Mathilda, SuperWitch (Mathilda's Book of Shadows #1)(4)
Then Sebastian came running in and slid across the plank floors to stop right at the foot of my bed and looked around at the place dripping with pixie dust and two women running and jumping around shouting. He was so, well… normal with pixie dust landing in his hair and on his shoulders with this kinda angry-esque expression that I stopped and so did Mavis.
“I swear, there was a faerie just at the corner of my eye and then she stopped and I saw her clear as day. I swear it!” I said when everyone had quieted down.
Sebastian looked at me for a bit and then muttered, “For f**k’s sake,” (very lush accent even when cursing… mm) and walked out.
Auntie is pleased I had a visit from a faerie though she said to beware because some faeries aren’t great but most are so… yay!
Mavis said I’m coming along if I’m seeing faeries (though don’t know how I feel about that) then cleared the pixie dust with a flick of her wand and went back to bed.
Am very tired after pixie-dusting straight from finger (is taxing, that’s why witches use wands as direct pixie-dusting takes too much power and energy and leaves you weak).
Must go to sleep but wanted to write down in my journal that I saw my first faerie.
Yay.
(Wonder how Sebastian got here so quickly. Hmm.)
* * * * *
Later:
Have not seen faerie again and fear may have scared her with all the pixie dust and shouting. Or maybe they just come at night. Mental note: must research this or ask Auntie.
Mavis will not tell me where Sebastian lives and I do not know if this is a) because she doesn’t know either or b) because she fears me showing up on his doorstep in the middle of the night wearing lacy peignoir set a la Alexis Carrington Colby Dexter and making a fool of myself or c) because she thinks I may stalk him. Doesn’t matter, too busy to worry about yummy-yet-off-limits Sebastian right now.
Coven Meeting was not what I expected, very boring. Spent forty-five minutes discussing who should get annual scholarship (Penelope Custard (unfortunate name) studying midwifery) then Octavia Blackwell talked on and on (and on) about how her daughters don’t take The Craft seriously and all they want to do is party in Ibiza and make love potions (poorly).
No “bubble bubble, toil and trouble”.
No na**d dancing.
Nothing.
Have meeting with plumber to discuss the floor tile in bathrooms of the café. My choice was four times more expensive than regular tiles so Mavis wants compromise. Ack!
* * * * *
Later:
Went to meeting with plumber thinking of plumbers with pants hanging down in bad ways and filthy t-shirts. Walked into meeting at café having already decided to give in on tile in favor of velvet couches.
Stopped short in door as saw Mavis with man who looked like a much less scruffy but still incredibly sexy Sawyer from Lost. Dee-lish-us!
And he was the plumber.
How could he be the plumber?
He’s named Aidan.
Aidan the plumber.
Am on my guard as there are no plumbers named Aidan who look like Sawyer from Lost in whole wide world who are not bad guys in disguise.
Decided to hold my ground about tiles.
(Pleased I wore spike-heeled, pointy-toed, killer boots with jeans that show my ass to best advantage, even if possible baddie.)
* * * * *
17 November
Am tired and cranky.
Had day of reckoning today which went very well but ultimately annoying. Want to rest, forget I am SuperWitch and go to a beach, somewhere… anywhere.
First, Wesley does… not… share… my… vision! He does not understand that glamour and style are actual draws… that people will want to be somewhere just because it’s cool.
He says velvet couches and curvy, hidden booths in back may be bad when coupled with significantly caffeinated beverages and teenagers.
He fears no span of the generation gap.
He doesn’t understand essence of coffee house culture!
I told him there were places all over America filled with black-haired, scarily-made-up goths or grunged-out neo-hippies drinking copious amounts of coffee and scarfing down lemon scones beside power-brokers, soccer moms and trendy senior citizens who prove him wrong.
He says maybe so but this isn’t America.
Duh! Like I’m not (somewhat painfully) reminded of that every freakin’ day!
Nearly mentioned that it has been working pretty well for some time in France too but find that English have weird thing about France and figured this would not help my cause.
Feel that Wesley is trying to turn Mavis against me.
Stupid Wesley.
Then Mavis made me spend hours with Aidan (the plumber!) going over tile samples to try to find a happy medium.
Found out through Mavis being huge, embarrassingly obvious busybody that Aidan went to Cambridge and studied history to ultimately be professor (which explains posh accent) but quit because was getting bored of history and didn’t like academia (but apparently does like pipes and toilets, hmm).
Spending the afternoon with Posh English Sawyer from Lost looking through tiles is some kind of agony as constantly should appear witty and vivacious or subdued and mysterious and was too tired to be either so was just myself which I try never to be.
And then Auntie came up with idea of “tasting party” to “get a lock on the menu”. (Ack!)
So I spent ages preparing and baking for tasting party as whole coven and, as Mavis put it, “a few friends” (over forty people!) were coming to taste test my cooking!