The Matchbaker (A Romantic Comedy) Read online

  The line goes silent. I know it’s so unlike me to ask for advice from my mother—I’m more inclined to call Lucy. But Luce can’t help me with this one.

  When she doesn’t respond, I keep going. “You see, I may have made a teensie weensie mistake, and now I’m not sure what to do about it.”

  “Candy, if you put flour in the icing, you’re going to have to throw the whole batch out. You can’t serve raw flour to customers.”

  I roll my eyes. “Could you please stop jumping to conclusions? I didn’t put flour in the icing. I’m pretty sure what I did was much worse…”

  I tell her about the cupcakes I made especially for Colin, and she’s completely silent the entire time. Which makes me really nervous. My stomach is in a million knots.

  “Mom, are you there?” I ask when the story is done.

  “I’m here,” she says, her disappointment loud and clear. “I must say, first of all, that I’m very disappointed in you.” See? “You’re not a teenager. You’re a grown woman—you should know better than to use your powers so carelessly.”

  “Excuse me,” I interrupt. “But maybe if you would have given me a few more clues about what the hell was happening to me, and maybe even a little time to get used to the idea, I wouldn’t have felt compelled! I had to learn about all this from Mrs. Shoemaker, by the way. I may be a grown woman, but I’m a newborn witch. Or whatever I am.”

  Mom breathes in sharply and lets it out on a sigh. “I expected you to act with a little more caution. I thought not telling you everything might make you a bit more careful, but apparently I was wrong.”

  My pulse has calmed. None of that matters anymore. I just need a solution. “So what do I do?”

  “There’s no need to panic, really,” she finally says. “The spell should wear off within a week. Its length depends on the strength of your emotions at the time of conception. As long as you didn’t do something as stupid as binding the spell, he’ll snap out of it by week’s end and you can patch things up with Holly then.”

  I close my eyes and release the breath I’ve been holding ever since I gave him that damned cupcake. It’ll be a mess to clean up next week, but we’ll get through it. Maybe I can even make a Fughettaboutme cupcake for Holly so she won’t remember a thing.

  “Great! Thanks so much, Mom,” I say, and then something that she said registers. “Hey, what did you mean by ‘binding the spell’?”

  “Hold on, sweetie.” I hear her talking to Dad in the background. “Candy, Dad says hi. I have to go now—shuffleboard in ten. You wouldn’t believe how good your father is!”

  “Wait, Mom! Binding the spell. What does that mean?”

  I can tell she’s getting flustered because she’s doing that high-pitched hemming and hawing—clearly she’s worried about being late for shuffleboard, but I have to know what she meant.

  “I’m coming,” she says to Dad, then to me, “As long as you don’t kiss him, the spell will wear off on its own. Yes, dear, I’m coming! All right, sweetheart, we’ll talk soon. I love you!”

  I stare at the phone, my heart in my throat. Oh, my God. Have I really bound the spell for all eternity?

  My stomach churns. I think I’m going to throw up. Not only have I ruined my sister’s life, but I may have ruined my own as well. The Colin I wanted was the Colin Holly had—the confident, fun-loving Colin. Not the desperate, puppy-faced Colin. But that’s what I’ve turned him into, and now there’s no way out of it. I could run far, far away, fall off the grid so he could never find me, but that wouldn’t solve much, would it? He still would never be in love with Holly again…or anyone, for that matter. Three lives would be completely ruined, all because of one stupid little cupcake.

  There must be a solution. There has to be.

  I look over at my computer sitting on the little desk I have down here in the basement. I’ve barely turned the thing on since I’ve been here—no need to. It’s not like I could Tweet to all my former work friends that I’m now a magical baker. I’d be laughed right out of Twitterverse. But maybe it can help me tonight.

  I power it on and pull up the Internet browser, then head straight to Google.

  How do you undo a spell?

