something fully prepared. Sheâd actually read through the entire spell twice and made a mental list of what she would need to cast it, and sheâd gathered her ingredients ahead of time, something she never did when cooking or, you know, packing. Normally she was a fly-by-the-seat-of-her-pants kind of girl, but she wanted to do this right. Otherwise, thereâd be no point in doing it at all.
The bookâs instructions were elaborate, but Randy had determination and a certain level of adrenaline on her side. Sheâd cleared off her cousinâs coffee table, a low, round expanse of mahogany that shone dark red in the light of the dozen flickering candles sheâd placed on its surface. Sheâd turned all the lights off, per the spell, even though that meant squinting to read the text in the uneven illumination of the candle flames.
On the plus side, the heat the candles threw out certainly kept the chill away.
Fidgeting in anticipation, she bent to the book and read aloud.
ââIn a shallow silver bowl full of moon-bright river waterâ¦â Check.â She pulled the stainless steel mixing bowl sheâd brought from the kitchen a little closer and poured water almost up to the brim. Cassidy would never miss those bottles of Evian, and seriously, where in Manhattan was someone supposed to get âmoon-bright river waterâ? The Hudson? Get real. The candle cast a nice little glow over the surface. That would do.
ââPlace seven scarlet petals from a fully bloomed red rose.â Check.â That one was easy. Quinn, bless his besotted heart, brought his wife flowers so often, his florist had named the latest baby after him. In fact, there were so many of the things around the apartment that Randy threw in an extra handful. Might as well do things right.
ââAdd half of what you need and of what you want a quarter, for love is never lasting that on whims of fancy grows.ââ
She glanced down at the two lists the spellbook had instructed her to make: one contained two columns of the things she thought she needed in a man; the other outlined in four corners of a second piece of paper all the things she wanted in a man. And she was just supposed to throw out most of these?
Yeah, right. No way was she giving up âsexy.â Especially not since sheâd put it on both lists.
She tossed the two complete lists into the bowl and watched the paper slowly darken and sink into the water, dragging rose petals down with it. Her heartbeat quickened.
ââTo the mix add heartsease and a single tear of Venusâ¦ââ
Okay, those had been challenging, since Randy wasnât sure what the hell either of them was supposed to be. Sheâd had to improvise. Venus, she knew, had been the goddess of love, the Roman equivalent of Aphrodite. She remembered vague stories from a unit on classical mythology in her high school English class, something about seduction and sensuality. After a moment of thought, sheâd settled on a drop of the very expensive perfume Cassidy kept on the top of her armoire. That had to be close, right? It made a certain amount of poetic sense to Randy, at least. Carefully, she tilted the bottle until one drop rippled the surface of the water.
Her substitute for heartsease was more prosaic. She threw in an antacid. It eased heartburn, didnât it?
ââA tablespoon of honey and a pinch of bitter teaâ¦ââ Easy-peasy, thanks again to Quinn in all his tea-swilling Irish glory. The two ingredients turned the water an interesting shade of gold, but maybe it was supposed to look that way?
ââA dash of salt to savorâ¦â Randy picked up the ceramic Tweety Bird salt shaker and bounced it vigorously over the bowl. ââAnd a bit of rue for patienceâ¦ââ
At this, she scowled. ââRueâ what? McClanahan?â
Wait, didnât to rue something mean to regret