As if oblivious to the insult, Dru turns to me and gestures. “Well, darling, you can go sit with the other familiars now. We’ve got some big-girl things to discuss.” She makes a shooing motion. “Go have fun. Tell them that your tab is on me. Drink yourself silly if you feel like it.”
The only thing I feel like drinking is a gallon of antacid. I glance around, looking for the “other familiars,” as if I’m supposed to recognize them by sight. The restaurant is half-full, most of the tables with well-dressed couples of varying ages. As I scan the room, a man lifts one finger in the air, and the sleeve of his suit falls back to reveal a thick silver cuff identical to the one I’m wearing.
A familiar cuff. Right. I keep forgetting to take mine off. I touch it briefly, then look to Dru, but she’s being seated by a hovering waiter and doesn’t seem to care what I do. All right, then. I head over to the other table, a bright smile on my face. “Hi there! My name is Reggie, and I’m Dru’s new assistant.” I stick my hand out, remembering Penny’s joyous enthusiasm at my employment. “It’s lovely to meet you.”
The man just looks me up and down. He’s fairly nondescript, with a flat, sour mouth and really nice clothes. The woman seated across from him is gorgeous, wearing a tight wrap dress with a designer logo printed all over it. Her hair has been slicked down into a high bun like mine, but she’s got big, expensive-looking earrings hanging from her lobes and a flower tucked behind one ear. She gives me a dismissive look and goes back to her phone.
I pull my hand back, painfully aware that my brown loafers don’t match my dress. I sit down at the empty chair. “I’m new.”
“Oh, we know.” The man gives me a petty smile. “Everyone’s heard about Dru’s new mongrel familiar.”
It takes everything I have not to flinch. “What makes me a mongrel?” I ask politely, putting my napkin in my lap. I don’t want him to see how his words hurt me. “I’m her assistant.”
“You’re not with the Society of Familiars.” The beautiful woman sneers. She doesn’t look up from her phone, just keeps typing. “All of the esteemed familiars are. People wait decades for a chance to serve.”
Penny sure was a lot nicer about it. “I see. And how long have you two worked for your employers?”
They exchange a look. “Employers?” The man titters, as if I’ve said something hilarious. “That’s cute.” A waiter arrives and pours iced tea into an empty stemmed glass in front of me, then sets down a tray of cookies and sandwich triangles. My stomach growls, but I’m afraid to reach for anything in front of these two asses. “We’ve been working for our employers,” the man continues, “ever since the war.”
“Afghanistan?” I ask.
They smirk again. “The Great War,” the man says loftily.
As in . . . World War One? Two? I pick up my drink and sip it, even though it splatters condensation all over my dress. They don’t look old. Is this more of the “let’s play pretend” stuff, or are they really that old? I don’t have the heart to ask, because they’re so unpleasant. I miss Penny.
Shit, I almost miss Ben. If this is how everyone in their little society acts, no wonder he doesn’t want anything to do with anyone.
“One, James. I believe they call it One now,” the woman says in a sultry voice. She types away, her long fingernails dark red and dancing over her phone. “She probably hasn’t had a single bit of training.”
“No, she hasn’t,” I interrupt brightly. “I thought that was the point? To be a familiar with an eye on learning?”
“Indeed,” the one called James says.
“Well, you must be really slow learners, then.” I keep my voice achingly sweet.
They both look at me with narrowed eyes.
I touch the cuff on my wrist and glance over at Dru. She’s chatting happily to the two sour-faced old women seated with her, so I suspect this lunch is going to go on for a while. Fine, then. I reach over, grab a handful of cookies, and pull out my phone. Ignoring the two of them, I shove one cookie into my mouth and text with my thumb, deciding to reach out to Penny.
REGGIE: Hi there, it’s Reggie from the store the other day. Dru is at lunch with two other ladies and I’m having to sit with some guy named James and a lady with talons for fingernails. Do you know them?
PENNY: OMG HI!!!!
PENNY: IT’S SO GOOD TO HEAR FROM YOU!
PENNY: Also that is probably James and Edwina, and they’re both assholes. Their witches tend to go everywhere together.
PENNY: I’m sorry you have to sit with them! Are they giving you a hard time?
REGGIE: It’s all good. They’re just being their charming selves, I think. One of them mentioned WWI though. How old are they? Because they look like they’re in their 30s.
PENNY: That’s magic for ya. I don’t know how old exactly, but I do know they’ve been familiars since before I was born. Why?
REGGIE: Just curious.
REGGIE: We still on for coffee later this week?
PENNY: OMG YES!!
PENNY: I would love to meet up!!! Do you know the little coffee shop around the corner? They have the best lattes!
Penny’s enthusiasm makes me feel a little better. I guess for every James and Edwina, there’s a Penny or two out there. I just have to look for them.
I glance over at Dru, but she’s got her head together with the other women at the table. As if they can feel me looking, all three turn and stare in my direction. Well, that’s creepy. I give them a benign smile, shove another cookie into my mouth, and turn back to my phone screen. James and Edwina have gone silent, so there’s that, at least.
I flick around on my phone while I think of something to text back to Penny, and for some reason, Ben’s number stares out at me from my contact list. I added him in case it would be necessary for my job, but seeing him there sandwiched in the middle of my short friends list feels odd. I think about the conversation earlier, and how I fiercely declared to Dru that I loathed Ben, and how he’d overheard it. I feel . . . guilty. I’m not the kind of person that likes to make enemies, present company excluded. I’m going to have to get along with Ben, especially if he’s Dru’s beloved nephew and he’s part of her day-to-day life.
I wonder if I should apologize. I don’t need more enemies. If anything, I need Ben to be on my side. Sometimes I wonder . . .
“You swine-loving whore!” Dru’s voice rises above the soft background noise of the restaurant.
Everything goes quiet. The cookie in my mouth turns to dust, dry enough to make me cough.
“Here we go,” James mutters, then sighs heavily.
I shove my phone into my purse, jumping to my feet as Dru stands up and points a finger at Livia, who looks bored and unamused. “You, Livia, are a terrible person and an even worse witch.”
“You take that back,” Livia says in a singsong voice.
“No!” thunders Dru. She picks up one of the finger sandwiches and flings it. It smacks Livia in the face, and the other woman gets to her feet. A dangerous tension fills the air, and I could swear I hear the crackle of thunder.
Livia looks as if she wants to rip Dru’s carefully piled curls off her head. “How dare you?”
“How dare you!” Dru picks up another sandwich.
I lurch forward. Oh boy. “Dru, Dru,” I call out. “Let’s calm down now.” I reach her side and pluck the sandwich out of her trembling hand. “They’re very tasty sandwiches not meant for launching at people’s faces.”
“I was trying to hit her mole,” Dru bellows loud enough for the entire dining room to hear. “I don’t know how I missed, seeing as it covers half her face.”
Livia gasps and I wince. “Now that’s a low blow. Of course, I should expect such things from House Magnus. You’ve always been low-account trash, though, haven’t you?” She gives Dru an arch smirk. “You can take the girl out of the slums, but you can’t take the slum out of the girl.”
To my shock, Dru snarls and lurches for Livia, as if she’s going to climb across the table and go for her throat. With a yelp, I push myself in front of Dru, blocking the other woman from my boss.
Someone pushes me, and it’s not Dru, but James. He gives me a dirty look. “Get your old hag off my witch.”