  The first link I click on tells me to gather a candle, water and a black bowl, so I head up to the kitchen. All I can find are birthday candles and a green Fiestaware bowl, but they’ll have to do. I follow the instructions—melt the candle until it stands upright in the bowl, fill it with water, then meditate until it goes out. Unfortunately, I only get a third of the way in because the stupid candle won’t stand up in this stupid bowl.

  Whatever. That was to break a spell that someone put on me, but as far as I know, my life is a living hell just naturally.

  I bound back downstairs to the computer and look at the next link. That one requires way too many ingredients I’m certain I won’t be able to dig up at this time of night, so I keep going…and going…and going. Until I can hardly see the screen anymore. My vision is blurred and my head aches. However, when I see a link on page fourteen of my Google search that says, “Book of spells,” I feel my energy return.

  I click on it and read…

  Every witch should have a book of spells. Formulas they record and can pass down to their progeny in case they are unable to be present to teach them. These diaries are very important, especially if one’s powers are passed down through a bloodline, though many witches are reluctant to reveal the book to their offspring as oftentimes the book can open a whole new can of worms they are not prepared to handle. In this case, the elder witch may cast a spell on the book that will allow it to only be revealed when absolutely necessary.

  I stare in wonder at the article. A book of spells. Of course. Mom must have one around here somewhere, but why didn’t she tell me about it? Surely it could help me out of this predicament.

  I glance around, hoping the book will pop out from behind the wood paneling. But nothing happens. It’s silent, except for the low tones of nick@nite reruns playing on the TV. But I know she has one—she has to.

  With a newfound purpose, I bounce off the couch and take the stairs two at a time until I’m on the top floor, standing at the door to Mom and Dad’s bedroom. It’s open, of course, but I still have to fight the urge to knock. They’ve always been really strict about letting us in their bedroom, and I have the strangest feeling I’m going to get reprimanded for going in uninvited.

  That’s just silly, of course, since they’re on the other side of the world. At least I think they are—I never did ask where exactly they were right now.

  I click the bedside lamp on and rummage through the nightstand drawers, dressers, armoire and the little desk off in the corner, but I come up empty handed. Mom and Dad are quite meticulous. Their drawers are sparse and contain no more than a hotel drawer might: pen, notepad and a book. Romance novel for Mom; sci-fi for Dad.

  “Candy?”

  Startled, I look up to find my sister standing in the doorway to Mom and Dad’s bedroom. “God, Holly. Were you trying to give me a heart attack?”

  “Sorry…” She looks around, then focuses on me. “What are you doing in here?”

  I close my eyes and shake my head. “Looking for something that may not even exist. What else?”

  Holly narrows her eyes. “What are you talking about?”

  “I need a, um…book,” I say evasively.

  “Are we talking boring novel because I can’t sleep book? Or something more…interesting?”

  “The latter.” I can’t hide all this magic stuff from her—and I’m too tired to even try. “Listen, there’s something you need to know. It’s about the change.”

  “What? That you’re magical?”

  I stare at my sister, agog. “You knew?”

  She shrugs as if it’s no big deal. “I had a hunch. And Colin knows…kind of.”

  My head is spinning. “And no one wanted to tell me?”

  “Look, it’s not like we knew for sure, but it’s kind
of hard to grow up in this town without knowing something’s going on.”

  I’m going to ignore that statement since I grew up here and had absolutely no clue that it was apparently filled with magical folk.

  “Okay, so I guess we can fast forward to tonight and the book I’m looking for.” I don’t have to tell her why I need it, just that I need it. “I’m hoping Mom kept a book of spells. I may have messed up an order, and I’m not sure how to fix it.” It’s not a complete lie.

  “Have you checked under the mattress?”

  My eyes widen. “The mattress! Of course!” I hop off the bed and lift the mattress.

  I don’t see anything at first, but when Holly comes and helps me lift it just a little higher, I can see the corner of a book near the top of the bed.

  “Oh, my God,” I whisper. “You’re a genius.”

  “Can you just get it out?” Holly grunts under the weight of the mattress.

