Under His Spell

“What’s my name, Nicky?”

She didn’t answer. At best, her eyes went wider in horror.

He swallowed, feeling the sucker punch to his gut once again. It shouldn’t make a difference. So she didn’t remember who he was. His brother was right: he hadn’t been that memorable in high school. But this was Nicky. He’d shared the best night of his life with her. He’d forged a connection with her, damn it. Twice! Back years ago on prom night and again last night. She had to remember him.

“What’s my name, Nicky?” He still spoke quietly, but the gentle had gone out of him. His words came out more as a low command.

“Magic?” she finally said.

He stared at her, his pounding headache receding beneath the bare truth. “No,” he said slowly. “That’s not my name. Nicky, look at me.” He was pleading now, praying that in the harsh light of day she could look at him and know him. In fact, he stepped over to the curtains, hauling them open so that the sun shone harsh on his features.

She winced at the sudden flare of light. He did, too, for that matter. She swallowed and visibly drew in a breath, obviously trying to steady herself. Lord, he hated seeing her like that. She looked as if she was about to throw up.

“Let me give you a hint. We went to high school together.”

She blinked. Her expression shifted away from nausea, more to an intense confusion as she peered at him.

With a curse of disgust, he grabbed his glasses from his dresser and plopped them on his nose. “How about now?” he asked, then he gazed at her with a moony-eyed adoration that was, unfortunately, reflected in the mirror. He only saw it in his peripheral vision, but it was enough to churn up a well of self-disgust.

“Oh, my god! Jimmy Ray?”

“I go by Jim now. Sometimes James.”

Her hands dropped to her sides as she frowned, looking at him from top to bottom and then back up again. Her shoulders relaxed, but only a fraction of an inch. And then she just shook her head. “Jimmy,” she murmured, half to herself. “You’ve filled out.”

“I work out,” he returned. And was there ever a more inane conversation?

“Wow, Jimmy … uh, Jim.” She bit her lip. “You’re … a magician?”

He shook his head. “I’m an engineer who plays a magician on amateur night. Rick—my brother—owns the club and he calls me when they’re short an act.” Then his pride forced him to add, “But I’m a good engineer, so I’ve done well. And I’m taking a little time off right now. To … um … play.”

“Ah,” she said, nodding her head. He could tell she didn’t know what to say any more than he did. “Well, you always were good at anything you tried.”

Not true. He’d tried to impress her and had obviously failed miserably. But saying that would be surly. Humiliating, too. “You look like you’re doing well,” he said, gesturing to her wrinkled clothing. “Power suit and all.”

“Corporate America and all its pressures.” She shrugged. “I manage some distribution nodes for Korner Plastics.”

“Impressive.”

“Not really. It just requires a lot of time and attention to detail.”

“And you always sold yourself short,” he returned.

She didn’t answer. There was something in her eyes that he remembered, a vulnerability or an ache maybe. As if she wanted to believe what he said, but was too afraid. He shifted uncomfortably on his feet, the déjà vu making him reel. Hadn’t they played this scene before? Like ten years ago on prom night?

Before he could answer that question, a double electronic note sounded from downstairs. Beepbeep. Beepbeep. Her eyes widened, and her gaze hopped to the red numbers on his clock—9:14.

“Oh, crap. Crapcrapcrapcrapcrap!” Then she dashed downstairs.

He followed more slowly, mostly because he didn’t know what to say to her. He knew she was seconds away from rushing out the door, but for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out how he felt about that. This whole situation was just too bizarre.

By the time he made it to the first floor, she’d located her phone and was paging through messages. At least she’d stopped cursing, though he could hardly call it an improvement. Now her lips were pursed tight and her back was visibly hunched over her phone.

“Nicky …” he began. “I really want to talk to you …” He let his voice trail away. She wasn’t even looking at him but down at her phone. He’d faded from her conscious mind, her attention fixed on more important matters. Boy, did he remember this feeling. Ignored. Unimportant. How many times had he stood in the background watching her as she did something with someone else?

Well, he wasn’t that pathetic high school kid anymore. He wasn’t the school nerd with braces and acne. And he damn well was a decade beyond mooning after the hot volleyball player. With a snort of disgust, he turned his back on her and went into his bathroom. So maybe it was peevish of him to slam the door, but the resounding bang felt good.

This time he liked his reflection in the mirror. He looked strong and adult. All traces of adolescent yearning were erased from his body. Then he heard the front door open and close, and he sighed, accepting the truth. He’d had his shot at Nicky, and he’d failed. But that was it for him. A man could only take so much humiliation.

“Goodbye, Nicky.”

5

“LET’S GO OUT again tonight.”

Thanks to the miracles of Bluetooth, Nicky didn’t even need to take her hands off her keyboard to answer her little sister. “Sorry, Tammy, I’ve got to—”

“Work. No, you don’t. It’s Friday.”

Nicky didn’t even bother trying to explain that this crisis was different. Her boss had made it clear that if she even whispered the word layoff, she’d be fired on the spot. So she didn’t say anything. But it was one more stresser which threatened to send her over the edge. She keyed a new number into her spreadsheet and studied the result.

“Nicky!”

“Hmm? Oh, sorry. I can’t. I got in late today, this report isn’t setting up right, and—”

“And it’s Friday! Come on, Nicky. You had a good time last night, didn’t you?”

Her fingers froze over the number pad and her heart started thudding triple time. Her sister had finally managed to grab all her attention. “What do you mean?”

“What do you mean, what do I mean?”

Nicky clenched the edge of her desk, forcing herself to keep her voice normal. Even. “Tammy, I am not in the mood to play.”

“Like that’s different. Come on, sis, you relaxed last night. You were almost serene there at the end, don’t you remember? You actually forgot your phone on the table. I had to grab you and drop it into your purse. When was the last time that happened? You forgetting your cell?”

“Never,” Nicky murmured. Then she shook her head, though no one was there to see her. She didn’t remember forgetting her phone. She just remembered her sunlit island paradise and the god who’d created it for her. That the “god” was actually Jimmy Ray from high school just added more confusion to the whole situation. He’d been a friend when she needed one. A sweet guy she’d liked but never really thought much about in high school. Her life was too busy with other things, with flashier things, if she were to be honest.

But Jimmy Ray wasn’t forgettable now. She should know. She’d been trying to forget him all day, only to catch herself a moment later remembering the feel of his hands on her, the stroke of his tongue—and the way she had felt so absolutely free with him. That was the part she really couldn’t forget. She’d felt so safe that she had let herself do whatever sprang into her head with him. That hadn’t happened to her before. Ever.

What would she give to go to that place again? The question had been tantalizing her all day long. But then reality would hit with a gut-twisting wrench. She had school loans to pay off, a condo the bank mostly owned, a nest egg that was more like a nest prayer. She had to work, damn it. Jobs were on the line, and not just hers. So she swiveled her office chair to page through the dozens of papers on her desk, but her mind wasn’t really on her task. It had wandered somewhere else completely. “Hey, do you remember Jim from high school?”

There was a long pause on the other end of the line. “Jim who?”

“Jimmy. Dorky Jimmy—”

“Math geek guy! Yeah, his brother, Rick, owns the club we went to last night. What ever happened to him?”

“He became the Magic Man and starred on amateur night.”