical maid training, either—our hearts would have literally stopped. As in dead. Or, at the very least, human hedgehogs with glass quills, chugging painkiller vials by the dozen and watching our powers go haywire.

But one flick of my wrist did the trick. The glass froze in mid-air, like a magical display of snowflakes twinkling under the fluorescent lights. Guess my time at St. Vincent’s Academy was good for something. Well, something other than a job I quit two years in.

The job in question? Hated it. Wanted to quit from the start and never regretted leaving. Not until today. Because I’d much rather apprehend a deranged vampire scientist or the leader of an underground troll ring than face the man who saunters into Jewels Cafe behind Julian.

Terence. I almost say his name aloud. A name Terentius White never let anyone use but me. Not our other classmates. Not even our teachers. Just me.

He made me feel special. Like I meant something. Like we meant something. But it was all a lie.

Don’t think about it, Zoe! Focus on levitating before you fall flat on your face!

I take a deep breath and stare at Terence like I’ve seen a ghost. Though technically, I have. Not because he’s dead, though I kind of wish he were. Okay, maybe not dead, dead. But missing a limb. Or at least a pinkie.

Either way, he’s dead to me. That and it’s what everyone else called him. Ghost. Though he is the furthest thing from pale. Dark skin, dark hair, dark eyes. He looks exactly like I remember him, and nothing like it. Older. Harsher. More unforgiving. Scratch that. Unforgivable. Because after what he did…

He pulls off his winter gear, and my brain short-circuits. First his hat, revealing hair cropped short, not long and unruly like I remember. Then gloves, with all ten fingers still intact. What? A girl can dream.

He takes off his coat next, and that dream? It starts to feel more like a nightmare. The kind that starts with Cleanly Den clients getting robbed and ends with a hotter-than-ever Terence. No, scratch that. Ghost.

The muscles underneath his sweater bulge, and I get this sudden urge to peel it off. Only out of curiosity. Morbid curiosity. Because I’m not attracted to him. Nope. Not one bit. I’ve ridden on the Ghost train once. Had a one-way ticket to Heartbreak Town. I do not need a repeat.