Fire Burn and Cauldron Bubble Read Online Free PDF Page B

pane as if demanding entrance, the lightning issuing a warning of the coming thunder.
    Chicago weather was the pits.
    I checked my watch; Christa took eons to get ready. “How much longer?”
    She shrugged and returned her attention to her reflection, picking up a tube of lipstick—the color somewhere between magenta and a week-old bruise. She made a pouting sort of expression and painted her lips, taking care to dab them with a napkin.
    “The lips, Jules, are the most important part of a woman’s face.” Her reflection met mine in the mirror. She pursed the most important part of her face and made a sort of kissing gesture at herself. I couldn’t keep my smile to myself. She looked ridiculous.
    “I thought the eyes were.”
    She shook her head emphatically. “Nope. The lips.”
    Rather than get into the world’s dumbest argument, I shook my head and glanced at my watch again. “You almost ready?”
    Rand had requested we meet him in the lobby for dinner, and I didn’t want to be late.
    “Yep,” she answered, giving her hair one last fluff before turning to face me, epiphany suddenly plastered on her face. “Hey, you think Rand would pose for me?”
    Hmm, I wasn’t sure what Rand would think about it, but his chiseled face and masculine beauty would definitely make any portfolio shine a little brighter. “I don’t know; you can always ask.”
    My cell phone broke into a beepy rendition of Clare De Lune and halted our progress. I checked the caller ID and sighed. To answer or not to answer, that was the question. Finally, I decided it wasn’t right to ignore one’s mother and flipped open my phone.
    “Hi, Mom.”
    “Jolie, you forgot to call me when your flight landed.” Her voice shook, and I immediately regretted answering the phone.
    “We sort of got caught up. But don’t worry, I had a great flight and I’m in Chicago.”
    She paused, and I could hear her turning a washing machine dial in the background. How worried she be when the call to do laundry was still of prime concern?
    “Well, I’m glad to hear it. You know how I worry about you traveling.”
    She worried about everything, not just traveling. She was the type of person who would rather stay home than confront an unknown world outside her doorstep. To sum up her life: she’d been born in Spokane, and she’d die in Spokane.
    I eyed Christa who pointed at her watch. “Sorry, Mom, but I’m sorta busy at the moment. Christa and I are just on our way out.”
    “Oh, sorry, dear. Tell Christa I said hello.”
    I dropped the phone from my ear.
    “Mom says hi.” I pulled the phone back up to my mouth. “Christa says hi back. Can I call you when we’re in LA?”
    “Sure, love you. Bye bye.”
    “Love you, bye Mom.”
    I flipped the phone shut and turned to look at Christa’s inquiring smile.
    “You still haven’t told your mom how you support yourself, have you?” she asked.
    I smirked. “She thinks I’m a receptionist at a law firm. You know how religious she is, she’d never be okay with me reading fortunes, and she’d soooo not be okay with Rand.”
    I’d learned at a young age not to mention the bright colors I could see around people or the strange visions I had that always came to fruition. Multiple holy water cleanses from Father Charles have a way of teaching you when to hold your tongue.
    Christa shook her head and laughed, her voice sounding like notes picked on a harp. She was dressed to the nines in a tight black bodysuit that embellished her small waist and broad hips and cheetah stiletto heels that embellished nothing. Her loose dark hair graced her back, and I was sure she’d capture everyone’s attention. I envied her nerve.
    I glanced down at my lackluster outfit with a sigh—caramel brown slacks with sensible heels (less than two inches) and a nutmeg turtleneck. Christa had pooh-poohed my outfit, saying it was way too conservative. But I could never feel comfortable in the getup she was parading around