Page 30 of Hex Appeal

“Are you always like this?”

“What? Super charming?”

“Annoying.”

She giggles, and it makes my chest clench. “Usually.”

She walks me through measuring the wax, explaining what she’s doing as we go. Temperatures. Ratios. Why different vessels need different wicks.

I came back here because I wanted to understand her process. I’m getting exactly what I asked for.

I’m also discovering that Serena knows her shit. There’s no guessing. No throwing ingredients together and hoping for the best.

She measures everything. Checks everything. Records everything.

She catches me looking at her notes. “Am I passing inspection?”

“I haven't decided.”

“Liar.”

I look at her. She looks unbearably pleased with herself.

“You've been doing everything right so far.”

She presses a hand dramatically against her chest. “Again with the compliments.”

“Don't get used to it.”

“Too late. I'm going to write this date in my diary.”

“This isn't a date.”

Her eyes meet mine. “No?”

I turn back toward the wax. “What now?”

She checks the temperature. “Fragrance.”

She leads me toward another worktable. This one is covered with small bottles.

“Pick something.”

“How?”

“Smell them.”

“All of them?”

“If you want.”

“There have to be at least fifty bottles here.”

“Way more than fifty.”

“Son of a…”

She laughs.