After pretending to think for a minute, Trev shook his head with mock reproach. “Can’t believe you even asked me that, dude.”

“Vanilla raspberry cream cake?”

“Always.” Then he reconsidered, realizing he now had someone to consult for matters like this. “Wait. Let me make sure it’s good with Leanne. I’ll confirm later. And…yeah. That’s it, pretty much. Thanks.”

“For what?”

“Being on my side.”

Titus smiled and hugged him again. “Always.”

Chapter 8

Leanne wasn’t ready to debut her idea at the next coven meeting, which was why she’d invited Vanessa and Margie out for drinks after work.

Yeah, Junie was waiting at home, but that was her problem. Leanne had spent countless nights alone growing up, waiting for Junie to remember that she’d promised to do something with her daughter. Without fail, her mother had chosen whatever man popped up as a distraction, so this didn’t bother her in the slightest. At least I’m with friends, not ditching her for a hookup.

“What’s up?” Margie asked, as Leanne ordered a bottle of wine.

She’d chosen Heart of Artichoke, an upscale vegetarian place, mostly because she didn’t want to run into Dan Rutherford or any of his cronies. Their group preferred to dine at steak houses and expense as many meals as possible, even on the slimmest pretext of calling it a business dinner. Sophie from accounting had given her all the gossip a few months back.

Before she answered, she let the server pour, then she took a fortifying sip. Setting down her glass, she launched into the short version of her plan. To their credit, both Vanessa and Margie listened to every word she had to say without interjecting or passing judgment.

Vanessa reacted first. “Are you out of your damn mind?”

Leanne laughed. Vanessa could always be counted on for complete honesty. The dark-skinned witch regarded her with one brow raised and sampled her own wine, waiting to hear if she’d add anything.

Leanne shrugged. “It makes sense to me.”

“You’re the only one,” Vanessa muttered.

Margie said, “You’ve given up on love, then?”

That shouldn’t sting so much when it was essentially true. She tried to feign indifference. “More accurate to say it’s given up on me. Romance isn’t for everyone, you know? These days, I want something else far more.”

“To rub Dan Rutherford’s face in the dirt,” Vanessa guessed.

“Figuratively, but yes. Do you know how many times I’ve caught that asshole staring at my butt or my boobs?”

“If only pervy looks were actionable,” Margie said wistfully.

“Every time our paths cross, my skin crawls. Recently, he more or less told me I’m best suited to be his arm candy.”

“That son of a bitch,” Vanessa bit out.