But in this case, I latched on to the growing rage pooling in my stomach and let it take charge of my voice.
“This bullshit manipulation of my emotions stops now, Lydia. Not only is it rude and disrespectful, but it’s violating as well. We won’t have that at the Magnolia. Am I clear?”
Whoa. Once the words were out, everything underneath my feet shifted. If I’d been floating before, I was surely on solid ground now.
Lydia’s face barely registered her shock, but it rode off her in waves. The smile disappeared. One lovely eyebrow lifted. And a surge of anger that matched my own knocked me back a step. It came at me like an animal poised to attack its prey. I widened my stance to brace myself.
Lauren had implied the Twins were fae. I didn’t know much about them other than what I’d read in a few of my favorite fantasy novels. But I remembered reading that they were strong. Super strong. And fast. Lydia could have crossed the room in a heartbeat and broken my neck.
But even as the thought latched onto me, the force of her anger barreling forward stopped short inches from my body. It curled there like invisible smoke. Tentatively, I extended one hand and met a wall.
So I had a barrier. Interesting.
Lydia’s lip lifted into a snarl, and the anger slinked back to its owner.
“I don’t want to fight with you Lydia.” I inched sideways and sank into one of the chairs. My butt sighed in bliss as it conformed to my body. With a gesture, I motioned to the chair beside me. “Why don’t we try talking instead?”
“Five minutes.” She tapped her delicate wrist, which incidentally did not have a watch, and crossed the room to join me with a weightless grace I envied. I tended to clomp about, my steps heavy.
Up close, she was even more beautiful. Her skin was flawless. She tucked her hair behind one ear with long, slender fingers. A cascade of gold cuffed the ear, which tapered to a sharp point at the top. Her skin was milk dipped in honey. When she moved, the crisp scent of bergamot followed.
“Are you and Lyra the creators of the beauty line I have upstairs?” She tilted her head at me, as if she didn’t understand the question. “You smell like bergamot. It reminds me of the product upstairs with that logo over there.”
She inspected me for a moment, pursing her lips together. When she answered, her voice was no longer the lilting melody from before. Instead, it was clipped and guarded.
“It was Lyra’s idea. We took it to Agatha, and she let us run a trial.” A hint of her smile returned. “It was a very successful trial.”
“I saw the YouTube page. Two million followers. I even used it to put on makeup.” When she only stared at me as if I was being analyzed, I continued. “I like it. That’s all I’m saying. I’m not trying to be your enemy.”
She thawed. It was the slightest drop of her shoulders, but the air between us softened. Not a lot. I could work with that.
“If you want us to get along, stop using your magic against others.” She leaned back, looking at me over her long nose. “And schedule a facial. Your skin is atrocious.”
I was too shocked by the former to be offended by the latter.
“I’m not using my magic against anyone,” I told her. But dammit. There it was in my voice again. A hint of a tremor that told me I was lying. Even to myself.
“Is that so?” Lydia, of course, picked up on it. “I suppose your husband just woke up with a strange virus that coincided with your cruel oaths to him? And you walked in here telling me what is allowed atthe Magnolia because you have such a strong sense of authority and not because you know I have to obey?”
Had I thought she’d softened toward me? Hah. The anger prowled around me once more. Lydia rose to her feet and paced the small space of the waiting room.
“And the trick you played on poor Doug Holloway yesterday?” She uttered a scoff. “Really, Simone, I didn’t expect you to stoop so low. Especially on your first day.”
“I what? What did I do?” My mind was a jumbled mess, trying to reconcile what she was saying about my session with Doug. “I didn’t play any tricks, Lydia. I was using a therapy tool that is useful when…”
My words trailed off at her self-righteous glare. She planted her hands on her hips. It was the most expressive I’d ever seen her.
“You aren’t fooling me, Simone. And you certainly didn’t fool Doug.” Then she laughed, and it was nothing short of a witch’s cackle. “Once word got around that you tried to manipulate his emotions, to use your expression, you were sunk.”
She peeked behind the curtain, offering me a glimpse of what appeared to be an endless hallway with rows of doors on each side. A light above a door at least a mile away flickered green.
“My client is ready. Unlike you, I take care of their needs rather than my own.”
I had no response. I was too dumbfounded to defend myself. She slid behind the curtain without saying goodbye. But her follow-up words bounced through the room and filled my head.
“Stop trying so hard to make an impact. You’re only losing our respect more.” Her laughter echoed in my ears. “Then again, maybe don’t stop. In thirty days, you’ll be out of here, and we can all move on. Whether we want to or not.”
I sat in the waiting room with my mouth gaping open. Whether they want to or not? What did that even mean?
