Bewitching Bitters Read online

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Author’s Note

  Chapter One

  Kate Golden was partial to autumn. She liked the crisp air and the sound of crunching leaves. The trees in her picturesque town of Lake Cloverleaf had a way of surprising her every year, as though she had no idea the green leaves would eventually give way to golden, crimson, and burnt orange hues. This season was also her favorite because it meant a return to routine after the chaos of summer with three kids home from school. Routine meant habits and established habits meant order. She could control a routine for the most part—could identify the gaps or potential pitfalls of a schedule, a necessary part of motherhood. If the unexpected happened, like one of her three children became ill, she could continue to keep the rest of the balls in the air, all thanks to the routine.

  “Mommy, are you giving me the good milk?” Six-year-old Ava rested her round chin on the island in the kitchen and fixed her mother with a skeptical eye.

  Kate smiled at her youngest child. “Would I try to fool you?”

  Ava inched closer to peer into the open lunchbox. “It looks like plain white milk.”

  Kate scooped the small carton out of the lunchbox and held it up for inspection. “Vanilla, see? V-a-n-i-l-l-a. Sound it out.”

  Ava nodded, satisfied. It was the dismissive nod of a queen to her royal subject, the kind that instructed staff to ‘carry on,’ and Kate couldn’t help but smile. Ava had inherited her mother’s authoritative air, that much was obvious.

  Her oldest child, fourteen-year-old Gavin, entered the kitchen with his backpack already slung over his shoulders. “Don’t forget I have soccer practice.”

  Like Kate, he was always punctual and organized. Unlike Kate, he didn’t seem to exert any effort to make those things happen. They came as naturally as breathing, whereas Kate only made hers appear effortless to others. She was the only one who knew how hard she had to work for it.

  Kate cocked an eyebrow. “Have I ever once forgotten?”

  “It’s the same as telling me to be careful when I get on a Jet Ski,” Gavin said. “Am I ever not careful?”

  “Can’t argue with his logic.” Lucas, Kate’s husband, came gliding into the kitchen, ruffling his son’s hair as he moved past him.

  “Oh, good. You’re down early. Do you think you could finish packing these lunches? It’s video day and I need to hustle.”

  He kissed her cheek. “Sorry, can’t. I’m ready early because I need to get to the office. I’ve got a morning meeting and you know how they throw off the rest of my day.” Lucas worked in financial services and meetings were the bane of his existence.

  “No worries.” Kate disguised her annoyance with a smile. She made a point of never arguing in front of the children. Although she was aware of the studies that said kids could learn a lot from watching their parents resolve conflicts, she was a child of divorce and refused to give off even the slightest whiff of discontentment.

  “I can help,” Brett said.

  Kate hadn’t even noticed her middle child was there. “Thank you for the offer, but you don’t even have your shoes on yet. Get yourself ready, please. I’ll handle this.” She watched with brewing resentment as Lucas poured the remaining coffee from the pot into a travel mug.

  “See you tonight,” he said.

  Ava hopped from one foot to the other and held up her arms for a goodbye kiss. Lucas lifted her high into the air before indulging her with a smack on the lips. Ava giggled as he returned her to the floor.

  “‘Bye Dad,” Brett said.

  Lucas waved and sailed out of the room, leaving Kate to finish morning prep on her own, not that it was unusual. As Kate finished packing lunches, she consulted the large whiteboard on the wall that listed the week’s activities and appointments to make sure she hadn’t missed anything.

  “Oh,” Ava exclaimed. “I need my special object.”

  Inwardly, Kate groaned. “What special object?” There was no special object written on the whiteboard, which meant that no one had informed Kate.

  “It’s my day to bring something in.” Ava’s eyes were round with worry and Kate knew she had to keep a calm voice or a meltdown would soon follow. She didn’t have room in the schedule for a meltdown.

  “What about the picture you drew for Daddy yesterday?” Kate asked. “I’d say that’s pretty special.”

  Ava shook her head, causing her blond ringlets to bounce like springs. “No, I want to bring my unicorn.”

  “Then go get it,” Kate urged. “We have a few minutes.”

  “I’m faster. I can get it for you,” Brett said. Without waiting for a response, he rushed upstairs.

  “That was nice. Make sure you say thank you to your brother.”

  Ava pursed her lips thoughtfully. “Actually, I think I want to bring Periwinkle instead.” She tipped back her head and shouted upstairs. “I want Periwinkle!”

  Kate winced at the mention of the toy dragon. She heard retreating footsteps as Brett returned to Ava’s room to swap beloved toys. Periwinkle had been a gift from Kate’s father before he died. She wondered what made Ava think of it now. As far as Kate knew, Ava hadn’t touched Periwinkle in a year.

  Brett returned to the kitchen and presented his sister with the plush purple dragon.

  Ava clutched the toy to her chest as though it had been rescued from quicksand or some other dire situation. “Thank you. Thank you.”

  “Is everyone ready?” Kate asked. “We need to get going.” Three heads nodded their assent. “Okay, grab your things.” She handed each of them a lunchbox as she headed for the door with her handbag and keys.

