What was sad was how long you stayed with him.
“Ouch.” I winced. My cat was ruthless. “But you’re right. I guess I just got comfortable.”
As if he could tell we were talking about him, a text came through with Tommy’s name on it. I didn’t even bother reading it—I just deleted.
Was that him? Poa asked.
“It was. I can’t believe I stayed with him so long.”
Don’t beat yourself up. You got together when you were too young to know any better, and you had your own issues.
“Well, I know better now, and I’m going to make some changes.”
Like your hair? If a cat could arch an eyebrow, she would have.
“What’s wrong with my hair?” I raised a hand to the long, dark mane that had been one of Tommy’s favorite things about me.
It could just use a trim, that’s all. It’s pretty lifeless.
I rolled my eyes. “You don’t pull your punches, do you?”
Absolutely not. Would you, if you knew you were right all the time?
I laughed and climbed out of bed. “You know what, you’re right. I think I need a makeover.”
I could multitask while getting it done. Salons were excellent places to learn about a town, and I could perhaps get leads on local handymen who might be desperate for work. My grandmother had had a hard time finding people to help with the house, but maybe she had only looked in the most obvious places.
Anyway, I’d left my clothes behind in the ashes of my old life, so I needed something to wear that wouldn’t make me look like a murder ghost, as Rafe had called me. I glowered at the thought of him, then forced my mind toward more productive tasks.
I had no coffee or food, and I wanted to post the deeds to the solicitor, so I needed to go into town, no matter what.
I reached for my phone, grateful that I’d thought to pack a charger in my purse before going to dinner at the Regent. The full battery allowed me to check the account that the solicitor had set up for me. When the login worked and I saw the sum sitting in the account, my breath rushed out.
It was roughly half a million pounds. A giddy little squeal escaped me, and I did a twirl.
Are we rich?
I looked at Poa. “How did you know what I was looking at?”
Please. You think I haven’t seen a money dance in my life? Also, I know everything.
“Right, of course. I forgot.” I put the phone down and hurried to the tiny bathroom, getting ready as quickly as I could. I wasn’t thrilled to put on my old clothes, but I couldn’t exactly go into town wearing the clothes in my grandmother’s closet.
Poa was gone when I made it into the main room, so I grabbed my bag and headed down the stairs. As I neared the bottom, the smell of coffee greeted me. It was divine, and my mouth watered.
Maybe Grumpy McHottiePants would share.
I reached the main floor and turned the corner to look into the kitchen, but I found him already glaring at me. He must have heard me come down.
“Morning.” His voice was gruff and decidedly unwelcoming.
The coffee was going to be a no, then.
“Morning.” I turned and headed to the door. “See you later.”
He just grunted, and I scowled. What a miserable grump.
I wouldn’t dwell on him, though. I’d spent too much of my life thinking about a man, and it was time to think about myself. Poa was waiting in the car when I reached it, already asleep on the seat.
The drive into Charming Cove was short—just five minutes up a winding path away from the sea and back down into town. Using the directions the solicitor had given me, I was able to enter the town from the back, approaching the magical section and skipping the human part entirely.
Like London, Charming Cove had an entire hidden neighborhood just for supernaturals. It was impossible for humans to find Foxglove Lane, which was the main road through this part of town. I had no trouble, thankfully, and was delighted when I finally reached it.
Charming Cove was just about the prettiest place I’d ever seen. Foxglove Lane sat on a small cliff that overlooked the sparkling blue sea. The ocean side of the road had no buildings so that everyone could enjoy the view. Instead, there were narrow, beautifully landscaped gardens sitting right on the edge of the cliff, dotted with wooden benches.
Shops and restaurants occupied the inland side of Foxglove Lane. The buildings themselves were primarily stone with slate roofs, though many of them had been painted white. There were a few in other colors—a cheerful yellow and a calming blue sat side by side, and I promised myself I’d make time to check them out and see what they were.
Farther down the road, I could see the cove and sandy beach that gave Charming Cove its name, but I was pretty sure that was the human part of town. I felt little desire to explore it—the magical part was so beautiful that I was sure I’d never need to leave.
I found a parking spot in front of Margot’s Tea & Cake Parlor and pulled in. Poa woke up, her nose twitching. She put her front paws on the dash and stared out at the coffee shop, then looked at me.
“I suppose you want a latte?”
Whole milk, please.
I sighed. “Coming right up, Your Majesty.”
If a cat could have grinned, she would have. Instead, she just wiggled her shoulders in a pleased gesture. I climbed out of the car, and the sea breeze whipped my long hair in front of my face. I pulled it back so I could see better and looked across the quiet road toward the ocean.
A strip of grass at the top of the cliff widened in some places to form little gardens. A walking path cut through the grass, running alongside the main road. There were far more blooms than there should have been at that time of year, and I stared for what felt like seconds but must have been longer, because Poa tapped on the window with her claw and nodded toward the shop as if to tell me to get going.
“Fine, fine. Hold your horses.” I turned and went toward the coffee shop.
The divine scent of sugar and butter washed over me as soon as I stepped inside, followed by the scent of freshly brewed coffee. The little shop was cozy and tidy. An older couple occupied a squishy loveseat, each reading a novel while sipping from steaming mugs. I reached the counter, and a woman bustled out from the back. She was probably somewhere in her sixties, with gorgeous silver hair that fell to her shoulders in loose curls.
“Hello, lamb.” She wiped her damp hands on her apron and gave me a wide smile. “I’m Margot. What can I get for you?”
“Two small lattes, please. Whole milk.”
“Coming right up.” Margo turned to get to work on the coffees, and I looked into the pastry case, which was full of the most incredible-looking treats. Croissants, scones, danishes, and sausage rolls lined up in neat, delicious-looking rows. I decided on a chocolate croissant for myself and a sausage roll for Poa. I wouldn’t hear the end of it if I ate my croissant without bringing her something snacky.
Margot returned with my drinks a few minutes later and handed them over. “New to town, are you?”
“How can you tell?”
“Well, for one, there aren’t that many of us. And for another, I saw you eyeing the gardens like you’d never seen anything like them.”
“I haven’t.” I smiled. “They’re gorgeous, even though summer is gone.”