Lone Star Magic (Shifters in the Heart of Texas Book 3) Read online

  Once back inside, she made her way to the relative seclusion of the back kitchen area and started breathing a little easier. She had a few minutes before her show was scheduled to start. She could catch her breath, and then put on her performing persona. The times when she was “on stage” were the happiest moments of Molly’s life. She felt powerful, confident, and important when she stood up and performed. No one made fun of her, because her show was impressive. And, after all, who would make fun of a magician for being eccentric? What was a magic show without a little side of crazy thrown in?

  Cassie stuck her head into the back room just then.

  “All ready, Molly?” she asked, a kind smile on her face.

  Molly nodded. She liked Cassie a lot. Even though Cassie had at first seemed hesitant about having the magic show at the bar, Cassie had never been unkind. Come to think of it, Cassie was one of the few women in Persimmon Springs who had never made fun of Molly. At least not to her face. But Cassie seemed like a genuinely nice person, and not at all like one of those people who would be sweet to your face and then laugh about you behind your back.

  “I’m going to announce you,” Cassie was saying. “And then you can come out and begin your show. Sound good?”

  Molly nodded again, and reached for the large bag of shimmering purple velvet that she called her “bag of tricks.”

  “I’m ready,” Molly said. “Thanks again for this opportunity.”

  Cassie’s smile widened. “Of course. I hope it works out well for you.”

  With that, Cassie disappeared back to the front of the bar. Molly took a deep breath and tried to calm her nervous jitters as she heard Cassie clapping her hands to get the attention of everyone in the bar.

  “Hey, Hometown Bar! Listen up! As many of you already know, tonight we have a special treat. Molly Graham, our very own hometown magician, is going to be performing for you. She’s about as talented as they come, so get ready for a night of spells and tricks! And if you enjoy the show, don’t be a stingy ass. Leave her a tip in this sparkly magic tip jar right here. And now, without further adieu, heeeeeeeeere’s Molly!”

  Molly took one last deep breath, and made a mental note to thank Cassie later for playing up the tip jar. Then, she put a big smile on her face and strode out into the bar.

  “Good Evening, Persimmon Springs,” she said with a dramatic bow. A few people clapped, and from the back corner booth, a few people let out a whoop for her. Molly squinted, and saw that the booth was occupied by the Wilson brothers and their friend, Max, who happened to be Cassie’s husband. Molly was grateful for their support, especially for Zane’s. She felt a lot of pressure to give him a good show, since she knew he was looking forward to it. This was going to be a tough crowd, though.

  Molly took just a few seconds to let her eyes scan the room, sizing up her audience. The place was full, and most people already had food and drinks. Several people looked quite tipsy already. That was Friday night for you. Happy hour started at three p.m. on Fridays, and many people had been camping out here since then. Molly was surprised they could sit up straight on their barstools at this point. Several people in the room were watching her expectantly, but many had already gone back to their own conversations at their table. Molly knew that hardly anyone was expecting much from her show tonight. She knew that a large number of people probably felt pity for her, standing up there on the stage in her crazy outfit for all to see. But, for once, Molly didn’t feel small or scared. Magic was her strength. She was damn good at it, and she was going to show this crowd that they had no idea what they’d been missing.

  “Welcome to the magic zone,” she said loudly, flipping her glittering cape through the air with a flourish. “Where anything can happen.”

  A few more people glanced up curiously, wondering what this crazy magician was going to do next. Molly knew she had a few minutes to really capture their attention or she would lose them. She had to start off with a bang.

  And she did. For her first trick, she sawed herself in two, then put herself back together again right in front of the crowd. It was the hardest optical illusion she performed, and, quite honestly, it was the only trick she did that she wasn’t one hundred percent confident with. But when done right, it was undeniably impressive. And tonight, she nailed it. The crowd gasped and cheered as she completed the trick, and Molly took a gracious bow before moving on to her disappearing bunny act. By this point, most of the room had stopped their conversation and had fixed their eyes on her. When Molly appeared to make a real live bunny appear out of thin air and then disappear again, the bar went wild.

  From there, Molly really shined. Her confidence had gone up exponentially after she successfully completed the first two tricks. And having the undivided attention of the crowd filled her with an energy she hadn’t felt in quite some time. She continued on, pulling coins from behind people’s ears, levitating several feet above the bar’s floor, and breathing fire which turned into coffee. Everyone in the room was on the edge of their seat, and Molly kept them that way for the better part of an hour. When she finally declared the show was over and took a bow, the room started chanting, “Encore! Encore!”

  Molly smiled, her heart swelling with happiness. It had been so long since she’d felt this rush that she got from performing, and it had been even longer since she’d heard the words “encore” yelled to her. She obliged the crowd with one last trick, swallowing a sword right before their eyes. And then, she took one last bow and disappeared to the kitchen again, taking her velvet bag of tricks with her. She could hear the crowd in the bar going wild, and screaming for another encore. But Molly had no more energy. She had given her all to this show, and she was completely spent.

