Vivian raises that mocking eyebrow again, and I hope I’m not blushing as I spit my answer between gritted teeth. “Only when the act is intended as a propitiatory rite to harness the Earth’s power in anticipation of a scrying ritual to take place at midnight.”

“Okay,” Jennifer says, nonplussed. “Your objections have been noted, Dr. Keller, and we’ll keep your feedback in mind when selecting your next match. I wish you a great day, and remember, true love is only one date away.” She singsongs the last part.

“A good day to you, too.” I slam the receiver down and raise a warning finger toward Medusa. “Not a word.”

Vivian throws her head back and finally laughs openly until her eyes glisten with tears. “I’m sorry,” she says between chuckles. “What a charming night you must’ve had.” The laughter continues. “Makes my Saturday look not so bad in comparison.”

She’s beautiful when she laughs. The realization hits me unbidden. To be fair, Vivian has always been a good-looking woman, but without the usual aura of austerity and disdain, I see her in a whole different light. A dangerous, too-attractive one. She must sense I’m staring at her funny, because her mirth slowly disappears.

“What?” she asks.

I rake a hand through my hair. “Nothing,” I say. “I hope at least one day my future wife and I will laugh the whole thing off. It’ll be a great story to tell our grandkids: that time grandpa went on a date with a witch.”

It’s Medusa’s turn to stare at me as if she was seeing me for the first time.

“Yeah,” she agrees. “It’ll make for a good story.”

We share another serious look, maybe even a silent agreement to lay down our arms.

But, contrary to my optimistic feelings, Vivian stiffens in her chair and checks her watch, asking, “Are we done yet? I don’t have all morning.”

And, just like that, the comradeship is gone and we’re back on opposite sides of the fence. “Sorry, no. We still need to discuss Tegan’s father.” We’ve circled the issue enough, so I go ahead with a direct question. “Why do you refuse to disclose his identity?”

Medusa stares daggers at me. “Do I have to answer?”

“You don’t have to do anything. If you’re not comfortable talking to me, I can refer you to a colleague, but you should address the issue. For your daughter’s sake.”

Vivian stares at the floor, nibbles nervously at a fingernail, and then scoffs, exasperated. “I can’t believe I’m sharing the story with you, my sworn enemy.”

“Oh, come on, would a sworn enemy almost break his neck so you wouldn’t miss a hearing?” I had to throw my IOU card in there eventually.