Mr. O'Grady's Magic Box (4 page)

Her gaze drifted back to the inn where her
lonely room awaited her return. She swallowed hard over the stab of
disappointment. Nelson waited until the last moment to tell her he
couldn't break away from work. All she asked of him was a few days,
but he couldn't give them to her. She took a long and ragged breath
and let it out again.
I'm being selfish.
Nelson's job
demanded his time. He couldn't just drop everything because she
wanted him to.
You knew what you were getting into with Nelson.
There are no surprises with him. Work first. Always.
When the
demand for his expertise died down, he gave her his full attention.
She liked her space and thought the casual arrangement perfect. So
why did having a part-time lover bother her now? "It doesn't," she
said more to convince herself. She was letting Loretta's badgering
influence her. Loretta wanted more from a relationship. It didn't
mean she did.

She strolled farther down, staying close to
the patio railing. Thoughts of the magic box and the possibility of
how it worked plagued her. She'd placed the note in the wood carved
box herself and held it in her hands. For the life of her she
couldn't figure out how Mr. O'Grady made it vanish. Could he be an
amateur magician? Maybe that was the answer, but a niggling in the
back of her mind told her the old man didn't play tricks. If she
believed that, then the box really did grant wishes. "A box to wish
for a soul mate." She wished to find hers. If the box truly could
grant wishes and her soul mate just happened to show up, how would
she know it was him? Perhaps he'd waltz in holding a sign. A
chuckle escaped her lips at the ridiculous idea. "It would make it
a whole hell of a lot easier to find the person who would make you
happy and visa versa." Unfortunately, life wasn't so simple.

Could Nelson be her soul mate and she was
just ignoring the signs? They were comfortable with each other. He
had his place and she had hers, but they would sleep over on
occasion at each others' house. Mostly she slept over at Nelson's.
His work kept him up late and he wanted to be close to his
computer. It didn't matter to her. Her laptop could travel
anywhere. As for falling asleep in a bed not hers, she never had a
problem. Her father was in the Air Force and they moved around a
lot. As long as there was a clean bed available, she could
sleep.

"Comfortable." She repeated the word she
used to describe her relationship with Nelson. Is that what she
wanted? She had thought so a few days ago. Her lips pursed into a
frown.
A soul mate would have known she needed him here with her
this weekend.
"He should have made time," she murmured beneath
her breath.

Her phone vibrated in her back pocket.
Retrieving it, she checked the caller ID before answering. "Nelson,
I was just thinking about you." She didn't have to let him know it
wasn't in a good light.

"You were?" His voice held a note of
surprise.

"I'm standing on the patio overlooking the
ocean. It's gorgeous here. I wish you could have come with me."

"Me too. Work never ends." His long sigh
irritated her. "If it's any consolation, I miss you." The cadence
of his low rough voice told her he spoke the truth.

She closed her eyes, her hand squeezing the
cell phone tight. "You do?"

"Of course I do." She waited for him to say
more, but he cleared his throat erasing the intimate moment with
his next words. "How is the interview going?"

"Mr. O'Grady is a fabulous host, but as for
pinning him down for an interview…well, let's say I would like to
ask a few more questions. I hope to catch him on a slow day. The
place is booked. There's a small staff, but it looks like Mr.
O'Grady likes being involved." She chewed on her lower lip. Should
she tell him? Why not? "I've seen the box."

"Ooh the infamous box. So what does it look
like? Does it glow in the dark and make creepy noises?"

She chuckled. "No. It's made from old wood
and carved with Celtic Symbols. I'm going to start off the article
by describing the box, adding a bit of mystery to it."

"You do have a way with words."

The long pause seemed to drag on.

"Aubrey…" He paused again as if searching
for just the right words to say.

She wished he'd say them, too. "Yes?" Her
hand gripped the phone tighter willing him to say something to let
her know he cared.

"I wish I could be there."

She closed her eyes and let out a breath she
didn't realize she'd been holding. "Do you? Do you really wish you
were here?" She felt foolish for asking, but she needed to
know.

"Of course I do. What kind of question is
that?"

