Page 1 of Hex Appeal

ONE

SERENA

There are already three people waiting outside the store when I flip the sign to “OPEN.”

I smile to myself—and then to them—as I usher them inside. Not bad for a Monday morning. Not bad for a little shop that only opened a few months ago.

“Hey, Miss Serena,” Ivy greets me while adjusting the strap of the book bag slung over her shoulder. She’s a high school student who stops by a couple times a week to sniff the latest scents and revisit some of her favorites. “Do you still have any of those candles that help me focus when I study?”

“You’re in luck. I poured a fresh batch of rosemary and mint last week, so they’re set and ready to burn.” I tilt my head to the side. “Do you have another test already?”

She reaches for one of the candle jars, opens the lid, and takes a deep breath. Her eyelids flutter in contentment before she sighs.

“Two tests,” she says, taking another whiff. “And a paper due on Friday for AP English.”

“No rest for the wicked smart, I guess.”

I wince inwardly. Did I really say that out loud? I swear, I feel less cool every day I inch closer to forty. Maybe I should look up some of the lingo today’s kids are using so I can stay relevant.

Then again…

A memory of my dad saying “let’s get lit” in front of all my friends when he plugged in an inflatable pumpkin in our front yard pops into my head. I. Was. Mortified.

It was almost as embarrassing as when he kept wearing his Magnum PI short shorts to mow the lawn until they “shrank in the wash.”

Maybe I—and my vocabulary—should age gracefully.

Leaving Ivy, and my dreams of staying hip and now, I turn to another customer.

Pam was one of my mom’s closest friends when they were growing up. After Mom moved away, she looked after my grandma in our absence. Now that my sister and I are here in Gran’s old house running our new business, she’s carried on her mission with us.

“What can I help you find today?” I ask.

“Oh, I’m just looking.” Pam waves me off before immediately picking up another candle. “Although my daughter has that job interview Wednesday.”

“Ah.” I reach past her and pluck another candle from the shelf. “Then you want this one.”

“Confidence?” Pam turns the jar around to read the label.

“Bergamot for success and opportunity,” I recite out loud from memory. “Rosemary for a clear head, and cedar to keep her grounded when the nerves kick in.”

She raises an eyebrow. “And does it work?”

“If she lights it before the interview, walks in there knowing she belongs, and remembers to answer the questions to the best of her abilities? Absolutely.”

Pam laughs. “So the magic is her.”

“That’s usually how it works.” I return her smile. “The best magic is in all of us.”

I see signs of that every day. Especially here.

The town has embraced Spellbound with surprising enthusiasm. And, well, I couldn’t be happier. I love my little shop and Valerie’s bar. And I love the big dreams it’s letting us live.

Six months ago, people said I was crazy. My parents. My friends. My co-workers.

Once upon a time, I might have agreed with them. I mean, how many women in their late thirties quit a job with benefits and stock options to sell candles full time?

My grandma and sister were the only ones who didn’t laugh when I told them my idea.