The Shoppe of Spells by Shanon Grey Read Free Book Online

she listened and tried to imagine him interacting with the people who raised him—the ones who gave her away. Suddenly, she wasn’t smiling any longer.
    Dorian stopped midsentence. “What’s wrong?” He seemed genuinely concerned and reached out as if to touch her hand, stopped, and pulled his hand back, his fist clenched.
    Feeling raw with unexplored emotions, Morgan looked down, shook her head and toyed with her napkin.
    An older woman approached, a tray balanced on her shoulder. She set the tray on a stand, set plates in front of Morgan and Dorian, then stood and stared.
    Morgan bent her head further down.
    “Oh, I’m sorry,” she apologized, “it’s just that you’re the spitting image of Mel. But, you know that.”
    Morgan smiled faintly.
    “Morgan, this is Teresa Ruthorford.”
    Morgan extended her hand. Teresa took it in both of hers. Tears threatened to spill from the woman’s eyes. “I am so glad to meet you. Mel was my best friend.” Her voice broke. She turned and rushed away.
    “Go,” Morgan said, seeing Dorian’s quandary.
    “I’ll be right back. Go ahead and start. Don’t let your dinner get cold.”
    Morgan took a bite. The fish was grilled and served with a fragrant herb sauce that enhanced the flavor but didn’t overpower it. It was incredible. The fresh asparagus was also grilled and served with just a hint of lemon. Her appetite rapidly returned.
    Dorian returned and sat down. “How is it?”
    “It’s wonderful. Is she okay?”
    He nodded, took a bite of his chicken, and looked at her. Suddenly nervous, she dabbed the napkin at her lips and looked out the window.
    “Why do you do that?” he asked.
    “Do what?”
    “Look away. Or down. Or out from under your bangs.”
    Her cheeks flamed.
    “It’s your eyes, isn’t it?” He reached over and gently lifted her chin with just the tip of his finger, barely touching her, until she was looking right at him, into those glacial blue eyes. She felt a slight tingle. “You have Melissa’s eyes,” he said. “Wonderful eyes.”
    “Eyes that bring stares and starts.”
    “Hmm,” he nodded. “I forget.” He went back to eating. “Here, we are all used to her eyes. Eyes that shined with kindness and love.” He took a sip of coffee. “But, now that I think about it, she did have sunglasses she wore whenever we went anywhere else. Or, she’d wear a hat.” His eyes crinkled at the memory. “I’d forgotten.”
    “You’re sure Teresa’s okay?” She changed the subject. Talking about Melissa felt weird, as it pertained to her.
    “Yes. She’ll be all right. They grew up together.”
    “Losing a friend and then having her likeness appear before you must be devastating,” she acknowledged. Finding out you’ve lost someone you never even knew isn’t easy, either , Morgan thought and realized she, too, was experiencing a sense of loss.
    Dorian poured her a second cup of coffee and turned the conversation to herbs, soaps, and lotions. The things she knew and loved to craft. He seemed to have a real talent for concocting just the right blend. For a little while, he was warm and friendly, as though he’d forgotten to be mad at her. Morgan began to relax. They sipped coffee as candlelight flickered in the deepening dusk.
    “You don’t know how much you look like Mel. It took my breath away.” He cocked his head and looked at her. “But you are softer, gentler.”
    “I wish I had met them.”
    “They would have loved you.” He looked into the candle flame. A far away, sad expression passed over his eyes.
    Wanting to comfort him, Morgan reached over and touched his hand. Zapped, she jerked back. “Ow! What is it with you? Every time we touch…” she let the words trail off as he looked at her, his brow furrowed. Obviously, he hadn’t felt it.
    “Shall we go?” He rose and came around to pull out her chair.
    “Don’t we need to wait for the check?”
    “No. We… I have a running tab. Plus, I provide all the herbs for