Authors: Christina Bell
The girls stood for a moment, studying their reflections. Grace had been right about the leaves in her hair and reached up to extract a couple. Chloe twirled her diamond stud earring between the same thumb and finger she had used to touch Grace’s shirt.
“I don’t understand this,” Chloe mused. “I’m clearly fabulous, but he told me all about how beautiful you are. Are you a witch? Did you cast some spell on him?”
Grace was stunned. “Chloe, despite some personality limitations, you are the most gorgeous girl I’ve ever seen.”
“Yet, he seems to prefer you.”
“I didn’t ask for that.”
“Maybe, maybe not,” Chloe began to walk a narrow circle around Grace. She seemed to be studying every nuance of the newcomer’s appearance “You say you don’t care, yet here you are. Why didn’t you just go inside when Cam told you to?” Chloe stopped in front of Grace and looked directly into her face.
“I was curious. It’s been a weird day.”
“Yes, everyone is curious about us. You don’t even
exist
in the same world as Cam and me. Maybe you thought Cam would be your guide? Maybe you were thinking he could protect you from those of us who will decide your fate in this neighborhood.”
“Not at all,” Grace lied. She had, indeed, thought that less than ten minutes ago, almost in those exact words. Grace had already predicted that it would be the Chloes of the world who would decide exactly how miserable the next year of her life would be. School hadn’t even started and she was already on Chloe’s radar.
Chloe continued as if Grace hadn’t spoken. “Whatever he shows you, however he helps you, you’ll never belong here. He’ll get tired of you and he’ll come back to me because we understand this life. We were born into it.”
Grace made an effort to pull herself up to her full height. Even on her tiptoes, she was a full head shorter than Chloe. “First of all, you are welcome to Cam and this whole bizarre, cloistered world. I just spent dinner being told that I need to forget about my boyfriend, and now I have you telling me I don’t belong here.” She could feel her face flushing as she grew angry. “Listen, I was fine where I was. I didn’t want to move here. Whatever deranged idea you have that I want to be part of this, that I’m hoping to fit in, is so far off base, I can’t even explain it in a way that’s simple enough for you to understand. My life was perfect and now I suddenly have strangers telling me what I want and what to do. All I want is what I had.” She realized that she hadn’t even stopped for a breath. Her rage had taken over, and when she took a moment to reflect, standing there on the street with a girl who despised her for no reason, all she could think was that this wasn’t healthy. “I’m going to Brooklyn. My boyfriend’s parents will let me stay until I figure this out.”
“How fitting,” Chloe smirked. “You have a boyfriend in Brooklyn. Good. Go to him. That sounds like a better choice than stealing my boyfriend.”
Grace exhaled and shook her head slowly, wishing someone besides her could hear this conversation. No one would ever believe her if she tried to describe the absolute self-absorption of this girl. Even with money and beauty, Chloe seemed surprisingly unhappy, as if her entire world revolved around envy and bitterness. “Okay, then,” was all she could muster. “It was very interesting meeting you. Enjoy your privileged life. I am going back to people who make sense, before I become as oddly delusional as you are.”
She turned and walked past Julius, who held the door wide for her with one hand and tipped his funny hat a little with the other. She gave him only a faint smile of gratitude, longing for the seclusion of the elevator. Even a minute alone would be enough to try to calm down before she got upstairs. She pushed the elevator button and watched the lighted numbers above the doors indicate the lift’s approach until the doors finally parted.
Alone in the gilded, wood-paneled elevator, she leaned against the wall and raked her hair off her face with her hands and let them linger on her head. Why was it that strangers seemed to feel personally invested in her choices today? A few weeks ago, she could have jumped off the Brooklyn Bridge and about three people in the world would have noticed. Now she was in the center of a world she hated. If only Chloe was right. If only they would tire of her and leave her alone.
Theo was still awake when she walked into the apartment. The apartment showed no signs that there had been a formal dinner.
“Are you all right?” Theo asked, looking at her with concern that reminded her of the days before Gianni. There were several years between the death of her mother and the appearance of her soon-to-be stepmother when it was just the two of them. They had developed a quiet rhythm, a complete understanding of how the other operated. In those days, despite the fact that Grace was only twelve when her mother died, Theo had given her the trust one might give a much older child. Due to Theo’s long work hours, she came and went without being questioned, but never abused the privilege. It was up to her to get to school and do her homework. When she got a little older, she wrote checks from Theo’s account for the bills and made their meals on weeknights. They were a team. When Grace turned fifteen and started dating Ryder, she wasn’t around as much. Theo tried not to show how much he missed her, but she could see it in his eyes when she came home late, not having seen him all day. He looked distraught, lonely, and fatigued, much like he did this night, greeting Grace as she came in late. That was about the time he found Gianni. Was it possible that Grace had traded her father for her boyfriend? If Grace hadn’t stopped being around so much, would Theo have ended up with Gianni? It was entirely possible that Theo fell for her out of loneliness.
“I’m fine, Theo,” Grace lied for the second time in one night. “I’m just a little overwhelmed.”
“I know, Grace. I also know that you’ve been making your own rules ever since your mother died. You’ve handled more responsibility than a lot of girls your age and you’ve made good choices,” he said. “It can’t be easy to have someone suddenly telling you what to do.”
“It would be easier if you were the one trying to give me advice. Theo, you haven’t told me what to do in years, but you’re willing to let your new boss plan my life?”
Theo walked toward the bar and poured himself a glass of water. “He’s done a lot for us, and he knows the subtleties of making this change successful.”
