Mathilda, SuperWitch (Mathilda's Book of Shadows #1)(30)

Shirtless and sweating profusely.

Mm. Mm.

Ack!

Holy Boy Crazy Bitch, Batman!

Gran, Mom, Su and Viv are “entertaining” Aidan.

Ha ha ha!

(Poor Aidan)

* * * * *

This is what happened:

Was finishing my shift and leaving the shop with Beatrice, Rhiannon and Pandora as the afternoon crew.

I’d never left the shop without Lucy, Mavis or myself in charge and I was nervous. Beatrice could hold her own but Rhiannon would have half the village stoned on some kind of herbal concoction and I think Pandora is genuinely trying to blow up Big Red.

I was fretting and Ash was on some marathon mobile phone conversation, sitting by the fireplace at the café, nursing an espresso while I sucked the last dregs out of my almond mocha latte, obsessively crossing and uncrossing my legs and trying not to jump up and stop Pandora from banging a wooden spoon on Big Red (that spoon came from Williams Sonoma and I had to sign away my first born to acquire Big Red… was she nuts?).

By the way, Ash had, all of a sudden, decided that he wanted to escort me everywhere. Mavis, Mom and Gran were adamant I let him so I had to wait for him to take me home. Ack!

Then, with no warning, Aidan walked in.

“We have to talk,” he announced upon arrival at me.

Yay! Aidan!

I wanted to jump up and do a little happy dance but had to remain cool as he didn’t even bother to say hello or give me a kiss on the cheek or anything.

So just said, “Hey,” and shot Sebastian a look mouthing, “I’ll just be over there,” pointing to a booth.

“Let’s grab a booth,” I suggested to Aidan.

Aidan took one look at Sebastian, who was still sitting by the fireplace with his legs stretched in front of him, his now empty espresso cup beside him, his mobile at his ear and a carefully blank expression on his face while he watched us.

“No, let’s go somewhere private,” Aidan said.

(Kinda ballsy, that.)

I leaned toward him and whispered, “He isn’t going to shoot you.”

Aidan didn’t look like he believed me (and I wasn’t sure I believed me either).

I put on my supercool, asymmetrical cardie, gestured out the door and mouthed, “I’ll be at the museum for just a mo’,” to Ash and walked out the door with Aidan.

We walked across the street, up the seafront, into the Victorian pier museum and up the windy stone staircase at the back to the art gallery on the second floor.

As usual, it was deserted.

As safe a place as any.

I looked out the slit window at The Witches Dozen.

Mom had put some lush and plentiful planters out front bursting with flowers and the dudes had delivered our new New Orleans-at-Disneyland, frenchie, curly, black, wrought iron patio furniture a few days ago.

It looked fab.

“Matty?”

“My shop is cool, isn’t it?”

He got up next to me and looked out the window then looked at me, his face real close and his blue eyes had this melty warm look in them.

“Yes, Matty, very ‘cool’,” he said in a low, gentle, deep, awesome voice.

Ahem.

Steady, girl.

“So how’s this going to go down if Dr. Bennett, Jeremy and The Institute find out you’re here?” I asked.

“I’m not worried,” Aidan answered without pulling away.

“Why?”

He leaned a shoulder against the wall and crossed his arms on his chest.

I didn’t realize I’d put myself in a corner with Aidan fencing me in.

Hmm.

I wasn’t worried either. I was something else all together.

“For one, my great grandfather was a Director. They tend to be more lenient with members who are grandfathered.”

Ah.

He went on, “Then, of course, Trevor Whitaker died. That made me the only Mathilda Scholar at the Institute.”

But of course!

Aidan is a Mathilda Scholar.

Makes sense.

And I’m Mathilda.

Hmm.

He kept going. “And there’s the fact that I have a 157 IQ.”

Ack!

What the…!?

Holy Genius, Batman!

Then he finished, “I may be placed on probation but they won’t lose me. Not until they train a new Mathilda Scholar.”

Whoa.

Back up.

157 IQ?

Damn!

I didn’t know how to process that.

I mean, what did that make him? Was he like Matt Damon in Good Will Hunting or Sir Charles Litton in The Pink Panther or Dr. No in Dr. No?

Or all three?

He was watching me so I filled the silence.

Be cool… be cool.

“What’s up? You got the goods on Darling?”

That’s cool.

He smiled.

“What’s funny?” I asked.

“You’re very cute when you’re trying to be The Chosen One.”

Humph.

Then, in our little huddle by the window, Aidan cut me a break on the banter and told me he didn’t give up Darling’s file to Mavis. He also told me as far as The Institute was concerned, that file had never left Darling’s “watcher” (very Giles in Buffy, in a non-participatory way of course).

Aidan wanted to see the file.