“And check in with texts once we’re both on the wifi.”
“Check in with texts.”
“I’ll take good care of her,” Maggie said. She smiled at Sam, with a soft look in her eyes. “I promise.”
MAGGIE
As soon asMaggie closed the door and they were alone, Sam’s daughter said, “Why were you looking at my dad like that?”
“Like what?” Maggie countered.
“Like any of the all of that,” Charlie said, scowling.
Maggie regarded her. She had little experience with children, and next to none with teenagers, who were somewhere between adults and children in a way she didn’t quite understand. Charlie was a tall, slightly skinny and gawky young person, with braided brown hair, wearing flowered tights beneath a stylish pink and silver coat. Maggie couldn’t tell what kind of person she was—an awkward geek, an outgoing cheerleader, a lean runner? She just couldn’t tell at all.
But one thing she did have experience with was management, specifically cat-herding a theater troupe. So she took charge.
“Well, I’m going to put my hair up properly and change into pajamas,” she said. “You can put your things away. I think one way or another, you and your dad probably will have this room tomorrow, so I can move anything if you need the space.”
“You didn’t answer my question,” Charlie said.
“About me and your dad? Charlie—it’s Charlie, right?”
“Charlotte,” Charlie said. “Only my friends call me Charlie.”
“Okay, Charlotte. I just met your dad. I don’t know anything about him, except for his name.”
“Well, he knows you,” Charlie said. “I know you, too. You’re that jewel thief that Dad and Uncle Fawkes have been talking about for the last year.”
Maggie had to control the gut punch of Charlie’s words. The girl hadn’t been shy that she knew who Maggie really was, which made her wonder how many people knew. “Did your dad talk to you about it?”
“Not really to me, but like. I have ears,” Charlie said. She put a protective hand on her backpack. “So you better not touch any of my things. Especially this. It was my mom’s.”
She pulled some kind of pendant out of her sweater and held it up. Maggie by now had enough practice at ruthlessly smashing down her magpie’s covetous urges that all she got was a faint inner squawk. She jerked her eyes away before she could see exactly what it was. As long as she didn’t shift, it didn’t matter; she had full control in human form, and if not letting her magpie mess up her life again meant never shifting, then she would just do it.
“I’m not going to take your things, Charli—Charlotte. I promise. Do you need to use the bathroom before I get in there?”
“No,” Charlie said.
Maggie grabbed her night things and retreated to the bathroom. With the door shut, she felt a little more in control.
Everything had been going as well as it could. Now Sam and his daughter seemed to have thrown the entire situation out of kilter. She didn’t know what she was going to do. Under Sam’s piercing blue gaze, she had never had less confidence in herself not to give in to her magpie’s urges—or more desire not to.
Taking a deep breath, she undid her bun and began combing out her hair.
From the main room of the suite, she heard occasional clattering, and at one point the outer door opened and there were voices. Maggie got changed, got her hair put up, and put the silk bonnet over it that she liked to wear at night to keep it from completely frizzing out by morning. Then, aware that she could not stay in the bathroom forever and also that there were pleasant food smells coming from the main room of the suite, she slung the kimono over her pajamas and opened the door.
“Hey,” Charlie said.
She had changed too, and was wearing a fluffy pair of pink and white pajamas with strawberries on them. This went surprisingly well with the decor of the suite. Charlie had climbed into bed with the coverlet spread over her legs and the pillows piled to one side. There was a cot set up next to it, with a few pillows on that, too. Charlie had a plate on a tray in her lap.
“What did they bring you?” Maggie asked. She’d eaten in the kitchen, but that smelled good.
“Burger,” Charlie said indistinctly through a mouthful. “And—” She swallowed. “I guess chocolates come with the room? And they brought some? You better not eat all of them, but ... I guess you can have some if you want. They’re here.”
These were not mere dollar-store chocolates; they were chocolate-dipped strawberries, luscious truffles, and bonbons rolled in coconut and chocolate shavings. Maggie took one of the truffles. It melted in her mouth.
“Thank you,” she said. “For being okay with this. I know it’s a mess.”