  She leaned her back against the cool wall on the side of the kitchen that was near the giant walk-in refrigerator, and then slid down the wall until she was sitting on the ground, her glittering cape falling in uneven folds around her. She could hardly believe what had just happened. She had never thought she would see the day that a huge crowd in Persimmon Springs was cheering for her. She had worried, even tonight, that they would never be able to accept her and her magic. But they had! And they had loved it. Molly sat on that kitchen floor for several minutes, soaking in the sweet feeling of victory that was washing over her. She had actually pulled it off. She’d given a damn good show, and the crowd had loved it. It felt so good to perform again.

  After twenty minutes had passed, Cassie came back into the kitchen, holding the sparkling tip jar in her hands. Molly’s eyes widened when she saw that it was overflowing with money. And not just coins—bills! From the looks of it, there were several twenties in there, too. It wasn’t just a few puny dollars.

  “You cleaned up tonight,” Cassie said with a giant smile on her face. Molly took the sparkling tip jar from her with shaking fingers. She was going to be able to eat this week! And to make more cookies. She tried to keep back the tears stinging at her eyelids, but it was no use. They spilled over before she could stop them.

  “Thank you,” Molly said, her voice barely more than a whisper.

  Cassie shrugged. “Don’t thank me. You did all the work.”

  “But you gave me the opportunity,” Molly said.

  “And I’m going to continue to give you the opportunity if you want it,” Cassie said. “How would you feel about doing an encore show tomorrow night? And then making the show a regular Friday night thing?”

  “I would love to,” Molly choked out. “Thank you.”

  “You’re very welcome,” Cassie said. “I’m glad this went so well for you. Now, you must be starving after all that hard work. Do you want some food, and a beer? On the house, of course.”

  “Sure, if it’s not too much trouble,” Molly said, trying to keep her voice casual. In reality, she was starving. She hadn’t had a decent meal in the last few days. She’d been living off of the fumes left in her pantry at home. She knew if she’d told Cassie this, Cassie would have insisted on feeding her even bef
ore the show had started. But Molly was embarrassed to admit that things had gotten that bad for her.

  “No trouble at all. What would you like?” Cassie asked.

  And so, fifteen minutes later, Molly was sitting in Cassie’s office at the bar, wolfing down a giant burger and fries, with a huge mug of a local IPA next to her. Her stomach slowly stopped growling, and Molly relished the feeling of actually having a full stomach. She would never take that for granted again. She had sorted and counted her money while she waited for her food, and she was in shock. She had made over fifteen hundred dollars tonight. She could get some groceries, and have almost enough left over to pay her mortgage. If tomorrow night went well, she would probably have as much as she needed.

  Molly knew that she wasn’t likely to make this much every single show. But even if she made a fraction of this, and could do a show every week, things would be so much better. She could scrape by, and get herself on her feet again. And she could figure out how to make a steady living once again. The relief that Molly felt was immense.

  By the time Molly packed away her tips and picked up her bag of tricks to walk home, she was exhausted. She didn’t feel like making the three mile trek on foot, but she didn’t have much of a choice. She could probably have asked Cassie to help her find a ride, but Molly was too proud to admit she needed help. At least she didn’t have to walk on an empty stomach.

  Molly quietly slipped out the back door of the bar. The parking lot was still quite full, although there were a few less cars than there had been earlier that evening. People were slowly starting to head home. Molly noticed with slight disappointment that Zane’s truck was still there. She’d been hoping that he might have left already, and left her a note. That would have rounded out the evening perfectly. But he was still inside the bar, and the note she’d written him was still waiting patiently under his windshield wiper. Molly sighed. At least she knew she had put on a good show for him tonight. Hopefully he had enjoyed it. She hoped that next time he wrote a note, he would mention to her what he thought of “Molly Graham’s magic show.”

  In the meantime, Molly had a long walk home. She trudged silently away from the parking lot in the direction of her house, tired but happy.

  Chapter Six

  Zane shrugged into his zip-up hoodie as he left the noise of the bar for the relative quiet of the parking lot. His brothers and Max were still living it up inside, but Zane had had about all the socializing he could take for one night. It had been easier than the night before, at least. But he still couldn’t keep up a happy mood for too long these days.

  Molly Graham’s show had helped. Zane had heard she was good, so he had expected to be impressed by the show. But he hadn’t realized just how much she would wow him. The distraction had been good for him. It was hard to think too much about your problems when you were so wrapped up in trying to figure out how someone could saw themselves in half right in front of you.

  And, wow—Molly had looked stunning. Zane knew people thought she looked a little crazy, but he couldn’t keep his heart from beating a little faster at how amazing she was in her deep purple magician’s cape. It sparkled with every tiny move she made, as did her face, which was covered with shimmering makeup. Her wild red hair had curled out from beneath her magician’s hat in what could only be described as a perfect mess, and her green eyes had glittered with mischief as she went through her performance. Zane knew it was ridiculous for him to have a crush on Molly. He doubted a wild child like her would be interested in a boring, straight-laced guy like himself. And, besides, he was still grieving over the loss of Sasha. Any attraction he felt to Molly was probably just his heart trying to distract itself with something new.

