Total Rush Read Free Page B

for me.”
    â€œOkay.”
    They sat a few minutes more in silence. Gemma kept trying to picture more details of her dream man, but none were forthcoming. She glanced at Frankie hopefully.
    â€œSee anything?”
    â€œI see . . . I see . . . a big, steaming tostada on a plate.”
    Gemma sighed.
    â€œWhat about you?” Frankie wanted to know. “Anyone?”
    â€œSomeone tall, with kind blue eyes and a really good laugh.”
    â€œSounds promising.”
    Gemma reached forward and gently snuffed out the red candle.
    Frankie looked disappointed. “That’s it? No incantations? No flying monkeys? Nothing?”
    â€œFeel free to say an incantation if you want.”
    â€œThat’s your realm, Glinda, not mine.”
    â€œThen I guess the spell is complete.” Gemma hugged her knees to her chest. “Let’s just hope it worked.”

CHAPTER 02
    Riding her bike to work the next morning, Gemma was upbeat. With any luck, Mr. Right could walk into her life today.
    Her friends and family thought she was nuts to bike in the city, but for Gemma, nothing could beat watching the world pull past as she pedaled along, cutting her own, slow swath through the breeze. It was magic to be in motion, especially now that summer’s stifling humidity was finally beginning to fade into fall. Her attention was drawn to every attractive man she pedaled past—could the cute guy in the weathered bomber jacket be the future father of her children? What about that sandy-haired fellow with the cell phone glued to his ear? Maybe he had gorgeous blue eyes . . .
    Man watching made her reckless: Twice she nearly crashed into parked cars.
    Arriving at her store, she whipped off her helmet, shaking out her hair before unlocking the door and carefully wheeling her bike to the small storage room in the back. She had just lit a cone of juniper tree incense and put on a Brigit’s Kiss CD when the front door bell tinkled. Anticipation shot through her. Smoothing the front of her long, peasant skirt, Gemma perched as delicately as she could on the stool behind the counter, anxiously hoping she’d catch sight of her dream man.
    â€œHi.”
    The man standing before her was pale and weedy. His sunken chest was lost inside a wrinkled black T-shirt with BLESSED BE in large white letters across the front. Hanging limply from his chin was a long, straggling blond beard. Yes, he had blue eyes—but they were the color of washed-out denim, not a Caribbean ocean. Gemma’s heart sank. Sometimes, what you wanted and what the universe decided to send you were two very different things. Still, she managed to come up with a smile. “Hello. May I help you?”
    The man reached into his pocket, handing her a crumpled newspaper clipping. It was the ad she’d placed in the Village Voice offering tarot classes. It was a way to help offset the costs of her ever-spiraling store rent.
    â€œYou’re interested in learning tarot?”
    The man nodded.
    â€œWhat’s your name?”
    â€œUther.”
    Gemma bit her lip. In her opinion, telling strangers your name was Uther or Gwyddion or Raven only gave the public more ammunition for not taking witchcraft seriously. She knew it was a person’s right to use their Craft name publicly, but still.
    â€œUther what?” she prompted.
    â€œAbramowitz.”
    â€œUther Abramowitz,” Gemma repeated thoughtfully. Was it possible the universe had sent her someone named Uther Abramowitz to love? If so, she was going straight home and dismantling her altar. She extended a polite hand across the counter. “I’m Gemma Dante.”
    Uther’s grasp was limp, like a wet sock. The urge to bundle him up and hustle him to the deli for some minestrone soup was strong. “What do you do?” Gemma prodded.
    â€œI write computer code.”
    Gemma smiled. Lots of Pagans held high-tech jobs. She wasn’t sure why.