Wedding Bells and Deadly Spells: A Touch of Magic Mystery (A Touch of Magic Mysteries Book 3) by Danielle Garrett

Author:Danielle Garrett [Garrett, Danielle]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-04-11T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

I’d barely stepped foot back in my condo before my phone was ringing. I answered the call, not recognizing the number. “This is Anastasia Winters, may I ask who’s calling?”

“Hello, Ana,” a sickly sweet voice purred on the other end of the line.

My jaw snapped tight. “Kait. What do you want?”

“I was just calling to see how the unemployed life is treating you? Are you finding time to catch up on some self-care?”

“Why. Are. You. Calling?” I ground out through clenched teeth.

Kait laughed, the sound throaty. I wanted to reach through the phone and deck her.

“I see you haven’t managed to wrangle that temper of yours,” she said, as easy-breezy as if batting away a fly. “You know, maybe in your abundance of free time, you should think about seeing someone. I’m sure with a few months, maybe years, you could get to the root of your anger issues.”

“I don’t have anger issues, Kait. In fact, things are really looking up, so I suppose maybe I should be thanking you for calling Hyacinth that day. Maybe you were just the catalyst I needed to get out of that soul-sucking firm. You might think you won some kind of prize, and I’m sure you’re enjoying the spoils of this little war you started, but sooner rather than later, Hyacinth is going to need a new outlet for her frustration and I’d put a hundred bucks down that it falls on you.”

Kait laughed. “You don’t have a hundred dollars to spare, Anastasia.”

My eyes narrowed and it took every ounce of restraint to keep myself from pitching the phone across the room.

“Since you brought it up, I am enjoying my office, though. Thank you for keeping it in such good shape. Though, it did take some effort to get all of those ridiculous pictures off the walls. What did you use, superglue?”

The words stung, a prick right through the armor I was trying to crouch behind. A direct hit. The wall of photographs of every wedding I’d ever done was the pride and joy of my office, the sunny spot that reminded me why I did what I did. The image of Kait haphazardly ripping them all from the walls and chucking them into the trash hurt me more than I would ever admit, at least to her.

“I want them back,” I said, forcing my voice into a cool, thin line.

“Oh, don’t worry. One of your little friends scooped them up and made sure they made it into the box.”

“What box?” I asked, leaning forward.

“That’s why I’m calling,” Kait said, a maddening playfulness to her tone. She fancied herself the tomcat. I was her mouse. “Hyacinth wants to know when you’re coming to pick up the box of crap we gathered from your office.”

“She has my address on file,” I replied. “Send it with a courier.”

This was all a stupid game and I wasn’t going to play along. If Kait thought she was going to trick me into coming down to the

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