Big Gator: A BBW shape shifter paranormal romance (22 page)

             “
It
was pretty damn amazing,” she said.  “I can't stop thinking
about it, and I'm going to see him at work tomorrow.”

             “
Who
put the moves on who exactly?”

             “
He
did – he definitely did.”

             “
Wow,”
Marianne said. “It is too damn bad he's not a shifter. He's a cut
above all the men we know, that's for sure.”

             
Then
Marianne decided it was time for a reality check.

             “
You
know you're going to have to cut it off.  This can go on for
maybe a month, tops.  How are you going to play the double role
of being 'Shirley' and his bed buddy at the same time?”

             “
I
think he's gotten over Shirley,” Brandy lied.  She simply
didn't need to sneak 'Shirley' into Animal Sphere anymore, now that
McEvans knew the truth.

             “
Okay
then,” Marianne said.  “That's a little surprising, but it's
kind of a relief.”

             
As
they continued talking, Jenny arrived home.  She sashayed into
the kitchen and poured herself a cup of coffee, joining them at the
kitchen table.

             “
Ah
– hello there,” Brandy said.

             “
Good
morning,” Jenny said.  She was clearly in a good mood.

             “
You
didn't come home last night,” Brandy.

             “
Nope,”
she said. She was playing hard to get.

             “
Spill
it, String Bean,” Marianne said.

             
Jenny
smiled smugly.

             “
We
made a deal with Rachel LaBelle.”

             “
You
made a
deal
?”
Marianne said. “What
kind
of
deal?”

             “
We
agreed to pay her $700,000 for lifting the curse.”

             “
She
admitted to knowing how?” Brandy asked.

             “
No,”
Jenny said. “She doesn't know how.  But she and her mother are
going to figure it out.  They only get paid if it works. But we
gave her $100,000 as a retainer.”

             
Brandy
and Marianne stared at each other.  It wasn't a done deal, by
far, but this was looking like it actually had potential.

             “
So,
if they don't know – how are they going to figure it out?”
Marianne asked.

             “
Apparently
Rachel's mother is stronger than she is,” Jenny explained. “Eve
LaBelle must have invented the curse, because clearly it's not
standard Hoodoo stuff – it's something mighty special. Rachel
thinks her mother has some family grimoires that go back to Madame
Eve.”

             “
People
are going to be ripshit,” Brandy told her cousin.  “What
makes you think someone won't try to track Rachel down and remove her
from the picture if they find out?”

             “
Well,
I know YOU won't tell anyone, because you'd feel too guilty,” Jenny
said. “And we set her up somewhere that no one knows about, so
she's safe.”

             “
With
the two thugs?”

             “
Beau
and Paulie aren't thugs,” Jenny said. “They're bounty hunters,
and they're serious and committed to the cause.”

Chapter 23

             
Rachel
was, indeed, holed up somewhere safe. She was set up in a hotel
somewhere in the Florida Keys.

             
Rachel
immediately had called her mother and laid everything straight out
for her. Her mother was absolutely amazed.  The promise of a
50/50 split of $700,000 just to work some Hoodoo was too good to
resist.             

             “
Well,
of course you'll need my help honey,” her mother drawled. “This
type of magick is way beyond you.”

             “
It's
way beyond you, too, Mother,” Rachel said back, as sweet as pie.
“I've never even heard this story before.”

             “
True
– true,” her mother said. “Neither have I.”

             
But
her mother
had
heard
the story, as a little girl. Once from an aunt.
This
was some dark stuff
,
her aunt had warned her,
Best
not to go there, Sylvia.
But
Sylvia LaBelle had always wanted to
go
there
. 
She just could never figure out how.  And so she had to stay
satisfied with knowing the right spells to help her seduce one rich
man at a time, and then grieve over each untimely death.

             
Her
daughter Rachel could play the innocent all she wants, Sylvia
thought.  But Rachel was no innocent.  She benefitted
financially from her mother's perpetual widowhood as much as Sylvia. 
She had just always been weak.  But maybe not so much anymore. 
The fact that she had made such a deal with these people impressed
her mother. But Sylvia knew she had to keep the upper hand.

