I had been afraid of that. But she was right.
“Aidan’s a little . . . He might be a little upset with me at the moment.”
“Why am I not surprised?” she said dryly. “Well, then, I suggest you get on Aidan’s good side tout de suite, because we’re going to need him. Sailor is going to need him.”
“I know, and I will,” I said, though I worried about what Aidan would demand from me in return. I pushed that thought aside—one problem at a time. “For the moment, will you stick around while I finish up here, and then we’ll take a look at the box?”
Patience sighed. “Fine. But don’t dawdle. Time is money.”
Chapter 12
“Well, aren’t you the businesswoman?” I said to Patience as we returned to the shop floor.
“You’d better believe it. I’ve got a mortgage and bills to pay, just like everyone else.”
Bronwyn arrived and greeted Patience with an enthusiastic hug and lavish praise. Bronwyn had been coaching me to get over my jealousy of Sailor’s beautiful cousin and the time she spent with him. Bronwyn was an openhearted, generous person who truly believed that most people were good and loyal, and that jealousy was a reflection of a person’s insecurity, not an external reality. Bronwyn was also fascinated by Patience’s psychic abilities, and swore Patience had “read her future to a tee.” When I pointed out that there was no way to tell how accurate Patience’s predictions were since the future hadn’t happened yet, Bronwyn laughed and called me a spoilsport.
I had to admit, Patience accepted Bronwyn’s effusive greeting with good grace. A beautiful Gypsy queen accepting tribute from one of her subjects, I thought, then chided myself for being so mean-spirited.
Then, as Bronwyn stashed her things in the workroom, Patience looked around the store and raised one eyebrow.
“I see nothing’s changed. How . . . reliable.”
Patience’s expression suggested she meant “How boring.” So much for the self-chiding.
“Not at all,” I replied. “The inventory changes constantly. Only the layout is the same.”
“As long as I’m here, I suppose I should look for something to wear,” Patience said in a tone that suggested she was doing us a grand favor. “Assuming you’re really going to go through with this ridiculous farce.”
“For the Magical Match Tea, or the wedding?” asked Bronwyn, who was either ignoring or missing my gestures to keep quiet about the tea.
“The ‘Magical Match Tea’?” Patience repeated, looking up from a collection of beaded flapper dresses. “What on earth is a Magical Match Tea?”
“I doubt you’d be interested—,” I began, belatedly realizing that anything I didn’t want Patience to do, she would be bound and determined to do. Had I been smarter, I would have invited her already and made sure she knew that I would personally benefit from the attention the tea would bring to Aunt Cora’s Closet. She likely would have refused to attend just to spite me.
“It’s a fund-raiser for a very good cause,” interrupted Bronwyn, handing her the little flyer designed by Amy, aka Wind Spirit. It included an illustration: a tiered plate of cupcakes that put me in mind of Renee. “The Haight Street women’s shelter.”
Patience fixed me with an accusatory look. “Why would you think I wouldn’t want to support something like that?”
“It’s not that. . . .” I trailed off.
“It says here, ‘Wear matching outfits,’” Patience said. “Who am I supposed to match?”
“Perhaps you have a young friend,” explained Bronwyn, “and the two of you could find matching dresses here in the shop.”
“Lily and I are wearing these,” Selena said excitedly, showing off the polka-dot dresses that had sparked this whole idea. She held hers up against herself and rocked back and forth, making the full skirts swish gracefully.
It made my heart swell to see Selena smiling—something she very rarely did—and excited about the dresses. Not to mention she seemed pleased, maybe even proud, to be going as my match.
“How adorable. Tell me, does it have to be a younger friend?” Patience asked. “Or could I be the younger one?”
“All are welcome, no matter the age!” Bronwyn said gaily.
Patience smiled. “I’ll invite Renna.”
I blanched. Patience Blix and Sailor’s aunt Renna? At the Magical Match Tea? The tea that Graciela’s coven might be attending? What could possibly go wrong?
“You two will make a cute couple,” I said with an inward sigh. San Francisco was my home now, and that meant navigating the byzantine machinations of the magical community, as much as everything else.
“Lily, you should try on the wedding gown Wind Spirit brought you,” Selena urged. “Wind Spirit’s cool. She gave me a charm, see?” She held up her wrist to show me a small silver bell on her charm bracelet.
“Nice charm. But I don’t know about the dress. . . .” I hesitated. “It’s not quite right for me.”
“I think it’s adorable,” said Bronwyn. “But Wind Spirit said it would never fit her. In fact, when she came in to find a dress for the tea a couple of weeks ago, I helped her try on a few. I always thought she was chubby, but it turns out she’s extremely muscular!”
“Selena and I were just talking about different body types,” I said, hoping they’d drop the subject of the wedding dress. It was making me jumpy.
“Lily said I’m fat,” said Selena.
Bronwyn gaped at me.
“I said no such thing!” I started to defend myself, then saw a ghost of a smile on Selena’s face.
“Does Wind Spirit lift weights?” asked Maya. “My cousin got buff quickly when she started training.”
“No, she told me her father was a martial arts instructor; apparently she practically grew up in the studio and achieved expert status when she was just a teenager,” Bronwyn said. “Anyway, whether it’s plumpness or sheer muscles, I fear it’s hard to find true vintage to fit her. I sent her next door to Lucille’s.”
“Mom will fix her up,” said Maya with a nod. Maya didn’t always see eye to eye with her mother, but she was
