"You mean all the bad poetry?"
"He was taking a Shakespeare class that semester."
"Don't tell me he's a Barry Manilow fan."
"No, that was the customer's request—they were looking for something really humiliating. The opera is pure Owen, though."
"So, how do I break this spell?"
"It's supposed to break when the victim meets someone he'd like even without a spell. Around the university, that meant it was usually over within a day or so."
"And if he doesn't? Or if he really does like the woman?"
"Then you'd have problems." He studied me for a while, and his gaze gave me shivers. I wasn't used to being looked at that way by men. The sweater Gemma loaned me must have been especially good with my coloring. "And I can see where that's a distinct possibility. Yeah, you should definitely talk to Owen if this guy keeps bugging you. He's probably got a back door built into the spell, so he could break it for you."
I wondered what Jeff's type would be. Dealing with the situation that way was far preferable to confessing my predicament to Owen. Whether or not he had any interest in me, I still had at least a minor crush on him, and the last thing any girl wants to do is talk about her dating woes to a man she's attracted to, especially when her dating woes are so weird.
I drained the last of my tea and said, "I'd better get home soon. My roommates will be dying to get the postdate debriefing."
He took my mug and carried it into the kitchen, then came back to the living room and helped me to my feet. "You okay now?"
"The shakes are pretty much gone. Thanks." I slipped my shoes back on and tested my balance in the high heels.
"Then I'll walk you home. You'll be safe there. The place is warded pretty well.
Owen took care of that a while ago."
"Warded?"
"No one can magically attack you in your apartment."
"But no one can attack me magically at all."
"They can't attack you directly with a spell, but they can use magic to get access to you so they can attack you physically. That's what happened tonight. Your attacker transported himself magically to get to you so you wouldn't hear him approaching."
"But I did hear something."
"That was me."
"Why didn't you say something? You scared me to death."
"Sorry about that. Anyway, your building is secured so no one can use magic to damage it, open locks, or anything else like that. Someone can still get in using purely physical means, but if your locks are good enough to protect you from the usual criminal elements, you should be okay."
"That's nice to know."
We walked to my building in silence. I was too busy thinking of the story I would tell my roommates to make conversation. At my building, he waited for me to unlock the front door, then said, "Have a good weekend. And don't worry, we'll keep an eye out for you."
"Thanks for the help, and the tea. I'll have to thank Ari later for the lifesaving."
And now I had to make the transition from the magical to the mundane. The big news from my evening wasn't the date, but as usual, I couldn't talk about the really interesting stuff.
Gemma and Marcia mobbed me as soon as I got home. Then I noticed that Connie was there, too. "That was a nice long dinner," Gemma said. "Things must have gone well."
I fought to hold back tears as I collapsed on the sofa.
"I don't think things went well," Connie said softly. She sat next to me and took my hand. "What happened?"
Gemma perched next to me on the sofa's arm. "Didn't you like him? I thought he was perfect." She sounded hurt.
"He was perfect. I liked him. I just don't think he liked me."
"Are you sure about that?"
"He left skid marks getting away from me."
"But that was a pretty long date if he didn't like you," Marcia said.
"I ran into a friend from work on my way home, and we talked awhile," I said.
All their faces fell. "You at least got dessert, right?" Connie asked.
"He said no thanks to the dessert tray before I had a chance to say anything."
"Then it sounds like you're better off without him," Connie declared. "Any man who would deny you dessert isn't worth having." Connie has a rather strong sweet tooth, so skipping dessert deserves the death penalty in her book. She's the one who taught me to carry chocolate in my purse.