A Witch In Time: Magic and Mayhem Book Three (13 page)

“Ahhh, Jeeves,” Mac said as he pressed the bridge of his nose and amazingly held on to his composure. “Remember our discussion about TMI?”

“Yes, Dad. I do,” Jeeves replied, clearly not following where Mac was going.

“That son, was TMI.”

“Ohhhh, I got ya,” Jeeves said with a second blush that eclipsed the first. “Sorry.”

“No worries,” I replied in a strangled whisper and then remembered a piece of the puzzle I’d forgotten to share. “Oh and the chipmunks mentioned something about Ber who’s not a lesbian.”

“Ber?” Fabio asked, puzzled. “I know of no Ber who’s not a lesbian.”

“You know a Ber that
is
a lesbian?” Roger inquired.

“No. Do you know Ber the lesbian?” Fabio questioned Roger.

“Wait the hell a minute,” Jango grumbled with a shake of his furry head. “I thought Ber wasn’t a lesbian.”

“You know Ber?” Mac asked trying to follow the conversation thread that was quickly careening toward hell.

“Nope. I don’t know no Ber,” Jango said.

“Maybe this Ber
is
a lesbian and the chipmunks outed his ass and are now running for their lives,” Fat Bastard suggested with a triumphant look on his face.

“How can a man be a lesbian?” Jeeves added, further perplexing all the male idiots in the room.

“Fine point,” Fabio pondered aloud with an appreciative nod for Jeeves’ intellect. “However, are we sure Ber the possible lesbian is a man at all?”

“And what would Ber being a lesbian have anything to do with the chipmunks trying to kill Zelda to stop the show from being performed?” Mac asked with a disgusted shake of his head.

“Do you think this is all because Zelda’s a lesbian?” Fat Bastard offered up while scratching his balls.

“Zelda is not a lesbian,” Mac informed the room with a shit-eating grin on his face, much to my dad’s displeasure.

“My bad,” Fat Bastard said. “Wishful thinking. Maybe Ber is a lesbian honey badger who’s come to off Zelda since she popped the shit out of about a hundred of them and there are no more lesbian honey badgers.”

“It’s possible,” Jango said thoughtfully. “But Ber can’t be a honey badger lesbian if Zelda popped all the lesbian ones. You follow me?”

Thankfully that nugget of stupidity silenced all of them as they tried to piece the fucked up puzzle they’d created into something that made sense.

“Um, none of you should think—ever again. Your heads might explode and I can’t fix that,” I said in a voice dripping with sarcasm. “Ber is the mastermind and the lesbian part came out because I said thespian. I’m going with the assumption the Ber is a guy—a really bad guy if the little chipmunk dudes’ reaction to the mention of his name was anything to go by.”

“I’m fairly sure I made the term thespian illegal,” Fabio reminded me. “It gets everyone in trouble.”

“Especially Fat Bastard,” Jango volunteered as he ducked a right hook from the Bastard.

“Let’s say we let Ber the
not a lesbian
subject drop until we get Sassy’s information,” I suggested as I gently pushed the cats and Jeeves toward the door to the basement. “Boba, you will share those coffee cakes with Sassy and the chipmunks. Do you understand me?”

“I hear ya,” he groused. “I don’t like it, but I’ll do it because I’m turnin’ over a new leak too.”

“Leaf,” I corrected him.

“I am,” he insisted.

“You’re what?” Damn I really needed to go back to bed. These assbuckets were confusing me more than usual.

“I’m leafin’ the damn kitchen and I promise to share the effing cakes,” he huffed indignantly.

“Mmmkay,” I said as I bit down on the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing at my cat. “Works for me.”

The kitchen was clearing out and I was glad. I needed a nap more than I needed to breathe at the moment.

“Zelda, will you be at both of your sessions today?” Roger asked as he put on his coat and slipped a coffee cake Boba had missed into his man purse.

“I have three today,” I reminded him as he blanched and then quickly covered it with a professional smile.

