I might not be the sharpest knitting needle in the shop, but I wasn’t a naïve sixteen-year-old anymore either. “What kind of party?”
“Just a few friends.” I couldn’t imagine what she wanted me for.
I was about to refuse as politely as I could when William Thresher walked into the shop. William was Rafe Crosyer’s butler, his estate manager, I suppose you’d call him. William’s passion was cooking. Since Rafe, being a vampire, obviously didn’t put much strain on William’s culinary talents, William had started catering events. Word had quickly spread, and he was so popular that he’d become very choosy. He particularly liked weddings.
It was a bit sad, because William was in his thirties and, according to his destiny, the first son he sired would be groomed and trained to serve Rafe when he came of age and William got old enough to retire. This pattern had remained unbroken since the first William Thresher served Rafe back in the 1500s. But how many appropriate women did William meet living in a grand estate run by a vampire? The answer was very, very few. To meet a woman with a strong pulse, he really needed to get out more. I’d been quite hopeful that the catering would encourage him to find someone nice. I wasn’t entirely sure how I felt about him fathering Rafe’s next servant, but it wasn’t my business. Nobody had forced William into the job, and nobody could promise that the next William Thresher, assuming there was a next William Thresher, would grow up and want to serve Rafe.
Maybe he’d want to be a firefighter, a cop or a race-car driver. In my meaner moments, I hoped the next William Thresher chose any profession but butler to Rafe Crosyer, who had altogether too many advantages as it was.
Far be it from me to interfere with destiny, though. Especially since I’d discovered that I was a witch and part of a long tradition of witches here in Oxford. If I knew anything about destiny, it was that you can’t escape yours.
Pamela brightened immediately when she saw William. When I looked at him dispassionately, I could see that William was a nice-looking man. Usually when I saw him, he was with Rafe, and it was like trying to admire the moon when it was beside the sun. But on its own, the moon was very handsome. He clearly noticed Pamela and gave her a shy nod.
“Lucy,” he said, “I wanted to talk to you about something. But I can come back later.”
“That’s all right. I’ve got some time.” I turned to Pamela with what I hoped was an “it’s time for you to leave now” expression on my face. “Thanks for dropping by.”
She ignored me and stared at the new arrival. “Aren’t you William Thresher?”
I don’t know who was more surprised, William or me, that she knew who he was. He wasn’t a movie star or a rock star or a media personality. He looked quite startled. Glanced at me as though I might know how she knew him, but I shrugged my shoulders. Finally, he answered, “Yes. I am.”
“I thought it was you.” She turned on the charm. And when Pamela turned on the charm, it was quite something. Even I, who distrusted and frankly loathed her, felt the warmth in her smile. “You’re surprised I even know who you are. But you’re a wizard in the kitchen. I was hoping you might cater a small party I’m having. I was just asking Lucy here to come by. We’re old friends, you know, from America.”
“I caught the accent, yes.” He looked so pleased for me. “Lucy, how nice for you to have a friend from home. I know you get homesick sometimes.”
So not homesick for Pamela.
“Well, I don’t do very many private parties. It would depend on the date and the kind of party it is. But, since you’re Lucy’s friend—”
And boom. There it was. The reason Pamela had sought me out. She must have discovered that William was the best caterer in Oxford and, somehow, that I knew him.
She laughed and made a sort of fluttering motion with her hands. “In truth, the party’s for my professor. I’m an art history student, you know. He’s having a book published by Oxford University Press. And I wanted to organize a little shindig. Of course, I’m only going to be a waitress there myself. I was hoping that Lucy might help me out and be another server.”
Ha. I’d known there was some backstabbing trick embedded in her quote, unquote invitation.
“Really?” William looked delighted. “Have you got much waitressing experience?”
What? How was this conversation getting so skewed? The only kind of serving Pamela knew how to do was to serve her own interests. I suddenly knew why William was here, and I did not want Pamela having any part of it.
“I’m sure Pamela’s not interested in being a waitress,” I said. Then turned to her. “Listen, Pam, I’ll call you.” I didn’t know how much more obvious I could be that I wanted to get rid of the woman, but she remained oblivious to my broad hints.
She pretty much talked over my shoulder to William as though I wasn’t even there. “I’ve done a lot of waitressing.” (Not true.) “I had to save up the money to be able to afford Oxford.” (So not true.) “But if you want something badly enough, it’s worth waiting for.” She laughed again, that pretty, silvery laugh. “You probably won’t believe it, but I’m as old as Lucy.”
Oh, and thanks for that.
William not only missed the jab at me, he looked delighted. “This is brilliant. I came here to ask Lucy if she could help me out by being a server at a private catered function. I could use another experienced server, if you’re interested. It’s all very secret, and you’d have to sign a nondisclosure agreement.”
I felt a vague alarm. Somehow, without any provocation
