For Love or Magic by Lucy March Page A

about Desmond Lamb?”
    She patted me on the arm. “It’s okay, honey. There’s no judgment here. We all make poor choices. I would tell you about some of the women I slept with in the eighties, but it might put hair on your chest.”
    â€œI’m sorry. Are you under the impression that I slept with Desmond Lamb?”
    She gave me a disappointed look. “We’re all women of the world. Let’s not be coy. Larry told me that you two left his bar together yesterday.”
    â€œWe didn’t leave together, and … wait. Larry? Happy Larry, you mean?” I couldn’t picture Happy Larry even noticing when I left, or with whom, much less caring.
    â€œYes,” she said. “Speaking of which, you start working for him tomorrow afternoon, four sharp. But we’ll get to that later.”
    â€œWait. What? What do you mean, I start tomorrow? I haven’t even applied yet.”
    â€œThat’s okay. You don’t need to. I talked to Larry last night, and it’s all set. He liked you.”
    Out of all the surprises in my life, that was probably the biggest one. Not necessarily that Larry had liked me, I’m delightful, but that he liked anyone. At all.
    â€œI got you full minimum wage plus tips,” Addie went on. “That’s a hell of a deal for someone with your weird skill set, no offense.”
    â€œNone taken,” I said, “but—”
    â€œOh, and he said you could keep Seamus in a doghouse in the alley if you don’t want to leave him home alone.”
    The surprises just kept on coming. “Wow. Really?”
    She rolled her eyes, a gleeful smile on her lips, and I got the feeling that there was nothing that Addie loved more than managing other people’s lives. “Larry puts on a show, but he’s really just a big marshmallow. But don’t distract me! We need to talk about Desmond Lamb first.”
    I picked up my mug and took a sip of tea. “I’m not sure we do.”
    She put her hand on my arm. “Now, I know he’s all mysterious and British and good-looking in a beady-eyed kind of way,” she said charitably, “but you have to trust me. Desmond Lamb is not a good man.”
    She said those words carefully, as though there was much more to the story, and it practically killed her not to tell me. But whatever had happened here with Desmond, it was obviously more than just a story. It was personal, and she was genuinely worried about me.
    â€œYeah, there seems to be a misunderstanding here,” I said. “I met Desmond Lamb yesterday, but there’s nothing going on between us. Seriously. I’m freshly widowed, and dealing with that is enough for me right now.”
    â€œGood,” Addie said, seeming to finally believe me. “You don’t want a man like Desmond Lamb, especially not for your first after your husband died.” Her eyebrows rose. “I’m sorry. I’m assuming he would be the first. How long ago did your husband pass away?”
    â€œEight months, and yes, Desmond would be my first.”
    Addie’s eyebrows ticked up, and I realized what I’d just said.
    â€œNo, I didn’t mean … he won’t be. I’m not interested in Desmond Lamb. I mean, I find him … interesting. A little. Town like this, you meet a guy who’s just sitting in a bar, reading Sartre…”
    â€œSip your tea, darling, you’re getting a little red in the face,” Addie said, a glint in her eye as she nudged the mug toward me.
    â€œStop that,” I said, laughing. “Look, I’m interested, but I’m not interested. Curious, I guess, but not in a sexual way or anything. He’s interesting. Just in the normal way that people interest other people.” I took a breath to reset myself and met Addie’s amused eye as I spoke the honest truth. “I’m not in a place where I’m ready to get into anything