“Of course you do,” he agreed with forced enthusiasm. “I look forward to them. I’ll be at the office if anyone needs me,” Roger called out as he tore out of the house.

My dad and Mac stared at me and waited for an explanation that was not coming.

“What?” I asked, busying myself with clearing the table. I could have used magic, but I needed something to do so I didn’t have to explain my aggressive approach to therapy. Mostly because I wasn’t sure I understood my aggressive approach.

“You’re seeing Roger three times a day?” Fabio asked cautiously.

Mac just leaned back against the wall with his arms crossed over his broad chest and watched me as a small smile played at his lips. It made me want to kiss him—even with my dad standing in the room.

I had it really bad. No one should look as good as Mac did.

“Is something wrong with you?” Fabio asked still stuck on the fact that I was attending therapy like an addict.

“Is that a rhetorical question?” I snapped as I plopped my butt down on a chair and sighed dramatically.

The question was fair. It was odd what I was doing, but I was doing it for a reason. Everything, including not making the chipmunks eat their man junk, was because I was turning over a new leaf. I wasn’t the only one I cared about anymore. Come to think of it, I hadn’t really ever cared for myself. I was on my list of things to learn to love as well. However, there was a block and I couldn’t put my finger on it.

I was pretty sure I loved Fabio. And I was terrified that I was in love with Mac. I just was unsure if I loved myself. I was trying. Three-a-days were going to either help me succeed or ensure Roger’s early retirement.

“I’m just trying to figure stuff out,” I said not making eye contact with either of the men in my life. “I don’t want to talk about it. Okay?”

“I’m good with that,” Mac said. He walked over to the china cabinet and removed yet another coffee cake that had been hidden by my fat cats and placed it in front of me with a fork and a grin.

The wolf knew me well.

“I won’t mention it again,” Fabio promised. “That is, unless you want to talk.”

“Nope,” I said with a mouthful.

“Ohhhhh,” Fabio said as he ran his hands through his hair creating an alarming look. “Big news. The National Association of Shifter Thespians Yearly wants to review our show.”

“I thought we weren’t allowed to use the term thespian anymore,” I said.

“Did you even hear what I just said?” my dad demanded in a tizzy, wringing his hands nervously. “This is huge. This could be my big break to directing on Broadway or off-off-off Broadway. Or at least somewhere in Kentucky.”

“Yep. That’s great. And what’s even greater is that the acronym for them is NASTY. However, unless you rewrote the entire
nasty
piece of shit Bob penned, we’re going to get panned and your career will be over before it starts,” I told him as I offered Mac a large bite of my cake without stabbing him with a fork.

I really was maturing…

“Well,” Fabio began in a bizarrely high pitch as he rocked back and forth like he was on a ship at sea.

I closed my eyes because he was making me dizzy and his tone made me a tiny bit nauseous.

“There is one little itty bitty possible problem,” he said.

“And what would that be?” I asked through gritted teeth knowing the answer would suck.

“They’re coming in two days to see the show.”

“Um, that’s not an itty bitty problem,” I hissed in a pitch even higher than my dad had just used. My coffee cake now tasted like cardboard and I started to sweat. “That’s a clusterfuck in the making. We’ve had one and a half rehearsals and we have no script. We have one questionable dance number where thirty people are twerking with hangers and Sassy is probably going to hump anything that moves on the stage. Not an itty bitty problem.” I ended my rant in a shout that made both Mac and my dad wince.

“I rewrote it. We’re keeping the Wire Hanger number because it’s just on the very outer edge of being so bad it’s good, but the show is a one act now. It’s short and to the point. You’ll be wonderful. No rapping,” Fabio vowed.

My dad was now on his knees in front of me giving me the big eyes. It worked far better when he was a cat, but it still got me. Part of me wanted to embed my fork in his forehead, but I knew that was bad and not what the new and slightly improved Zelda would do. However, it was tempting.

