“I like my job,” Vivi insisted, and the truth was, she did. Sure, there were the occasional Lacrosse Cheaters, but she could more than handle them, and she loved going to work on Penhaven’s campus. She loved going to the big cafeteria for lunch, loved her office with its comfy chairs. Loved sharing her own love of history with her students. All in all, it was a good fit, and it made her feel . . . stable. Safe.
Two of Vivi’s favorite words.
As Vivi opened the wine, Gwyn’s phone buzzed, and she sighed.
“I swear to the goddess, if this is another text about Founder’s Day shit, I am going to go full Carrie on this town.”
“The mayor,” Elaine said to Vivi in a stage whisper. “She keeps texting Gwyn about Founder’s Day because she has a crush on her and this is her way of getting Gwyn to pay attention to her.”
“A solid move,” Vivi allowed, pouring herself some wine, and Gwyn rolled her eyes.
“I’ve already slept with her, Mom, it’s not that.”
“Also a solid move.” Vivi lifted her glass and, distracted, Gwyn clinked her own against it.
“No, she’s just freaking out because it’s her first Founder’s Day as mayor and she wants everything to go well,” Gwyn said, her fingers moving rapidly over the phone, “and she’s a normal human, not a witch, so you can see where these kinds of things stress her out.”
“Does she know you’re a witch?” Vivi asked, and Gwyn blew a raspberry.
“God, no. That is privileged information one only gets after the fourth date.”
“You never go on a fourth date, darling,” Elaine said, lining up her candles on the table.
“Exactly,” Gwyn said with a wink.
She went to put her phone back in her pocket only to have it buzz again, and she groaned. “Jane, honestly, you’re hot, but the sex was not good enough to warrant—oh, shit.”
“What?” Vivi and Elaine asked in unison as Gwyn stared at her phone, her eyes wide.
“Um. Nothing. Nothing at all. She sent me a nude. I’m shocked and scandalized. By the nude.”
Hastily shoving her phone in her back pocket, Gwyn picked up her wine and turned her attention to Vivi. “So! How is teaching the normies going?”
“Uh-uh,” Vivi said, placing a hand on her hip. “You are the worst liar in the entire world, Gwynnevere Jones. What did Jane say that made you make that face?”
Gwyn looked between Vivi and Elaine, who was watching her with eyebrows raised, and finally groaned, wine sloshing out of her glass as she threw up her hands.
“Because it’s the hundredth anniversary of the town’s founding, they’re sending a Penhallow.”
For a long moment, there was nothing but silence in the kitchen as all three women took that in.
A Penhallow.
Vivi sipped her wine. There were lots of Penhallows. Okay, there were four that she knew about. Simon Penhallow, Terrifying Witch, and his three sons.
One of whom had shattered her heart into a billion pieces when she was nineteen.
Which had been a long time ago.
And was a thing she had completely moved past.
Mostly.
“It might not be him,” Elaine finally said, turning back to her candles. “Might be that nightmare of a father of his.”
“Probably is,” Vivi agreed. “One hundredth is a big deal. And while Rhys might have changed a lot in the past nine years, I still don’t see him as being the one you’d send for big ceremonial things, right?”