  “Speaking of distractions,” Zane said as he approached his truck and saw that he had another note in his windshield. He looked around the parking lot, quickly realizing that no other vehicles had notes. His little mystery writer had specifically targeted him and him alone tonight. Somehow, the thought made him feel extra special.

  “Get it together, man,” Zane said as he pulled the note off his windshield. What was wrong with him? First, he was fantasizing about a magician he barely knew. Then, he was getting excited about a note from someone whose name he did not even know. He was a mess. But the realization that he was acting ridiculous didn’t stop him from excitedly unfolding the note to read what it said. Zane squinted to make out the words in the dim glow of the parking lot lights. The mystery writer had said she was sorry about his girlfriend, and that she thought any girl who left him was a fool. Zane paused when he read that. Was she actually flirting with him by saying that, or was she just being nice? Zane frowned, mentally chastising himself for hoping that the girl was flirting. He turned his attention back to the note, and read on, smiling when the woman agreed to give him one more hint about who she was. His heart started beating faster when he read the hint: the woman had green eyes. Molly Graham’s face immediately jumped into Zane’s mind. She had green eyes, and Zane had been quite enthralled by them tonight. Could Molly be the mystery writer? After all, he knew she had been here at the bar tonight. She could have easily found time to put a note on his car.

  But Zane pushed the thought away. That would be too much of a weird coincidence. Besides, if the girl was Molly, she probably would have reacted in a much stronger way when Zane had mentioned that he was going to the magic show. There were lots of green-eyed women. He couldn’t automatically assume the mystery writer was Molly, without any further proof. Zane reread the note one more time, smiling at how caring the woman seemed about his problems. He had to admit that he felt a bit flattered. His brothers wanted him to get over Sasha already. He loved them, but they sometimes acted like such typical men. At least they stopped short of actually telling him to go sleep with a new woman to get over Sasha. They knew better than to say something like that. Zane didn’t play those games.

  But this mystery writer acknowledged his feelings. He did recognize the irony of having a crush on a mystery woman because that woman validated his pain over a recent breakup. But Zane shrugged off the weirdness as he hopped into his truck. He was going to go easy on himself right now. He’d had a hard week, and if he wanted to simultaneously mourn over a breakup while also having a crush on a magician he didn’t know and a mystery writer whom he knew even less, well…so be it. No one else had to know how weird his internal thoughts had become.

  Zane pulled out his notepad from the glove box and sat with his pen poised over the paper for several minutes. He knew he was agonizing too much over what to say, but he couldn’t help himself. He had this strange, insatiable desire for this mystery woman to like him. Finally, he decided on what to say, and started writing.

  Thank you for your caring words. I must say, the magic show was amazing. It did help distract me from my current troubles.

  Zane felt a pang of guilt as he wrote this. Would the mystery woman be jealous that he was praising Molly? Zane rubbed his forehead. He was way over thinking this. It’s not like he had said anything romantic about Molly. And, besides, it’s not like he was dating either one of these woman. It shouldn’t matter to the mystery woman that he mentioned another woman’s magic show was good. He didn’t mean anything by it.

  Or did he?

  Zane felt a little thrill go through his body when he thought of Molly. He forced himself to push the feeling away and go back to writing his note. He decided to opt for a little flirtation, and see if the woman responded.

  Of course, your notes have been a good distraction as well. You know just how to puff up a man’s fragile ego, don’t you? I’m flattered that you would say any woman who would leave me is a fool, but I’m afraid you might be overestimating my good qualities a bit. I’m alright, but I suppose there are better, more attractive candidates out there. That’s why she left.

  Zane paused again. His note was veering into a little bit of a bitter tone now, and that’s not what he wanted to portray. He sighed, and decided to move on to another attempt
to pull more information from the mystery woman about who she might be.

  But enough about me. Are you sure you’re not going to give me another hint about who you are? Not even one tiny hint? You know who I am, and quite a bit about me. Tell me one more thing about you! What about your hair color? I already know your eyes are green (I love green eyes by the way), so if I knew your hair color I could imagine you even better in my mind.

  Zane frowned. When he wrote about green eyes, all he could think about were Molly’s emerald eyes. He felt a pang of guilt again, and decided it was time to wrap up this note and head home.

  You have to give me at least one more hint! I’ll be waiting for your response! And thank you again for all your kind words. Your notes have truly brightened my week.

  Zane quickly taped the note to the tree near his truck, then hopped back in the cab and fired up the engine. His heart was beating faster thinking about both Molly and the mystery woman, and he felt like he was going crazy. He had to get out of here. Maybe he just needed to sleep on things, and he wouldn’t be so scrambled and full of nonsensical puppy love in the morning.

  Zane turned his car in the direction of his house and cranked up his favorite country music station. He sang along at the top of his lungs, trying to drown out the noise in his head. Once he was about a mile out from Persimmon Springs’ city center, the road was empty and deserted. Zane rolled the window down, letting the cool breeze whip at his face while he sang. He was likely annoying the residents of the houses he was driving by, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care right now. He was feeling lost, hurt, and confused. He deserved a few minutes of windows down, radio blasting, top of your lungs singing.