“You’re serious?” I pushed out of my chair and with a quick pat to my dad’s head I paced the kitchen. In my distress, I found three more cakes that my obese cats had stowed away. Well at least I’d be able to eat myself into a stupor after I agreed to Fabio’s new and horrendous plan.

“You can do it, baby,” Mac said as he very kindly paced right along side me. “You’re a terrific actress.”

“When have you seen her act?” Fabio demanded and then screamed in panic. “NO. Do not tell me.”

Mac glanced at me quizzically and I just shrugged innocently. He really didn’t need to know that I’d traumatized my father with our fairy tale sex-capades. Just as Fabio didn’t need to know that his condom use was a boner killer for Mac and me. Total honesty was complete bullshit.

“How exactly do you plan to make this disaster happen?” I asked as I picked at the coffee cake, tearing the masterpiece to shreds.

“Well, Bob is notifying everyone as we speak and we’re going to do marathon rehearsals until show time,” Fabio mumbled as he went to the fridge and yanked out the ingredients for chocolate chip cookie dough.

He was going to need a lot more than raw gooey sugar to make me do this.

“I have therapy. I have dates with a wolf. Sassy is dumpster diving in the chipmunks’ brains. And someone named Ber wants me dead—I think. Houston, we have a problem here.”

“No, Jack Swigert. We don’t,” Fabio shot back with a grin.

“I can’t believe you knew the dude’s name,” I shouted and gave my dad a high five. “I didn’t even remember his name. I would have said Tom Hanks.”

“It should have been Kevin Bacon because he played Swigert, but Hanks said it in the movie,” Mac added with a smirk, not to be outdone by my dad’s knowledge of useless pop culture.

Mac got a high five, too, along with a covert butt grab. These were my kind of guys.

“However wonderful bonding over our love of Apollo 13 is, we really do have a problem,” I stated firmly. “No way can we do a show in two days. Even I know this.”

“We can and we will,” Fabio insisted as he shoved a full bag of mini chocolate chips into my hands. “I’ll record a voiceover of all the dialogue and the entire cast will act it out like a silent movie except for the Wire Hanger number. No one has to utter a word… thankfully. And Sassy’s absence from rehearsal won’t be a problem. She’ll be far better without practicing. Having her otherwise disposed gives her less time to come up with obscene and questionably legal character ideas.”

He did have a point.

“I don’t have to speak?” I asked warily as I tore open the bag and inhaled half of it.

“Nope,” Dad promised.

“Not one word?” There had to be a catch somewhere. There always was.

“Not one syllable. Witches Honor,” he swore. “I love you and think you’re amazing, but acting is really not your thing,” he admitted sheepishly. “But looking beautiful and standing center stage under a spotlight in fabulous clothes is! So it’s a win-win.”

Again, he had a point.

“And you really think the NASTY people can help your career?” I asked, absolutely adoring the acronym.

“Bob says they are
very
important and influential in the theatre world. He’s been trying to get them to review his shows for years,” Fabio said reverently. “This is… ”

“A possible clusterfuck if Ber the hypothetical lesbian shows up and tries to stop our play and off my untalented ass,” I reminded my dad. “And I’d also take anything Bob says with a vat of salt.”

“Speaking of Ber the sexually ambiguous bad guy, I’m going to triple the patrol. No one will get in or out of Assjacket without my knowledge,” Mac said as he gave me a quick peck on the lips.

“Sorry about our dates,” I told him as he moved toward the door.

Damn his ass was pretty in his jeans.

“Oh we’ll have our dates,” he promised with a sexy grin and a wink. “I’ll meet you at the Center on your breaks and between your marathon therapy sessions. We can go out back and… ”

“Hello,” Fabio grumbled, throwing his hands in the air. “Her father is in the room.”

“My bad,” Mac said, not meaning it.

Mac strode across the room, took me in his arms and laid one on my lips that left me breathless while my dad hissed and huffed.