I sashayed through the crowds, giving anyone who looked my way a welcoming smile. Most didn’t catch my attempt to connect, but one did. He was Hollywood hot, with shaggy, honey-blond hair, high cheekbones, emerald-green eyes, and a golden tan. As soon as we locked eyes, he winked. A shiver ran up my spine, and I diverted my attention to where Mom and Dad sat, a couple tables over.
My parents would have stuck out even if their table hadn’t been in such a prominent position in the room. Whereas every other family seemed jubilant, including Mr. Winky’s, Mom and Dad did not. The allure of arriving at their alma matter seemed to have worn off, and just like when we departed LAX, a palpable tension rolled off them in waves.
“Hey.” I joined them. “How was your day? Did you have a good time going down memory lane?” I hoped that by reminding my parents they’d had fun here, it would reduce their anxiety concerning me.
“It was . . . better than it could have been, pea,” Dad spoke up, his tone diplomatic and hazel eyes careful.
What kind of answer is that?I opened my mouth to ask what he meant, but at that exact moment, a server appeared.
“Good evening, Dane clan. Might I offer you still or sparkling water?”
We requested still water, and the waiter filled our glasses before launching into the menu for the evening. The server disappeared once we’d ordered, and right away, someone else swooped in.
Mr. Winky.
“I heard the famed Mrs. Lauren Dane and Mr. Joseph Dane were at this table?”
He held out his hand to Mom, who took it to shake. But the young man pulled a fast one and brought her hand to his lips instead. Mom blushed, and I worked not to gape. This guy was a charmer.
“That’s right,” Dad said, looking amused. “And what’s your name?”
“Hunter Wardwell, sir. It’s a pleasure to meet such legends of espionage. I’ve studied your public cases.” Mr. Winky—Hunter—shook Dad’s hand. “And this stunning woman must be your daughter?”
Dad’s chest puffed up, signifying a pride that he reserved only for me and particularly well-done films that he’d produced. I pressed my lips together tight, trying not to laugh. Not only was Hunter too handsome for his own good, he knewexactlyhow to work my parents.
I extended my hand, which he had the good sense to shake and not kiss. “Odette Dane. Nice to meet you, Hunter. I think you met my suitemate, Evanora Proctor?”
“Yes. She’s a charmer. I believe we’re on the same floor.”
“All three of us,” I agreed, considered it rather rich that Hunter was calling Eva a charmer.
Mom jumped into the conversation. “Wardwell. I’ve heard that name, but I don’t believe I know your parents, unless you have a slightly older brother. However, I am familiar with John and Alice Wardwell. Their son is Alexander, I think.” She pointed to the table at the back of the room. “Is there any relation?”
The grin slipped off Hunter’s face, and I remembered Eva’s mention of a family feud. “Yes . . . they’re relations of mine. An aunt and uncle—although we’re not close.”
“That’s a shame, but we can relate. We have little family. Odette is the last of our line.” Mom’s eyes shifted to me. “It’s part of the reason I’m so reluctant to let her move all the way across the country.”
Hunter’s face lit up again. “My parents had their doubts too. Perhaps after orientation, I can finagle an introduction, and you four can commiserate?”
Mom gave him a watery smile. “Being in contact with other Spellcasters parents is a good idea. I’d like that.”
The tinkling of a bell rang through the chatter of families, and a slow hush descended in the room. Hunter excused himself, and I turned my attention to the stage, where Headmistress Wake stood, backed by an entourage of men and women.
“Thank you all for being here tonight,” the headmistress began. “The professors and I are pleased to welcome our newest class of future spies.” Headmistress Wake pulled her lips up in what I guessed was her approximation of a genuine smile, but looked more like grimacing. “This is a friendly reminder that after orientation, parents are no longer permitted on the grounds of Spellcasters. Once the term commences, visitations are limited to the Yule holiday and a one-month break after internships end next summer. Cell phones will be confiscated. It sounds draconian, but as our parents know, spies must often sever all ties. We consider this isolation yet another aspect of your training. Therefore, I urge you to soak up your family time now.”
The headmistress shot a glance at the corner of the room, where servers held trays laden with sumptuous smelling food. “The rest shall wait for after dinner.” She clapped her hands, and the servers rushed forth.
A plate of chicken, roasted to perfection, with honeyed carrots and rosemary mashed potatoes, Mom’s favorite comfort foods, landed before her. Dad had opted for steak tacos, whereas I’d chosen seared ahi tuna on a bed of jicama and greens. Since I’d skipped lunch, I quickly became engrossed in my meal, which was spectacular.
“So, Hunter is handsome,” Mom said, after I’d inhaled over half my meal.
My face heated, and I stuffed a few more bites into my mouth. I’d had a few boyfriends before, but I rarely divulged relationship information to anyone. My circle of high school girlfriends had only heard the most superficial tidbits, and my parents knew the guy’s name and phone number, but that was it. While I was open with them about everything else in life, talking about guys made me super uncomfortable.
“Yeah,” I choked out, my eyes fixed on my plate.
“And he’s not the only one,” Mom released a heavy sigh. “I knew once you saw this place, you’d fall in love, but I suppose with men like Hunter around, there's no hope at changing your mind about going home?”
I sucked in a breath and prepared to start the same old fight, but when I looked up, I found that I couldn’t. Mom just looked too sad.