             
As
much as she pushed her daughter to rely on Hoodoo, in reality Sylvia
always wanted to make sure she herself remained the stronger woman –
so she always held back on info.  She never let Rachel know the
details of her own love spells – and how they worked so well.

             
For
the most part, Rachel always seemed to stay a bit subservient to her
mother.  Unbeknownst to Sylvia, however, Rachel had always
wanted to
go
there
as
well.  She just never thought she had what it took. 

             
Now,
maybe she had a shot.

             
Rachel
figured she would need her mother to track down whatever this curse
was and how it was done, so that they could also reverse it. 
But it was Rachel who was the broker of the deal – and she
certainly knew how to maintain control of THAT.  Her mother
never worked for a living – she seduced her way into money. 
Rachel used magick to give her an edge with her career – but she
still worked hard for the money she earned.  That seemed more
fair to her.  Like she was simply using the spiritual realm for
networking, like others simply had the right connections in the human
realm.

             
Sylvia
LaBelle arrived early the next morning at the secret location with
two suitcases – one with her designer clothes and the other with
the family grimoires. The grimoires went back a hundred years. 
They were old dusty books with every spell reportedly known in the
LaBelle family line. Sylvia was a handsome woman in her 50s who had
chosen to go the dermafill route rather than subjecting herself to
facelifts.  That and a little Botox and Pilates kept Sylvia
svelte and smooth-skinned.

             
Mother
and daughter ordered a pitcher of mimosas from room service and sized
each other up over cocktails.  Neither really trusted the other,
each a mirror image of the other's insecurities and subtle or overt
manipulations.  They reflected Madame Eve LaBelle's past,
present and future without even realizing it. 

             
Sylvia
and Rachel spent the rest of the day scouring the books until they
found what they were looking for.

             “
Well,
I'll be damned,” Sylvia said. “There it is, after all.”

             
Rachel
looked concerned.

             “
This
is one screwed-up spell,” she said. “This is something really
difficult. How are we going to get toenail clippings from a
10-year-old alligator?  How can we tell if it's 10 years old?”

             “
We
don't have to cast it, Rachel.  We just have to break
it.
”             

             “
Yeah
– for over maybe ten thousand people, probably.”

             “
Are
you suddenly backing out?  This was your idea.”

             “
No,”
Rachel said.  She firmly snapped the grimoire shut and placed it
on the stack of others sitting on the hotel bed.

             
Looking
for a distraction, she grabbed the television remote and turned the
TV on. One of McEvan's wildlife documentaries was on. Rachel let out
a frustrated sigh and shut it off, throwing the remote across the
room.

             
Her
mother stood up and went to pick up the remote.  She turned the
TV back on.

             “
Look
at him, Rachel,” she said. “No LaBelle woman lets a man just
break up with her like that.”

             
Something
had started burning in Rachel's heart since the breakup.  Her
mother was right.  She was sick of things not working out with
men, and she was sick of always being the dumpee.  What the hell
was wrong with her?

             
Suddenly,
Rachel heard a voice.

             
It's
not you – it's them.  And you know what to do now.

             
Was
it in her head?  Was it in the room?

             
Had
her mother heard it?  She didn't look like she had heard the
voice.

             “
Let's
focus on what we need too,” Rachel said, feeling a bit shaken.

             
Yes
– you need to focus
,
said the voice.  Rachel realized it was coming from one of the
grimoires.  But not the one with the curse in question. It came
from another one – one that seemed a little older.

             
This
time, Rachel knew the voice was right. Enough was enough. 

             
And
suddenly she knew with full conviction that the Guyettes and whomever
else had deserved what they had gotten.  She wasn't going to
lift the Alligator Curse for $700,000 or even twice that. There are
some things that money can't buy. Let her mother sit around trying to
figure it out.

             
Rachel
picked up the grimoire that spoke to her.

             “
That
one's useless,” her mother told her. “We already read through
it.”

             
It's
not useless,
said
the voice.
 
The
real spell is in this one.

             
Rachel
understood that the spell that had seemed so obvious was really just
a guesstimate drafted by a later LaBelle.  The real one was
written in code in the dingy old grimoire she held in her hand.

             “
I'm
going out,” Rachel said.

             “
Where?”