Read Online WILLEM (The Witches of Wimberley Book 1) by Victoria Danann - Free Book Online
Authors: Victoria Danann
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portrait one more time, just couldn’t help myself, I walked two blocks up to the tavern. The calling card was the smell of charcoal-broiled hamburger and French fries, which carries for about a block around, and made me instantly ravenous.
It was early afternoon, but the place was still busy. I saw an open seat at the counter and headed in that direction. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that the other guys sitting at the bar were also contestants. I noticed Ivan and gave him a chin lift.
I ordered the burger basket with cheese, hickory sauce, a mix of plain and sweet potato fries and a Lonestar beer.
The guy next to me said, “You’re not going to have that physique for long eating like that.”
Looking him up and down, I went out of my way to be dismissive. Honestly, I’d never had a stranger comment openly about my ‘physique’ except in auditions.
“May the best man win,” I said.
I held up my longneck Lonestar beer. He held up his longneck IBC rootbeer. When we clinked bottles, he said, “Yeah. The best man. I’m Roger.”
“Willem,” I replied, having apparently lost the ability to make my tongue form the name ‘Will’.
“You going to the barbeque?”
“Came all the way from L.A. So, yeah. I’m gonna see where this leads.”
“L.A.?” he said. “I took you for a southerner.”
“Why’s that?”
“Don’t know. Just thought I heard it in your speech.”
After all the time, money and energy I’d spent getting rid of my accent, this wasn’t something I wanted to hear from Roger. Less than a day in Texas shouldn’t undo ten years of diction lessons.
“Where’re you from, Roger?”
“Minnesota.”
I laughed out loud. “That would be quite an adjustment, if you won. I mean I think it gets down to fifty degrees once or twice a year here.”
We chatted more or less amiably until my food came. I cut the burger in half. I wouldn’t have been surprised if there wasn’t a half pound of meat, done to perfection. I scarfed an Idaho fry, then a sweet potato fry, then bit into hickory cheeseburger heaven on Earth.
“Oh, man,” I said with my mouth half full. “I could eat here every day for the rest of my life and never get tired of this.”
Roger smirked. “So what’s your special talent?”
“Special talent?” I repeated stupidly.
“Yes. You weren’t just picked from the phone book at random. You know that, right?”
“Well,” I hesitated with burger heaven suspended just an inch from my mouth, “I hadn’t really thought about it. Maybe on some level?”
“Some level. Wow. What are you even doing here?”
“Heard the gig is a prize beyond compare.”
“Yeah,” he said, studying me. “That it is. So what do you do? For a living, I mean.”
“Out of work actor.”
“Really. Surprising. You’re good-looking enough to be in the movies.”
“That’s what I’ve been told by people who aren’t offering paying acting jobs.”
“Hmmm. Bummer.”
“How about you?”
“Roofer.”
“Roofer in Minnesota? You must have a lot of free time.”
“Really busy in the summer. Snow does a lot of damage to roofs. But I do have time for ice fishing.”
“So what brings you to this, ah, competition?”
“Roofing is rough. The work is so awful you can’t get anybody to do it except ex-cons and the only reason why they take the work is because nobody else will hire them. And let me tell you. There’s a reason why nobody else will hire them. If they had a work ethic, they wouldn’t have sought out a life of crime.”
“I can see that. So if you won, what would you do with your time?” I more or less repeated Blackwell’s question to me. He shook his head and looked embarrassed. “Come on. I won’t judge you.”
“I like orchids.”
“What?” I did my best to keep a straight face.
“You said no judging.”
“I’m not judging. I just, never mind.”
“I want to develop a new species that blooms longer.”
“Where did you go to
It was early afternoon, but the place was still busy. I saw an open seat at the counter and headed in that direction. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that the other guys sitting at the bar were also contestants. I noticed Ivan and gave him a chin lift.
I ordered the burger basket with cheese, hickory sauce, a mix of plain and sweet potato fries and a Lonestar beer.
The guy next to me said, “You’re not going to have that physique for long eating like that.”
Looking him up and down, I went out of my way to be dismissive. Honestly, I’d never had a stranger comment openly about my ‘physique’ except in auditions.
“May the best man win,” I said.
I held up my longneck Lonestar beer. He held up his longneck IBC rootbeer. When we clinked bottles, he said, “Yeah. The best man. I’m Roger.”
“Willem,” I replied, having apparently lost the ability to make my tongue form the name ‘Will’.
“You going to the barbeque?”
“Came all the way from L.A. So, yeah. I’m gonna see where this leads.”
“L.A.?” he said. “I took you for a southerner.”
“Why’s that?”
“Don’t know. Just thought I heard it in your speech.”
After all the time, money and energy I’d spent getting rid of my accent, this wasn’t something I wanted to hear from Roger. Less than a day in Texas shouldn’t undo ten years of diction lessons.
“Where’re you from, Roger?”
“Minnesota.”
I laughed out loud. “That would be quite an adjustment, if you won. I mean I think it gets down to fifty degrees once or twice a year here.”
We chatted more or less amiably until my food came. I cut the burger in half. I wouldn’t have been surprised if there wasn’t a half pound of meat, done to perfection. I scarfed an Idaho fry, then a sweet potato fry, then bit into hickory cheeseburger heaven on Earth.
“Oh, man,” I said with my mouth half full. “I could eat here every day for the rest of my life and never get tired of this.”
Roger smirked. “So what’s your special talent?”
“Special talent?” I repeated stupidly.
“Yes. You weren’t just picked from the phone book at random. You know that, right?”
“Well,” I hesitated with burger heaven suspended just an inch from my mouth, “I hadn’t really thought about it. Maybe on some level?”
“Some level. Wow. What are you even doing here?”
“Heard the gig is a prize beyond compare.”
“Yeah,” he said, studying me. “That it is. So what do you do? For a living, I mean.”
“Out of work actor.”
“Really. Surprising. You’re good-looking enough to be in the movies.”
“That’s what I’ve been told by people who aren’t offering paying acting jobs.”
“Hmmm. Bummer.”
“How about you?”
“Roofer.”
“Roofer in Minnesota? You must have a lot of free time.”
“Really busy in the summer. Snow does a lot of damage to roofs. But I do have time for ice fishing.”
“So what brings you to this, ah, competition?”
“Roofing is rough. The work is so awful you can’t get anybody to do it except ex-cons and the only reason why they take the work is because nobody else will hire them. And let me tell you. There’s a reason why nobody else will hire them. If they had a work ethic, they wouldn’t have sought out a life of crime.”
“I can see that. So if you won, what would you do with your time?” I more or less repeated Blackwell’s question to me. He shook his head and looked embarrassed. “Come on. I won’t judge you.”
“I like orchids.”
“What?” I did my best to keep a straight face.
“You said no judging.”
“I’m not judging. I just, never mind.”
“I want to develop a new species that blooms longer.”
“Where did you go to
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