  “Wait, I need to pee.” Ava dashed to the powder room.

  Gavin rolled his eyes with a huff. “She does this all the time. Why don’t you make her go sooner?”

  “She’d still decide to go right before we get in the car,” Kate reasoned. “That’s why I set the clocks five minutes ahead.” She winked and opened the door so the other two could get settled in the Land Rover.

  Once they were on the road, Kate felt a familiar pressure in her chest. Every morning was a challenge. She had to deliver two kids to one school and Ava to the ‘morning start’ program. As a kindergartener, Ava started school an hour later than the boys, but Kate had signed her up for a foreign language program that alternated between French and Spanish. She’d regretted not starting the boys with a foreign language earlier, especially after reading that the older kids were when they started, the less likely they were to ever be fluent. Kate wanted to set her kids up for success and she’d already ruined their chances at fluency.

  Only after depositing each child at the necessary place without a hiccup did Kate feel like she could draw breath. She drove straight home and prepared to tackle the next segment of her day—exercise. Today was her Peloton day, which meant a full hour on the bike. Kate had exercised regularly throughout most of her forty-eight years, including throughout the first eight months of each pregnancy, so she’d managed to maintain a slim figure that was the envy of most women in Lake Cloverleaf. Her best friend Libbie had been grappling with the same extra ten pounds for years and Kate didn’t think she’d be able to shed them now without a concerted effort. She suspected Libbie was too involved with her new catering business and a new man in her life to worry about
love handles right now.

  Kate looked forward to her Peloton days. There was an air of competition involved and Kate was driven by an innate desire to be the best at everything she touched. Even fun activities brought out her competitive nature to the point where Gavin once requested that she not attend Field Day at school because she took it ‘too seriously.’

  After a satisfactory hour on the bike, Kate showered and dressed, choosing a cobalt blue top that complemented her eyes. She needed to look good from the waist up for her recording session. She was what the kids called a YouTuber, except her channel was aimed at adults interested in self-improvement. Once a week, she uploaded a video that encouraged people to be the best versions of themselves, whatever that meant for them. Her channel had recently passed one million subscribers, a goal Kate had set for herself three years earlier. She also offered individual consulting on the side. Corporate executives, trophy wives, salespeople, and others with disposable income flocked to Kate seeking advice or a new direction in life. It made Kate feel good to empower them.

  Lucas liked to tease her about her beauty regimen, but the truth was that nobody with any sense took advice from a slob with knotted hair and a stained shirt. Kate had to look as perfect as her subscribers believed her to be, and that meant shiny blond hair and flawless skin. As far as she was concerned, her quarterly trip to the dermatologist for Botox injections was a business expense.

  Kate studied her face in the mirror and noticed a blemish on her chin. The past couple years, her skin had become worse than during her teen years. She cursed perimenopause under her breath and wished the whole ridiculous phase would come to an end. Unfortunately, her doctor had told her that perimenopause could last a decade before regular menopause finally took hold. Kate dismissed the thought from her mind. If anyone could will full-blown menopause into existence, she could.

  She covered the blemish with makeup and retreated into her office that doubled as a studio. The room had excellent natural light, which was crucial for making her videos look professional. Lighting was key. She’d rather have a bad camera and good lighting than the other way around. Luckily, she had a good camera and good lighting thanks to the income she earned from advertisers on the channel.

  She settled into her chair and noticed Cat-Cat sleeping on the corner of the desk. Cat-Cat had belonged to her dear friend Inga Paulsen, who’d died of a heart attack in July. Inga had packed more lifetimes into her eighty-five years than anyone Kate had ever met. They’d been members of the same cocktail club and, for years, they’d met every Friday to share drinks and stories and encouragement. The cat had been named after Catherine Schuyler, one of the Schuyler sisters not included in Hamilton: An American Musical. Kate and the other members of the cocktail club—Libbie Stark, Julie Duncan, and Rebecca Angelos—had each inherited one of Inga’s cats. The difference was that her friends liked animals, whereas Kate had always considered them too messy and too much work with minimal reward. She only tolerated Cat-Cat because the creature had belonged to Inga. The kids seemed to like her well enough and that made Kate feel better. She didn’t want to neglect the cat, but she had little interest in actually befriending her.

  The cat lifted her head and opened a lazy eye to regard Kate.

  “You won’t be able to stay there,” she said curtly. “I’m recording a video soon.” She wouldn’t risk looking like an amateur by allowing her cat to walk across the desk in the middle of today’s talk.

  The cat lowered her head again.

  Kate reviewed the morning’s emails and messages and took the time to respond to each one. Her personal policy was a twenty-four-hour turnaround. A lack of response was deemed a personal failure for Kate. After the emails and messages, she scanned the recent comments on her last video. She noted the number of ‘thumbs down’ had increased by three since yesterday. What exactly did those people find fault with? Kate chalked them up to jealous haters. The world was full of them.

  Three kids. Gorgeous and fit. Generous to a fault. I don’t know how you do it.

