Melody's mouth twitched. "That was for our good sense of humorpart."
"I'm going to kill you both," Iseethed.
Parker raised a hand. "Wait! The Agency doesn't take unsolicited material. We dropped it off knowing there was no change in hell anyone would do anything aboutit."
I pointed to my face. "I cannot glamour myself," I hissed. "In less than an hour, this entire town is going to know my identity." I had no delusions that Matt and Marie weren't going to put two and twotogether.
"So just recast the spell," Parker said, as if it were thateasy.
"She took those powers away from me because of her psycho fairy godmother crazy find yourself bullshit!" Iscreeched.
“Uh oh,” Melody whispered and looked down at herfood.
I shoved my plate away. “I’m going to murder you both,” I said without heat. “What am I going todo?”
Parker looked less concerned. “I think this is a good opportunity. You have the chance to learn whether or not someone’s usingyou.”
If my glare was a laser, Parker would have been cut inhalf.
Parker winced as Melody elbowed her in the side. “Ouch! I’m just telling the truth. I think Katie’s hiding her true self. She always hasbeen.”
“That’s because people only see her for what she cando.”
Parker shrugged. “Not everyone.” She shoved a fry in her mouth and looked at me. “You can do this. I still think it’s a goodthing.”
I leaned back against the booth and ran my hands over my face for a moment. Reaching down, I pulled out a twenty and laid it on the table. “I’ll see you around,” I said and slid out of thebooth.
I didn’t stop even when I heard Parker and Melody calling myname.
7
When I got home,Martin's truck was still in the driveway. It wasn't surprising. He usually stayed until at least 7 o'clock. The one wonderful thing about this remodel was my kitchen. It came out amazing and every day when I walked in, I'd again murmur my thanks to him. He'd shrug it off and we'd laugh about it, but still. Amazing in everyway.
I pushed open the door, kicked off my shoes and headed to the bedroom to change. I was in a terrible mood. Hurt, betrayed, angry and completely confused were only the tip of the iceberg when it came to myfeelings.
I came out wearing a pair of yoga pants, a black tank top and a pair of flip flops. My long hair was secured in a high ponytail and I added a thin headband so my bangs wouldn't droop into myeyes.
There was only one thing I felt like doing when I felt thisbad.
I stepped into my kitchen, smiled as I looked around, and started pulling things out of my brand new antique white cabinets. When I was finished there, I opened the new pantry, inhaled the smell of fresh wood and paint, and pulled out the flour, sugar, vanilla, baking soda and powder, and set everything down on the enormous labradorite island Martin hadinstalled.
When I'd first told him what I wanted, he'd looked at me like I was insane. I probably was. Labradorite was not a common request for a kitchen counter, nor was it readily available that large. I told him I'd wait on it if need be, but Martin had not only came through, he ended up with a piece that had so much flash, the countertops practically glowed. I'd oohed and ahhed and I still couldn't stop looking and touching them. I had to be somewhat careful though. Labradorite was strong, but it could still break. Plus it was so beautiful I'd probably cry if anything happened toit.
I stepped over to the new stainless steel refrigerator and got out the eggs and milk, then brewed a strong cup of coffee for thebatter.
I set up the Kitchen-Aid mixer and got to work measuring everything. When it was finished, I hooked my phone up to bluetooth and started to streamThe Civil Warsthrough the speakers. Haunting and ethereal, their music matched my mood rightnow.
I added all the dry ingredients and gave them a stir with the mixer. I slowly added the liquid, leaving the coffee for last. I turned the mixer up a little higher and carefully poured the brew in, careful to avoid splashing. This cake batter wasn't thick and every time I made it, I was convinced it wouldn't turn out. But, as I poured it into the greased cupcake pan, it looked exactly the same as it alwaysdid.
I preheated the oven to 350, waited until it dinged, and inserted the pan. I set the timer for 18 minutes, and when I'd turned around to grab the butter for the icing, I let out a little oh ofsurprise.
Martin stood behind the counter watching me. "Hey," hesaid.
I clasped a hand over my chest. "Hey. Sorry. You startledme."
"In the bakingzone?"
"You could say that," I said with asnort.