“Why do you need all of this, Theo?”
“You’re leaving, Grace. You’re going to college and then grad school, and I’m going to pay for it with all of this. You won’t have to take out loans or work during the summer. You can travel during your vacations, see more than I’ve been able to show you, working out of my little Brooklyn office.”
“I understand what the money can do for us, but we would survive without it. There has to be more to it.”
“I need to keep what I have.”
“You’re talking about Gianni, aren’t you?”
“She’s happy here.”
“Are you?”
“Grace, I love her. Don’t make it hard for me to hold on to her. I’ve already lost enough.”
Grace wanted to yell. She wanted to shout to the rooftops that his girlfriend was a gold-digging whore, but she held it in, for once in her life. Instead, she walked to her father and gave him a tight hug, the way she used to when she was little. When she pulled back, she held onto one of his hands.
“I’m going to spend a couple of nights at Ryder’s house. His folks have an extra room and they won’t mind if I crash there. I need some perspective, and you need some time to plan your wedding without me insulting your bride every five minutes.”
There was no reason for Theo to object. He had known Ryder and his parents for years. They were practically family, which would have been awkward if Grace and Ryder weren’t such good kids. Ryder stayed in the guest bedroom of their Brooklyn apartment on a couple of occasions, and Grace was smart enough to stay in her own bed when adults were in the house.
“Are you sure?” he asked. “I was really hoping you could spend some time with Gia, maybe give her another chance. If you tried to understand her just a little, you might learn to like her.”
“You too, with the Gia business? I don’t care what kind of pearls you put on that sow, she’ll always be a Jersey girl to me.” Grace turned to leave. “So, yeah, I’m sure. Gianni and I aren’t going to magically bond before the wedding. And if you want me to make it through the ceremony without objecting publicly, I should probably take a few days to chill.”
Theo smiled at this, as Grace knew he would. Despite everything they had been through lately, he still knew her better than anyone. She was stubborn and judgmental, but in a quiet way. She had no desire to explore her feelings. She spoke her mind and then she was done with it. This evening, in the park with Cam, was the first time she could remember doubting herself, maybe ever, but she wasn’t about to discuss that with anyone.
Before she walked out of the apartment, she turned back to her father and smiled. “I love you, Dad,” she said quietly, and with absolute sincerity. “I’ll see you at the wedding.”
Theo smiled and waved good-bye to his daughter. “I love you, too, Gracie.”
And with that, Grace grabbed her overpriced purse and left.
After the debacle of a dinner, Puck Oberon was more than ready for a real drink. After Miles disappeared into his office, Puck went straight to the largest of the three living spaces in the penthouse. This was the most casual, with chocolate brown velvet furniture and heavy drapes that were currently pulled back to reveal a meticulously groomed rooftop garden, lit by electric lanterns that were fashioned after antique streetlamps. Because this room was the most comfortable space in the penthouse, the boys had long ago claimed it. As long as they didn’t make too much of a ruckus, the other members of the household generally left them alone.
Since Puck and Cam’s mother died fourteen years ago, they had essentially been raised by servants who were paid to stay out of their business. One of Miles’ wives made a half-hearted attempt to parent the boys, but Miles quickly put a stop to that. In the Oberon household, there was only one person who was allowed to parent Puck and Cam. Miles made no secret of his right to absolute authority over the boys. Now that Miles had a new son, India, with his current wife, Titania, he showed a desire to maintain control over that child as well. As far as Puck could tell, this was most of the reason that Miles was divorcing her.
Puck located a bottle of Lagavulin single malt scotch on a back tier of the bar and focused his attention on it, picturing it landing in his waiting hand. The bottle slowly began to tremble and then stopped. A moment later, it smoothly lifted itself straight up and out of the row of liquor bottles and soared to Puck. As Puck amused himself by mentally causing the cork to wiggle itself out of the neck of the bottle, he could hear the phone in his pocket ringing. Specifically, it was the twittering tone that Puck had assigned to Nick Bottom. It seemed to fit Nick, whose frequent monologues had little substance and, in Puck’s mind, always faded to white noise after a few minutes, in the same way that one might tune out the constant chirping of a pet bird.
On his father’s request, Puck had arranged to meet his usual gang of compatriots about twenty minutes ago, but he wasn’t worried about making them wait. They would wait as long as they had to if it meant maintaining a friendship with Miles Oberon’s son.
Miles had a specific task that he was hoping the boys would undertake. On this, of all nights, Puck was eager to comply with any wish his father might have. The fact that his brother had recently come into favor with their father, based on the paltry ability to be charming with girls, infuriated Puck. He had always assumed that his place as his father’s favorite was secured by his inheritance of the family’s magical abilities. This gift had bypassed Cam. As a result, Cam was usually left to his own devices. Puck was the one who spent hours in seclusion with Miles, being carefully trained in the ways of magic. If his father needed someone to deal with Grace, why would he choose Cam, who didn’t possess even a speck of magical ability? Puck could have wrapped up the entire situation by the end of the evening. Cam was good-looking, but he was kind of a pansy. Puck could easily imagine his little brother becoming friends with Grace and giving her a shoulder to cry on, instead of seducing her like he was supposed to.
For hundreds of years, the Oberon family had passed the gift of magic from one generation to the next. While the specific powers of each successive inheritor varied, most of the Oberon children had at least an inkling of supernatural ability. Since toddlerhood, Puck displayed an ability to move inanimate objects simply by envisioning the end result of the movement. He could also influence the will of others, causing them to give in to impulses they might have otherwise resisted.