Time Spell Read Online Free Page A

when these yoga pants had to go.
    A quick glance over my shoulder in the foyer mirror told me I’d found the right blend of cute, casual, and sexy for an impromptu meeting with my off-limits boss. I’m glad I had discovered Francesca’s Boutique for outfits like this one. I snuck in as many shopping trips as I could between work travel, and the girls at Francesca’s had started pulling things from the racks for me in my size. Being a mini-celebrity had its perks. The girl in the mirror smiled back at me. I loved my perfected Glamour Spell . I grabbed my keys off the hook and rushed to meet Jack.
    He lived in an older part of town where I envisioned summers filled with children dashing through yard sprinklers, Christmas wreaths hung on every door during the holidays, and neighbors waving at each other on their sunset strolls down the sidewalk. The problem with the vision was that all of that had happened thirty years ago, and now the houses were unkempt, lonely, and laughter-free. Tall oaks towered over the streets and yards filled with memories of what used to be.
    I pulled up behind Jack’s Jeep parked in his gravel drive and noticed fishing poles hanging out of the back window. I didn’t know much about what Jack did when he wasn’t working at the office or hounding me for rewrites, but I guessed he spent a lot of time outside. Even in cold winter months, he still looked tan and he was always in shape. During our meetings, I couldn’t help but notice how his buttoned-up shirts lightly clung to his arms. Obviously, the man worked out a lot. I waited for the song to fade out on the radio before I pulled the keys from the ignition.
    The house looked dark and the shutters were closed. If he hadn’t just asked for this meeting, I would guess Jack wasn’t home.
    My witchy instincts started to tingle. I relied on my instincts like birds trusted their feathers to help them fly. It was as if a string tugged on my senses, alerting me to a change in the energy. Usually, it wasn’t a good change. Sometimes it felt like my nerves were on fire trying to sort through the awareness.
    I surveyed the surrounding houses. Jack’s square yard was manicured, but there were no flowers or pots to greet guests. I wondered if he had guests, especially female guests. I felt my eyes narrow at the thought. Geez, Ivy, this is a business meeting . I calmed my unnecessary pangs of jealousy.
    It was the beginning of spring in Sullen’s Grove, but chilly winter evenings were hesitant to retreat. Smoke curled from the chimney. I straightened my cream-colored jacket and pulled the low V-neckline of my T-shirt down so it was at just the right dip. I was especially pleased I had bought these leather boots as I swung my legs out of the car and hit the gravel. My jeans were the right amount of snug, I thought, as I pushed my phone into my back pocket.
    I scanned the desolate street again. It was hard to ignore the witchy tingle. It was getting stronger, but before I could ring the doorbell, the door jerked open just enough for an arm to reach toward the porch, grab hold, and pull me into a dark hallway.
    As my eyes adjusted to the lack of light, my nose inhaled an aroma mixed with the faint scent of leather, bourbon, and Jack’s cologne. My mind flashed forward to what it would be like to spend time in this house with Jack and to smell that wonderful Jack-smell every day, but I snapped-to in a blink when I heard his voice.
    His hand gripped around my upper arm, cutting off the circulation from my shoulder. My heart raced and my breath quickened as he leaned closer. I searched his eyes for an explanation, but all I saw was fear.
    “Ivy, I need to know who you are. It’s time you tell me the truth about you and your books, and you don’t have much time.”

I REFUSED to blink or to turn away from his radiating glare. Maybe it was the crispness in his voice, or the death grip he had on my arm, but my legs locked in rebellion.
    “What is going on?”