Dewitched (Witchless In Seattle Mysteries Book 3) Read Online Free PDF Page A

how did he find me?”
    “Exactly. We must protect you from frauds, Stevie. You’re a very rich woman. Now, I’m going to stress once again, please take a moment to gather your thoughts. Have a glass of wine. I want this to be an enjoyable evening for you. As good as it possibly can be, after Hugh’s admission. I don’t want you frazzled and upset. I’ll have Belfry call Petula, if need be, and give him instructions to pass on to her if we run into any more problems.”
    Petula, as well as Liza, the college student and friend I’d hired to handle the Madam Zoltar shop in town, both thought Belfry was my virtual assistant from Connecticut. It helped tremendously to fall back on Bel and Win.
    But I shook my head. If I didn’t think about what had just happened, I could compartmentalize it for now. But there was just one thing I had to ask myself.
    If Hugh Granite, international star in Asia or wherever, really was my father, how had two such vain people made me ? Given, Hugh was certainly sweetly egotistical, but my mother? Not so much.
    Maybe I should ask him to leave and come back another day when I was more prepared to find out if he was just messing with my head? Was he dangerous? He sure didn’t look dangerous. But there were plenty of madmen out there who looked as gentle as newborn kittens. I didn’t know what to do. So many decisions, so few brain cells not already eaten up by party matters.
    Yes. Wine. I needed wine. Maybe that would help me loosen up enough to parse through all this new information.
    “Stevie? Wow! You look beautiful,” Forrest called before he let a whistle go, thus, ending my dilemma.
    As he climbed the porch steps, I had to admit, he looked pretty impressive, too. He’d worn a tux, the crisp lines and smooth material accentuating his chiseled face and sandy-brown hair.
    I reached up and tweaked his bow tie with a grin. I liked Forrest. I liked him a great deal. He was easy to talk to, made killer coffee at his shop, the Strange Brew, and he was even easier on the eyes.
    We’d had a few dates now, coffee, dinner, sometimes lunch. But nothing serious.
    I forced myself to look as relaxed as possible even as my eyes scanned the lawn for Hugh. “You look pretty great yourself. I was just going to grab a glass of wine. You want one, too?”
    “Sure,” he said with one of his devastatingly handsome smiles. “The house looks amazing, Stevie. I can’t believe you pulled this and a housewarming party together in so little time.” Putting his hand at my waist, he ushered me back inside the house.
    “Me either, but we did it.”
    “We?”
    “Oh, I meant me and Enzo and his crack team of subcontractors. Never could have done it without him. He’s a miracle worker for sure.”
    Forrest stopped just as we stepped into the entryway, where I gave a cautious peek around for Hugh.
    “Did you hear that?”
    I paused to listen. “Hear what? The string quartet? They’re warming up.”
    He shook his head and cocked his ear. “No, that wasn’t the sound of violins I heard.”
    And then I heard it, too.
    A shrill scream.
    Turning back toward the wide-open front door, I shot Forrest an apologetic smile before I ran to see what was going on.
    It was one of the Cirque du Soleil members. I’d name-dropped Win’s name in order to entice her to come perform. Of course, after I’d done all my name-dropping, I asked Win how a spy comes to know an entire troupe of acrobats. To which he answered, who doesn’t appreciate women who could twist themselves into every position in the Kama Sutra without a single grunt?
    Short answer to my question? None of your beeswax, lady.
    Anyway, the long-limbed, graceful goddess in a soft-pink leotard was screaming and swatting at her hair.
    “Get eet off!” she screamed in a pretty French accent. “Eet’s in my haaair!”
    And that’s when I saw it—a tiny white bat wing poking out from the troupe member’s long blonde locks.
    Aw, heck. The Bats had arrived.