‘Sadly, there’s no room in the spotlight for the both of us.’
‘You could paint me. I’d look good above the fireplace,’ mused Finn.
‘Maybe stuffed like a bear.’ Noah tapped his upper lip thoughtfully.
‘Uh huh.’ Finn flopped down on the enormous couch, kicking his legs over the side. ‘So, Molly, did you bring us any of those caramels? Because I’ve been hanging out for a bite of a fancy caramel. Just dreaming of it.’
Rosie put her hands on her hips. ‘You do realize I’ve been baking for weeks?’
‘Yeah, but travel caramels are in a league of their own. They’re … wise. Worldly.’
Rosie’s mouth quirked, amused. ‘Worldly caramels, hmm?’
Finn nodded as though his words made perfect sense.
‘They’re in my duffel.’ I pushed myself off the kitchen counter I’d been leaning against. ‘Let me go grab them. And the questionable alcohol that accompanies them.’
‘Ooh, you brought some of your boss’s wife’s booze again, didn’t you?’ said Finn.
‘I’m honestly not sure if that stuff is meant to be a gift or a curse,’ added Noah.
‘I can’t promise we’ll survive the night,’ I said with a wry grin. ‘But our bodies will probably be well preserved.’
I went back to my room to grab the caramels and bottle of spirit. But as I unzipped my duffel, my heart sank. The seal on the bottle had come loose, and the distilled whatever-it-was had spilled all through my bag, soaking everything I’d brought. The caramels. My running shoes. My clothes – including the outfit I’d planned to wear tonight. Only my makeup case, which had a protective plastic lining, had been spared.
My magic flashed as I frantically yanked out my clothes and the small gifts I’d brought, trying to dry them before they were ruined. But I was only making things worse: dye ran and stitching singed. And the caramels … well, the less said about them the better.
‘Everything all right, Molly?’ Rosie had come running, spurred by the yelp I’d let out at the state of my bag. But I didn’t have to explain what had happened: the damage was obvious.
‘Oh, hon, I’m sorry. Here, let me see what I can do …’ Streams of magic poured from her fingers, rescuing some of my outfits and drying off the book I’d brought. After a few minutes, she shot me an apologetic look. ‘We might need to take these to A Stitch in Time to get them properly cleaned up. Although I’m pretty sure Finn will still accept the caramels. He’s not fussy when it comes to matters of the stomach.’
‘It’s fine,’ I said, perching on the side of the bed. ‘I’ll borrow something of Tiff’s until I get a chance to stop by Alberta’s.’
Alberta ran For Old Times’ Sake, a charming boutique with a vintage selection to rival anything I could find in the city.
‘It’ll have to be tomorrow, love.’ Rosie wiped a spot of dust off the bedroom desk. ‘She’s closed up early ahead of the Summerween Festival preparations.’
I bit my lip as I stared down at my ruined outfit, which between the spill and my hasty magic was rumpled and stained. ‘But I won’t have anything to wear for tonight.’
Rosie’s curls swung as she cocked her head at me. ‘Now, now. I can’t have my Molly talking like that. Lucky for you, I’ve been cataloguing my closet, and I have just the thing. Come on.’
Chapter 3
DRINK IN THE WILD AIR
Rosie hadn’t been exaggerating about having the perfect outfit for me.
Holding the brim of my witch’s hat, which was decorated with rows of fresh daisy chains, I twirled in front of the mirror in Rosie’s bedroom. Cleo, always a critic, pawed at the chiffon that peeked out from the bottom of my vintage floral dress.
‘You’re a vision,’ breathed Rosie. ‘I knew it would be perfect.’
White with a pattern of summer flowers, the dress shimmered at my hips, cutting just above the ankle. The neckline was more daring than anything I’d ever managed outside of a bikini. A slim halter-style string with pearl highlights was all that saved me from a potential wardrobe malfunction.
‘What’s all this giggling?’ Mom asked from the bedroom door. She was mid-email, as usual, but she had at least half of her attention on me, which was a win.
I spun on the spot for her, and her eyes widened.
‘Well, you scrub up well,’ she said, her tone tinged with something that sounded genuinely admiring. ‘That’s a beautiful dress. And the daisies are a nice touch. Wait, are those from our college ball, Rosie?’