She pinched the bridge of her nose in
frustration. He didn't answer her question. "It didn't seem like
you wanted to come with me, is all."

"I packed my bags, didn't I?"

He had, but that didn't mean he ever planned
on going.

"Listen, can I help it if I have clients
that demand my time?"

She opened her eyes. "I guess not."

Silence.

"I've disappointed you," he finally stated.
"I can hear it in your voice."

"Is it so terrible that I would want my
boyfriend with me?"

Another long pause and a sigh. "No, it
isn't. I'll make it up to you. I promise. Dinner, wine and—"

"Dancing," she threw in. Nelson didn't like
the clubs. The loud music gave him a headache and he thought they
were too crowded. She could imagine Nelson's thick eyebrows coming
together as he gauged his next words carefully.

He cleared his throat. She hadn't realized
until now how much he did that. "Sure. For you, I will. Listen, I
have to go. I'll call you tomorrow, okay?"

Whatever.
He was brushing her off
before she demanded something else he didn't want to do.
"Sure."

He hung up with a quick goodbye.

Placing the phone back in her pocket, she
sat down on the patio chair to soak in the last of the sun's rays.
She watched the red, orange, and yellow blend into the blue of the
sky. Mr. O'Grady was correct; the sunset took her breath away.

The wind felt cool against her face as it
caressed her hair. Reluctant to go back to her lonely room, she
stayed planted in her chair until goose flesh covered her arms and
forced her to seek the warmth of the hotel.

She strolled into the library for a cup of
tea before heading up the stairs and into her room. Her drapes were
opened and she went over to shut them. Down below, she caught sight
of Mr. O'Grady walking a man to his pickup truck. Maybe it was his
grandson. They were shadowed in the fading light. She could tell
the man was tall, standing at least six inches taller than Mr.
O'Grady with wide shoulders, tapering down to narrow hips – and a
nice set of buns, too. At that moment, as if sensing someone was
watching him, he turned and looked up in her direction. She
immediately stepped back as if he could see her. Surely, he
couldn't. She let the curtain fall, not wanting to take the chance
she'd be caught ogling the owner's grandson. Funny, in her head
she'd conjured up a sixteen-year old boy, not a good-looking man.
"You didn't even see his face," she told herself with a laugh. Then
she sighed dreamily. With a physique like that, who cared?

She looked at her laptop sitting on the
table and took one last sip of her tea. "Time to work." She plopped
down in the chair and reached for her notes.

Chapter Six

Ian had driven to LA to pick up the rose
bushes and trees he planned for the patio area in back of the inn.
Reece finished his homework at school and took the long ride with
him. Traffic was horrendous on the way back with bumper to bumper
crawling at times. Reece fell asleep about a half an hour ago with
his earplugs still in his ears. His brother carried the iPod
everywhere. When he pulled into the inn's parking lot, he didn't
have the heart to wake him. After he unloaded the plants, he'd head
home and usher Reece into the house and to bed.

The cool sea breeze felt wonderful after the
heat of the day pounded down on him as he worked. He lowered the
door to the truck bed and reached for the potted plant closest to
him. He looked toward the inn and caught sight of his granddad
ambling out to greet him with a large paper bag in his hand.

"You're late and I bet you're nothing short
of famished. I packed two meals to go."

"Thanks, Granddad. Reece's asleep in the
front seat, but once I wake him, I'm sure he'll want to eat. I
swear I don't know where he puts it all."

"A teenage lad's stomach is never full." His
granddad chuckled. "I see you be forgetting that you were the same.
Your mother would tell me she couldn't stock the cupboards fast
enough for you."

Ian chuckled. "You're right, I do remember
her complaining to Da." He placed the rosebush next to the potted
plant. "Did the reporter you were expecting ever arrive?"

"Oh aye. She's staying on the second
floor."

Ian paused and looked at his granddad.
"She?"

"Didn't I tell you? A pretty lass, if I do
say so myself." His hands jabbed into his pockets as he rocked on
his feet.