  I lean in and grab the book. It’s old and crackly, just like one would expect of a book of spells. The brown leather is worn and on the cover it reads Cooper in scrolly engraving. The pages crackle as I open them, as if the book hasn’t been used in decades. I flip through—every other page is a new spell as well as its counter spell, if there is one.

  “Wow,” Holly breathes over my shoulder. “I feel like I’m in a movie or an episode of Charmed.”

  “Welcome to my world.”

  “So what are you looking for?” she asks, and my pulse races.

  I should change the subject. “Hey, what are you doing here this late, anyway?”

  Holly shrugs and collapses back onto the bed. “This is a great bed,” she says. “I might just crash here tonight.”

  “In Mom and Dad’s room?”

  “Why not? They’ll never know. Besides…it’s not like I have anywhere else to go.”

  Her lower lip quivers a bit. I want to tell her so badly this is all my fault, and I’m going to fix it. But I can’t. Not yet. Because what if I can’t fix it? What if the spell reversal doesn’t work? Or even worse, what if there’s no spell at all?

  Sixteen

  I spent all night scouring the book of spells. All night. Now I can hardly keep my eyes open—I have no idea how I’ll get through the day. And it’s Thursday, which means there are a ton of special orders for the weekend, God help me. It’s almost worse than being hung over, and now I’m wishing I had thrown back a glass of pinot and called it a night. But I didn’t. So I stayed up reading until the sun broke on the horizon and it was time to get ready for work.

  At least the weather’s turned colder. The crisp air has been a fairly decent jolt to my system, but I need more. I need coffee. Buckets of it.

  “I’m going to Latte Joe,” I tell Holly as I pull into my parking space behind the bakery. “You want anything?”

  She sighs. “I guess. Large sugar-free mocha latte with an extra shot of espresso.” She wilts as if that took all her energy.

  “You okay?” I ask, eyeing her as we both emerge from the car.

  “Just exhausted is all.” She yawns. “Haven’t been sleeping much lately.”

  “Yeah, me neither,” I mumble. “I’ll be back in a few.”

  I walk around front and dash across the street, dodging the early-morning traffic, which includes three whole cars, until I reach the door and push inside.

  “We’re not open yet!” a male voice calls from the back.

  “Oh, sorry!” I yell back. “I’m Candy…from across the street. We usually pop over later for coffee, but it was a rough night and—”

  I’m brought up short when a tall, good-looking guy with dirty blond hair emerges from the back, drying his hands on a clean, white towel. He’s wearing a bit of a scowl, and I immediately get defensive.

  “You probably shouldn’t leave the door unlocked if you don’t want customers yet,” I say, dropping my perky smile.

  Blondie’s eyebrows shoot up. “You should probably read signs before you go barging into establishments at quarter to seven in the morning.”

  I turn around and look at the door. Damn. The OPEN sign is facing me, which means CLOSED is clearly broadcast to passersby.

  “Oh,” I say, embarrassed. “Sorry about that. I’ll come back, I guess.”

  He’s staring at me with a really annoying smirk on his face, as if he’s enjoying watching me dig my own hole.

  “I can make your coffee now,” he says.

  “Oh, really? After you reprimanded me?”

  “I wouldn’t call it a reprimand—”

  “Look, I had a long night. I just want some coffee, preferably without the snarky banter…if that’s even possible for you.”

  He contorts his lips this way and that, trying not to laugh at me—the jerk—as he says, “Snark-free coffee coming up!”

  As he’s pouring my simple cup of coffee, I remember that I’m supposed to get the sugar-free mocha latte—extra shot—for Holly. Crap. That’s a tall order when the place isn’t even open yet.

  “Here ya go,” he says as he slides the cup of coffee across the counter to me. “And it’s on the house.”

  I stare at him, shocked.

  “If you had taken the snark, I would have charged you.”

  He winks at me and my stomach flutters a bit. Maybe I’m just hungry.

  “Well, thanks.” I grab my coffee and bolt out of the shop. Holly can get her own beverage once the place is open. Or maybe I’ll run back across later and get it for her. It’s the least I can do after putting a spell on her boyfriend to make him fall in love with me.

