The Lesser-Favored Soul Sister

She needs a man.

The best person is to have $150,000 left over to share.

Carina Scodelario stared at the small bonfire she burned herself in the middle of her living room floor and wondered if she had completely lost her mind. The piece of paper in her hand contained all the qualities she dreamed her soulmate would have. Loyalty. Intelligence. Sense of humor. A strong sense of family and love for animals. And a solid income.

Most of her ingredients are being boiled. A hair from a family member – her brother is still angry. A combination of aromatic herbs – will probably give him a gentle personality. And a small bar for... uhm, she hoped it wouldn't deliver what she feared.

Taking a deep breath, she threw the list into the silver bucket and watched it burn. She felt like an idiot casting a love spell, but she had no other choice and so little to lose. As the owner of a philosophy bookstore in trendy New York City, she allowed herself to accept the fact that it was ironic. It is like sending a prayer to Mother Earth for a perfect man.

Carina went to find the fire extinguisher and put out the burning fire. The smoke rose and reminded her of the black crust of a pizza burned on the underside of her toaster. She wrinkled her nose, sprayed it in the center of the carpet, and went to get a glass of red wine to celebrate.

Her mother would have to sell Tara.

Her family's home.

Carina took a bottle of red cabernet sauvignon and thought about her dilemma. Her bookstore was fully mortgaged. The expansion of the cafe was carefully planned in detail and not a single penny was left over. She glanced at the entire Victorian loft and easily calculated that there was nothing left to sell. No, not even on eBay.

She is 27 years old and maybe she should be living in a stylish apartment, with designer clothes and dating every weekend. Instead, she adopted a homeless dog from a local shelter and bought a simple scarf to update her wardrobe. She believes in living in sunlight, is open to all possibilities, and follows the logic of her heart. Unfortunately, none of those traits would save her mother's home.

She took a sip of red wine and admitted that there was nothing more she could do. No one has enough money, and when the tax collector arrives, it won't have a happy ending. She is not Scarlett O'Hara (the heroine in Margaret Mitchell's Gone With the Wind). And Carina didn't think the last attempt at casting a love spell to call the perfect man to her door would be helpful.

The doorbell rang.

Her mouth opened. My God, is it him? She looked at her sweaty dirty pants and oversized T-shirt and wished if she had time to change. She got up to rummage through the entire closet, but the bell rang again, so she went out, took a deep breath, and grabbed the doorknob.

"You took a long time to open the door."

Her hopes dropped. Carina stared at her best friend, Anna Swann, and frowned. "Because you're supposed to be a man."

Anna snorted and entered. She waved a hand in the air, flashing her cherry red fingernails, and landed on the sofa. "Ha, keep dreaming. You're scared of the guy you date that doesn't work out so I won't help you again. What's going on here?"

"What do you mean I'm afraid of him? I thought he was going to attack me."

Anna raised an eyebrow. "He leaned over to give you a goodnight kiss. You tripped and fell on your ass, and he felt like an idiot. People usually kiss after a date, Al. It's a common ritual."

Carina dumped the remains of the trash into the bag and lifted the bucket. "He ate a ton of garlic for dinner and I don't want him near me."

Anna grabbed the wine glass and took a sip. She straightened her long legs that were worn over black leather pants, and propped her high-heeled boots on the edge of the contorted table. "Remind me of why you haven't had sex in a decade?"

"A witch?"

"Singleism."

Carina gave up and laughed. "Okay, you win. Why are you giving me the honor of your presence this Saturday night? You look so beautiful."

"Thanks. I was going to meet someone for a few drinks. Want to come along?"

"To his date?"

Megan frowned and drained the rest of her wine glass. "You'd make a good chat. He's upset."

"Why am I going out with him?"

"He looks fine."

Carina fell beside her friend on the chair and sighed. "I wish I could be like you, Anna. Why do I always have so much trouble?"

"Why don't I have any?" Anna's lips pursed in humorous self-deprecation, then she pointed to the bucket. "So, what does that fire mean?"

Carina sighed. "I'm doing a love spell. To, uh... get a man."

Her friend tilted her head back and smiled. "Okay. So what's that bucket for?"

Carina's cheeks turned red. She should never have done it. "I lit a fire in honor of Mother Earth," she whispered.

"Oh my god."

"Listen. I'm desperate. I still haven't met the Right Gentleman and the next little problem I need to deal with, so I combined both of my needs into one list."

"What kind of list?"

"One of my clients told me she bought this love spell book, and when she made a list of all the qualities she looks for in a man, and he showed up."

This time, Anna looked concerned. "A man comes into her life with everything she wants?"

"Yes. This list must be extremely specific. It must not be too general, or your superiors will be confused by your wishes and send nothing. She said if you recite the spell, man. correct will appear."

Anna's blue eyes lit up. "Show me the book."

Nothing makes you feel better than having another single woman also looking for a man. Carina threw down the cloth-bound pamphlet, feeling a little less silly than before.

"Hmmm. Show me your list."

She waved at the bucket. "Burn it."

"I know you have a copy under your bed. Forget it, I'll go get it myself." Her friend strutted over to the canary-yellow bed and reached under the mattress. Within seconds, she was holding the winning list between her bright red fingernails, and licking her lips as if she'd been plunged into a vibrant romance novel. Carina collapsed on the carpet. Let the humiliation begin.

"Number one," Anna read. "Being a fan of the Mets." (Name of an American baseball team)

Carina braced herself for the explosion.

"Baseball?" Anna hissed. She waved the paper and held it out into the air for a dramatic effect. "Damn it, how can you make baseball your number one priority? They didn't even get to play in the World Series this year! In fact in New York has a lot more Yankees fans than Mets fans, and that almost eliminates the male population."