Suze gives an approving nod. “I’m going that route myself. Why light money on fire when I could do it to myself? Besides, I can’t miss out on my one shot to have a smokin’ body.”
The room erupts with laughter, and I can’t help but roll my eyes at Carlotta.
The women quickly circulate around the room before swooping over to the dessert table. Suze stands up front speaking with a couple of women before she cups her hands around her mouth.
“To recap, do not—and I stress—do not spend any money this holiday season. The department stores are nothing short of thieves looking to pry open your wallet. The most cost effective way to spend this holiday season is spending time with your family.”
The room breaks out into cheers at the sentimental thought.
“That’s funny,” I whisper to Carlotta. “I’d spend good money not to spend time with Suze.”
“And yet here you are.”
“Touché, Carlotta. Touché.”
Mom pops back into the room and quickly begins distributing copies of her latest raunchy read, Reckless Mattresses, and soon all of the women are abuzz and asking her to sign their copy. Mom really does look as if she’s in her literary element.
I’m about to head over to Suze when a whole new batch of women pours into the conservatory. But these women aren’t wearing cheery red and green holiday sweaters. They’re all dressed in black from head to toe with long sparkling silver necklaces hanging from their necks. And at the base of each of those necklaces is a triangular amulet. I’m not sure why, but I’m getting a bad vibe from these people.
Carlotta taps her shoulder to mine. “Check out who just walked through the door.”
I glance over and freeze solid, but it’s not because I see the ornery elf from yesterday who had her face slapped silly by the deceased. It’s because I see a wicked witch from yesteryear who once upon a time put her own curse on me—Serena Digby.
Early last spring, Cormack and Cressida teamed up to try to make me disappear out of Noah and Everett’s lives. They hired this charlatan, Serena, to put some wannabe hex on me, but suffice it to say, I’m still standing firmly in both Noah and Everett’s hearts.
“Whoa ho ho!” Carlotta holds her belly and makes it jiggle. “If it isn’t the wicked witch of the East Coast. That’s that Digby dirtbag, isn’t it, Lot? The one who put a pox on you?”
“Yup.” My lids hood low as the woman moves around the room to greet the others all dressed as though they just finished up with a funeral. Serena’s hair is dark as pitch, her eyes glow a pale green, and she has porcelain skin that gives her that half past dead look.
“How did that curse go again, Lot? Oh wait—I think I got it. You will rue the day you trampled on the hearts of Cormack and Cressida. Everything you love, everything you desire, everything you hope for and dream of will turn to ashes and soot. May nothing go your way. May the shadow replace the sun. May the winds of fortune hide their face from you. May darkness descend on you this hour, and may it never leave until you surrender all that you stole from my sisters—my being hers.”
“How in the heck did you memorize all that?” I marvel. “I only told you that once.”
“I’ve added it to my list of prayers each night. I can’t help it, Lot. You have a special way of frustrating me.”
Suze swoops over with a mean looking scowl on her face, and I instinctually recoil.
“What are you doing here?” she snaps.
“I was just paying my mother a visit and thought I’d furnish your club with a little dessert. Free of charge, of course.”
“Oh.” Her shoulders loosen at the thought. “Thank you,” she grouses.
A few of the women leaving the room wave her way and Suze waves back.
“Remember”—she cups her hands around her lips once again—“debt is normal. Be weird!”
“Be weird!” the women call out in unison before taking off.
Suze is weird, all right. And this meeting of the cheapskate minds just confirms it. Not that I have anything against living on a budget.
She nods toward Carlotta. “If you’ll excuse me, ladies, my next club is meeting in five minutes. You’re welcome to stay if you like.” She takes off into the crowd and begins to mingle.
I watch as Elodie, the brunette from last night, makes her rounds through the crowd of women all clad in black.
My mother skips back with a spring in her step. “I just gave away thirty-two autographed copies!” She crosses her fingers in the air. “Let’s hope this multiplies sales by the new year.”
“I’m sure it’ll help.” I’m crossing my own fingers because I think I may have let a white lie slip. I’m pretty sure those women have made a pact never to spend a shiny dime. “Mom, is this the Christmas Angels club, meeting up next?”
“Try Christmas demons.” Mom shudders as she looks to the crowd of women. “It’s the Magic Mavens of Honey Hollow. They get together and talk about their latest enchantments and whatnot. That woman over there”—she points a red glittery fingernail right at my very first suspect—“that’s Elodie Frost. She tried to put the moves on Wiley last month, and when I told her to back away from my man, she laughed and said I’d lose him soon enough. She looked right into my eyes, and I felt something, Lottie. It was as if I could see the writing on the wall. Wiley and I are just about finished. It’s almost as if she put a hex on me. Anyway, I think I’ll bring in a fresh pot of coffee. All they talk about is beguiling this beguiling that.” She takes off in a sprint.
“Beguiling?” I squint over at Carlotta. “Where have I heard that before?”
“I don’t know, Lot, but I think Suze belongs to a bona fide coven. I can’t say I’m all that surprised. Hey? I bet these witches would be willing to part with a little of their hard conjured-up cash. I think I’ll get some of my kinky candles out of my trunk. Try not to kill anyone while I’m gone.”
She zips off just as a spray of stars appears in her place, and soon I’m staring right at the ghost of Greer Giles.
Greer has long dark hair, the face of a supermodel, and she’s still wearing the white ruched gown she had on the night she lost her life.
Before I can say hello, Kringle appears on her shoulder and she gives him a pat.
“Lottie Lemon, this one is a keeper,” she says. “He and Thirteen get along so well.”
Kringle’s nose twitches. “And Lea has yet to chop off my tail.”
“I’m pretty sure it’d grow back if she did.” I know this as a fact. Lea makes it a point to chop off as many ghostly body parts as she can. Her true aspirations lie in chopping off body parts of the living, and I’m half-afraid she’s getting closer to meeting her goal.
Kringle stands on his hind legs and gasps. “Here she comes.” He starts zipping around the room and little Lea gives him chase, swinging that machete in her hand as if it were her job, and I’m afraid it sort of is.
Greer leans in. “I was wondering when you were going to show up to one of these.” She shudders and a sprinkling of miniature stars falls right out of her hair. “It’s just such an odd thing to hold these kinds of meetings out in the open. You’d think they’d want to hide something like this. Sort of the way you do.”