  You’re amazing. I want to be like you when I grow up and I’m 62, LOL.

  Best motivational speaker out there. I wish you’d come to my town.

  Kate glanced at the poster’s location. North Dakota. Not likely.

  No trolls, so that was a plus. She didn’t have time for trolls today, not that she ever engaged. She’d once been tempted to set up a dummy account to battle the trolls, but she decided to heed her own advice and not let them distract or drain her. She would continue to direct her energy where it had the most positive impact.

  Kate responded to the next email that came in. It was a compulsion to clear her inbox more than anything. If she didn’t respond in a timely manner, they might stop believing in her. Stop seeing her as perfect or—even worse—stop seeing her at all.

  She glanced at the open notebook on the desk and ticked off the box for ‘correspondence’ on the checklist. Next she moved to her gratitude list. Every morning she acknowledged the things in her life for which she was grateful. It was the same list every day and she recited each item on the list out loud. She advised all her clients and viewers to keep a gratitude journal or something similar. No matter how tough things were, there was always something to be thankful for.

  Before she prepared to review her notes for today’s talk, her gaze fell on the black leather-bound book she’d received upon Inga’s death. Kate missed Inga terribly. The older woman’s presence had taken the pressure off Kate to be the one everyone looked to for guidance and leadership. For a few hours each week, someone else was in charge and Kate had looked forward to the break the way exhausted people looked forward to a nap. She and her friends had been rotating hostess duties since Inga’s death and they always made sure to toast to Inga. The older woman had brought something special to their cocktail club. Of course, Kate had had no idea that ‘something special’ had been witchcraft. According to Inga’s lawyer and Libbie’s now-boyfriend, Ethan Townsend, Inga had been a witch and her will had been governed by a document called the Witch’s Covenant. No one knew the origin of the covenant, only of its existence. Witches are created, not born, Ethan had told them.

  As a witch, Inga was able to divide her magical ‘assets’ among the four remaining members of the cocktail club, including Kate, which meant they were now witches too. Witches passed pieces of their spirit from one generation to the next, forming a true sisterhood. The friends had laughed and called themselves the Dread Pirate Witches, named after the Dread Pirate Roberts in The Princess Bride. Kate had opened a seemingly empty jar that smelled like Inga after one too many garlic bagel chips, and the friends had experienced a...sensation. Each woman had also received a blank book. So far, Libbie was the only one whose book had manifested words on the pages in the form of cocktail recipes.

  Kate flipped open the book and her jaw clenched at the sight of the blank pages. Still nothing.

  Lorraine, another witch they’d consulted to learn more about their inheritance, had said their magic would appear when they were ready to receive their gifts. Yet somehow Libbie had been the first one to experience magic. Kate and Libbie had been best friends since seventh grade and never once had Libbie been more prepared than Kate for anything.

  “How am I not ready?” she asked. She was Kate Golden, dammit. She was born ready.

  She set aside the book with an annoyed huff and shifted her attention to today’s video. The topic was ‘How to Be the Best Version of You;’ it was one she’d covered before in a dozen different ways, but it was worthy of repetition. Too many people gave up too soon or believed they’d made more of an effort to achieve their goals than they actually had. Kate wanted to encourage them to try harder, dig deeper, find a new perspective—anything that allowed them to access that part of themselves deemed lost or nonexistent.

  She shooed the cat out of the office and closed the door so there was no chance of reentry in the middle of recording. She adjusted the lighting for the video and double-check
ed her reflection in the mirror she kept in the drawer. Not a hair out of place. No lipstick on her teeth. She plastered a smile on her face and hit the button on the keyboard to record.

  Twenty minutes later, she replayed the video and made adjustments as needed. Although she wasn’t a professional editor, she’d taught herself how to make high-quality videos and the results spoke for themselves. She uploaded the video and immediately ticked the box on her checklist.

  Done.

  Kate devoted her final block of uninterrupted time to putting the finishing touches on a book proposal. A book deal was Kate’s white whale, the unchecked box on her list of goals. If she got a book deal, then she’d finally have everything she ever wanted. She’d finally be everything she ever wanted. She’d initially hoped one of the major publishers would come knocking on her door once her channel grew in popularity. When that failed to happen, Kate decided to follow her own advice and take matters into her own hands.

  Between her channel and thousands of social media followers, she already had a platform, which meant marketing reach. She was a seasoned entrepreneur. An influencer. Any publishing company would be lucky to have her.

  Once the proposal was ready, she emailed her top three choices. She’d considered doing it the other way, starting with the companies she was least interested in so she could practice her pitch on them. In the end, she decided the proposal was as ready as it could be and she didn’t want to wait.

  Kate was ready to tick that last box.

  Chapter Two

  “I don’t like cooked carrots,” Ava said. She leaned her elbow on the table and heaved a world-weary sigh.

  Kate had cooked Shepherd’s pie for dinner. It was Gavin’s favorite and she always made an effort to cook one of their favorite meals on the nights when Lucas worked late, which was often.