As if he could sense the oncoming storm, Tommy said, “Come on, Isobel. Be reasonable.”
“Reasonable?” I felt my brows rise, and something hysterical bubbled up inside me. “I’ve been reasonable.” I looked at the other woman. “And if she’s to be believed, I’ve been a doormat.” I hated to think it about myself, but I was pretty sure she was right.
“Not a doormat,” Tommy said. “Just sweet. Accommodating. That’s what I like about you.”
I laughed, and it sounded as mad as I felt. But this wasn’t a madness driven by the loss of Tommy. It was the loss of me. Seeing this beautiful scene that he’d created for another woman made it so clear how I’d become a facilitator in someone else’s life.
“You can have him,” I said to the other woman. “You’re apparently getting a better version than I ever did.” I turned, intending to stalk away.
But suddenly, it didn’t seem like enough.
I spun back to them, eyeing the remains of the dinner on their plates. I squinted, focusing all of my unused magic on them, and conjured a blast of wind. It appeared from seemingly out of nowhere, creating a tiny explosion of food that splattered all over their stunned faces.
Tommy glared at me, thunder in his eyes. Satisfaction surged through me. I was pretty sure that his date was human, so she had no idea what had just happened.
Tommy did, though, and as the ketchup dripped off his chin, he looked like the idiot that he was.
“Enjoy each other,” I said, giving them a little wave.
As I stalked past the food service cart, I grabbed the bottle of champagne and took it with me.
Chapter
Two
Isobel
I stepped into the elevator, the champagne bottle hanging from my hand. The waiter had already uncorked it. Perfect. I raised it to my mouth and took a sip. The bubbles exploded over my tongue, delicious until they took on a sour taste.
I glared at the bottle, then turned my glare to the mirrored wall. It wasn’t the champagne’s fault. It was Tommy’s fault. My fault, for letting him pull one over on me like this. I rubbed at my forehead with the back of my sleeve, removing the last bit of bird poo. Mascara streaked under my eyes, and I looked a state.
I hadn’t realized I’d been crying. How embarrassing. Maybe I could have convinced the birds to attack in a chaos of wings and poo.
How had I let this happen to me?
The elevator stopped on the twenty-second floor, and the doors whooshed open to reveal a fabulously dressed woman in her sixties. She stepped in, grace personified. She was everything I could have hoped to be—polished, sophisticated, confident.
She looked from my tear-streaked face to the champagne bottle in my hands, then raised a brow.
I lifted the bottle to her. “Want a sip?”
“I’ll pass, thank you.” She smiled, and it was kinder than I’d expected it to be. “But whoever did this to you, they’re not worth it.”
I gave her a weak smile.
“Truly,” she said as the elevator continued its trip. “Grieve tonight, but tomorrow is a new day. Wake up and say, “Screw him.” She smiled. “Or her. Either way, you’re better than them. And life will be better without them.”
When the doors opened, she gave me one last nod, then stepped out and swanned across the lobby, leaving a trail of elegance in her wake.
I blew out a breath. “Wow.”
Pretty amazing, huh?
The voice came from near my feet, and I looked down to see a chubby calico cat at my side. It was my familiar, whom I hadn’t seen in months. Probably a year. “Poa? What are you doing here?”
I felt a change. Like you grew a pair of ovaries and got your head out of your butt.
Poa had never liked Tommy, which should have been my first clue he was no good. She also didn’t like the fact that he’d discouraged me from using my magic.
“I should have listened to you,” I said.
Well, listen to me now and get out of this elevator before it takes you back up there and another bird shits on you.
I nodded, gripping the neck of the champagne bottle tightly. “That’s good advice.”
I’m full of it, honey, trust me. And my next suggestion is to get into the loo and clean yourself up.
I sighed and headed out of the elevator. “Good point.”
I found the ladies' lavatory near the elevators and did the best I could to remove the mascara from under my eyes. I washed my face—twice for the forehead—then applied a fresh coat of lipstick.
Good work. You look almost normal.
“Ha, ha.” I grabbed the champagne, which I’d set on the counter, and tested it. After the woman’s pep talk and the fresh lipstick, it tasted better. But could I walk around London with an open champagne bottle in my hand? Did it make a difference that it was expensive? Wealthy people rarely got in trouble with the police, and I wasn’t one of them, but with this champagne, I might be able to pass.
Where will you go now? Poa asked as we walked out into the lobby.
I glanced around to see if anyone noticed the cat at my side. It wasn’t like she was a teacup poodle or Frenchie, both common to see out and about. Cats, on the other hand… But if anyone noticed, they didn’t say anything. Maybe it was because we were in a fancy hotel and they thought I was one of the eccentric guests.
I liked that idea and tried straightening my shoulders and adopting the walk of the fabulous woman who’d encouraged me in the elevator. No one ever bothered people who looked that fabulous and confident.
I felt Poa’s gaze on me and looked down. She shook her head. You’re not pulling it off.
I glared. “Mean.”
Truthful. Don’t be so stiff.
“I can’t believe I’m taking advice from a cat.”
Honey, if you’d taken my advice sooner, you wouldn’t be in this position.
“Fair enough.” I sighed. “What do you suggest?”
To start, go over to that bar and ask for a champagne glass. Then you won’t look like a wino.
“I’m not sure that’s true, but okay.” I veered toward the hotel bar and took a seat on one of the emerald velvet stools. Poa jumped up onto a stool next to me, and I hissed, “It’s not normal to have a cat in a bar.” I lowered my voice. “Not in human London, at least.”
The humans can’t see me.
I raised my brows. “Really?”
She nodded. There’s a lot you don’t know about me. You would, if you hadn’t abandoned your magic.
Embarrassment flushed through me. She was right. I’d abandoned my gifts for a man. A worthless man. It had happened so slowly, with Tommy subtly suggesting that I didn’t need to use my power so much, that I almost hadn’t noticed. It had happened all the same.
Incoming. Poa nodded toward the other end of the bar, and I turned to see a bartender approaching. He was young, no more than twenty-five to my thirty, and had a friendly smile. “May I get you a glass for that, Miss?”
“Thank you.”
He nodded and turned to retrieve a glass, then presented it to me. I took the flute, looking between the bottle of wine and him. “You don’t mind that I brought my own wine to your bar?”