  “What’s going on with that guy?”

  I jump, and hot coffee spurts from the mouth hole of the lid onto my hand as I trip off the curb into the street. “Damn it, Colin. What are you doing?”

  “Watching you flirt with another man first thing in the morning.” His voice is serious, like he’s just caught me red-handed.

  I turn around to face him. He looks like hell. “Did you sleep outside or something?”

  His eyes get a little shifty, and that sick feeling comes back in full force. “Oh, God,” I moan. “Please don’t tell me you slept outside my house all night.”

  “Technically, it’s your parents’ house.”

  “Technically, you’re stalking me,” I reply. “God, Colin, what were you thinking?”

  “I’m in love with you, Candy.” His voice is so creeptastic it makes my skin crawl. “I need to be with you. I was going to ask to come in but then Holly showed up.”

  “At which point you should have gone home.”

  “But I need to be near you.”

  I roll my eyes and then start off across the street toward the bakery. I can feel Colin close on my heels. Not only am I completely annoyed, but I’m starting to worry that he might do something stupid. Like make a declaration of love in front of Holly. Oh, God.

  “Colin, you have to back off. Please.”

  “But I thought you loved me too.”

  So did I.

  “Look, this has been really hard on Holly,” I say, dragging him a little further down the sidewalk so Holly won’t see us if she happens to be in the front part of the shop. “It’s just not the right time, okay?”

  “Then when?” He looks desperate with those damned puppy dog eyes again.

  Part of me feels really sorry for him—I did this to him, after all. And part of me wants him to go away, take the hint. Leave me alone. But the biggest part of me wishes I had never cast that damn spell to begin with.

  “I don’t know,” I say quietly. “I just don’t know.”

  My phone buzzes and I gladly whip it out of my pocket. It’s Holly. I hold it up for Colin to see, but he doesn’t even acknowledge what I’ve shown him. He just keeps staring at me, longingly.

  I turn away to answer. “Hey, Hol.”

  “Where’s my latte?” she asks without preamble.

  “Oh, God!” I fake being forgetful. “I totally forgot! They were closed and the guy was kind of a jerk—he
threw me all off. I’ll go back in, don’t worry about it.”

  I hang up and turn back to Colin. His eyes haven’t left my face. “I love you,” he says.

  “I know.” I glance across the street at the coffee shop then back at Colin. “I forgot Holly’s coffee, and I need you to get inside. I’m sure you have work you should be doing, don’t you?”

  “Not really.”

  “Right,” I say, exasperated. Clearly, he’s forgotten about everything but his obsession with me. “Well, go help out behind the counter today then. They could always use an extra pair of hands.”

  “Anything you want, Candy.”

  It’s possible he’s getting worse. Like, falling even deeper in love with me. Shit. I have to figure out the counter spell and soon.

  He walks into the bakery as I dart across the street to the coffee shop again. It’s seven now, and they are officially open.

  “Couldn’t stay away?” Mister Snark is still behind the counter, his blond waves seemingly blonder now that all the lights are turned on.

  I give him a tight smile. “Forgot to get something for my sister.”

  “Shoot,” he says, moving to the giant espresso machine.

  “Sugar-free mocha latte…with an extra shot.”

  He sets to preparing the latte. “So, let me guess. She’s your younger, higher-maintenance sister?”

  “What gives you that idea?” I ask playfully. “I didn’t catch your name, by the way.”

  “Joe,” he says simply, and his cheeks turn slightly pink.

  “As in Latte Joe?”

  “No, Latte Joe is my father. I just go by plain old Joe.”

  “Well, Plain Old Joe, I don’t think I’ve seen you around before.”

  Joe puts the lid on the latte and brings it to the counter. “That’s because I haven’t been around before. Not in a long time, at least. My dad is sick, though, so…here I am. Picking up the caffeinated torch.”

  “That’s nice of you. Coming back to fill in.”

  “I wish that’s all it was,” Joe says as he pushes away from the counter. “Dad’s not gonna get any better. I’m here to stay.”