He hadn't told him it was a woman reporter.
His gaze turned toward the upper floor of the inn. For a moment he
thought he caught a glimpse of someone looking out, but it must
have been a trick of the light.

"She's going to be here until the end of the
week," his granddad offered.

Good, Ian thought. It would give him a
chance to question her. He couldn't help but wonder what kind of
woman wrote for a paranormal magazine. Probably a social reject
with nothing better to do than chase after Elvis' ghost or
something just as silly.

"She's a smart one and a real looker," his
granddad said as if he read his mind and wanted to correct his
opinion of the reporter.

"Is that so?" His granddad tended to
exaggerate and he gave him a leveled-eyed look.

"Oh aye." He nodded his head. "You'll know
soon enough. I'll introduce you come tomorrow." His hand landed on
his grandson's shoulder. "You go home now and get some shuteye. The
dark circles under your eyes do nothing to flatter you. Don't want
you scaring the poor lass."

Ian shook his head, his lips twitching at
the corners. "I'm heading home now." He glanced back at the inn,
where the light burned bright in the reporter's room. Good looking
or not, he'd escort her out of the inn if she proved
not
to
be legit.

Chapter Seven

Aubrey stuffed her notes about the area into
the folder. She wanted to give the readers a complete visual of
this place. Once she incorporated the information into the article,
she'd shoot an email to Loretta and have her take a look at the
rough draft.

She approached the window and brushed the
curtain aside, glancing outside. The parking lot was full and the
truck she spotted last night was parked in a slot close to the
entrance of the inn. Hmm… did that mean Mr. O'Grady's good-looking
grandson was working today? She wondered if the grandson believed
the magic box found soul mates. It would be interesting to ask him.
Maybe she could finagle a quote from him, too. This brought a smile
to her lips.

Her research about the inn told her people
made a point to book a room during the Spring Equinox in hopes Mr.
O'Grady would give them a try at the magic box. Only one person
each year found what they were looking for, or so the legend
stated. However, Mr. O'Grady had yet to give her proof to back up
this statement.

In ancient times, the Celts believed Alban
Eiler, which translated,
Light of the Earth,
was the holy
time of transition, where nature and life cycles renewed. The
Faeries perhaps thought finding a soul mate was a chance of a
person starting a new life, the next chapter so to speak.

She leaned forward and peered skyward. The
glass radiated warmth. The weather report she pulled up on the
Internet promised sunny and warm today. "Yep, not a cloud in the
sky. Perfect." If she stayed here much longer, she might have to
relocate; Seattle could be gloomy and wet most of the year.

She turned away and picked up her carrying
case with her laptop stored safely inside. She slipped the strap
over her shoulder and reached for her papers. Her hand clasped the
book on Irish folklore she borrowed from Mr. O'Grady's collection
downstairs. He'd given her permission to borrow whatever she needed
from his bookshelves in the library. Later on, she planned on
giving the shelves a more thorough look-over, but for now, she
wanted to soak up some sun.

She headed downstairs with hopes of snagging
a seat out on the patio with a view of the bay.

Some of the other patrons were in the lobby
below. One couple stood at the display case with brochures of
things to do in the area. Another stood at the desk, probably
checking in for a stay. Freshly roasted coffee and the tantalizing
scent of home-baked pastries hit her nostrils, making her mouth
water. She'd grab a muffin and a cup of java on the way out.

Reaching the bottom step, her gaze shifted
to the front door as an amazing specimen of masculinity walked in.
She was positive it was Mr. O'Grady's grandson. The gardening belt
around his waist also was a dead giveaway he wasn't a guest.

With the sun shining behind him, she could
only admire his broad shoulders and chest, tapering nicely down to
a tight waist and slim hips.
My, my, his faded blue jeans fit
him all too well
. Now, if he would step further into the foyer
so she could see his face clearly. As if on command, he took a few
steps forward only to be stopped by the couple with the brochures.
Perfect. She could admire the man without him noticing her.

Dark hair trimmed at his ears and longer in
the back, straight nose, strong jaw—exquisite perfection brushed
with a touch of wildness and…something familiar.