Winter's Spell, page 12
Now it was Tuesday and she had been looking forward to seeing Tessa again, but it was evident that she could not leave Mo alone again all day.
“Okay, Mo, let’s go. You’re coming with me to the theater today,” said Roxy that morning over breakfast.
Mo looked up from her bowl of raw shrimp with a giant smile.
“Really? You mean it?” A piece of glossy, translucent shrimp slid down her face and Roxy tried not to gag. It was really beyond her ken as to how someone so graceful and beautiful could be such a disgusting eater.
Roxy smiled as warmly as she could and nodded. “Absolutely. It’ll be better for you to be near me. And maybe we can find you something to do over there to keep you busy. And safe, of course. I can’t imagine anyone would try to use evil magic in a place that is full of humans.” A part of her was still worried about letting Mo mingle with regular humans at the theater, especially since they’d inevitably have to spend time apart. Another part of her was frankly bored with babysitting Mo, especially since Mo was having a harder and harder time coping with staying in the apartment. Roxy couldn’t blame her either; she’d be crawling the walls after four days of doing nothing, too.
Mo nodded. “You are very smart, Roxy. That is a good idea. And I am very bored.”
Roxy sighed. This had been a constant refrain for the last few days. “Yes, I get it. And I’m sorry you’re bored. I wish you could go home, too.”
“You are tired of me?” Mo sounded genuinely hurt.
“No, of course not,” said Roxy, mustering up as much sincerity as possible. She felt bad for Mo, who was strange but in general very nice and obviously in an unusual predicament. The complaining left something to be desired, though. “I meant that I’m sorry you’re stuck here since it’s making you unhappy.”
“I am happy to help you, though,” said Mo. She winked at Roxy. “I will help you today with Tessa and getting your true love.”
“Oh no,” said Roxy quickly. “Really, that’s okay. I’ve got it handled.”
Mo gave her a look as though she didn’t quite believe it.
“Don’t worry about it,” continued Roxy. “Just try to act normal—human—at the theater. Don’t criticize people. Just agree with them and help them. I’m sure Tessa can find you something to do to be helpful.”
Mo looked the tiniest bit hurt but finally smiled and nodded before slurping down the rest of her chilly breakfast.
* * *
The theater was oddly quiet when they arrived at nine, even though that was the time Tessa had instructed them to show up.
They walked round and round the back areas of the theater, Roxy retracing her steps with Tessa the week before when she’d given her a tour, but there was no sign of anyone. The theater felt empty and so quiet, it unsettled Roxy. The goose bumps she’d been waiting to feel ever since Mo showed up were finally rising on her skin, and the back of her neck pricked in anticipation.
“Are we too early? Too late?” asked Mo, the expression of concern on her face mirroring Roxy’s own.
“I don’t know. I thought she said nine,” she said. She started to pull out her phone to check their latest exchange.
Before she could figure out which pocket she’d slid it into, a door behind them burst open and in strode Lisa with a gust of cold winter air behind her.
When she saw Roxy, she smirked a bit. Roxy didn’t like that jagged smile, more like a threat than a greeting.
“You,” said Lisa, without any preamble or greeting. “Come back to help out today?” Roxy felt Lisa’s gaze sizing her up in a way that she didn’t understand at all.
“That is the plan,” announced Mo, her voice meeting Lisa’s iciness. Roxy looked at Mo, impressed. She’d drawn herself up to her full height, somewhere around six feet, and with her shoulders squared and arms folded across her chest, she looked like a formidable foe. “Why are you here?”
“I’m the star of the show,” said Lisa. It didn’t come off as vain or boastful. She was simply stating a fact. She took a step toward Mo, taking off her beautiful gray cashmere coat and matching beret as she approached and shaking out her stunningly long, platinum blonde hair. “Are you going to be my assistant?”
Mo looked a bit uncertain, and she glanced over at Roxy. Roxy shrugged. It wouldn’t be her first choice, but if there was anyone who would be too self-centered to notice Mo’s quirks, it was Lisa.
“You did say you wanted to help out,” Roxy reminded her.
Mo thought it over. “You are not very nice,” she said finally, meeting Lisa’s gaze. “But you are the star of the show. So even though I am the daughter of a prince, I will be your assistant. For now.”
Roxy’s eyes got big and her jaw dropped. Mo had clearly forgotten their agreement to keep a low profile and try to “act human.”
Lisa’s eyebrows had shot up at this announcement. “I didn’t know I was in the presence of royalty.”
“She means, um, the prince of…um, Prince of the Sea! It’s a restaurant. Back home.” Roxy stammered as she spoke, trying to think on her feet. “Seafood, you know.”
“Yes, I seem to recall how much you enjoy sushi,” said Lisa, irony tingeing her words, but her expression was, unusually, one of amusement.
Mo glared at Roxy. She was not a fan of Roxy’s explanation, but Roxy simply shrugged again. She couldn’t have Mo mouthing off about being a princess. People would start thinking she was delusional.
“I think it would be great if you would give Mo a trial run as your assistant,” said Roxy loudly, patting Mo on the shoulder. “Weren’t you just telling me how bored you’ve been at home?”
“You won’t have that problem with me,” said Lisa.
Mo sighed and nodded. “A trial run?”
“Yes,” said Roxy. “You can do it this week and see if you like it.”
“Okay,” said Mo, nodding.
“We can start with today, tomorrow, and Thursday, if you like,” said Lisa. “Nine a.m. sharp here at the theater until at least three, maybe four or five, depending on the schedule. Deal?”
She put out a hand to shake.
Mo stared at it. She glanced at Roxy. They hadn’t covered handshakes. Who shook hands anymore?
Mo put out her own hand and let it hover in the air next to Lisa’s like a dead fish, then sort of…gently slapped Lisa’s hand with her own. It looked completely bizarre.
Lisa rolled her eyes. “Wow. She’s a little rough around the edges for a princess.” She chuckled at her own joke. “I see I’ve got a lot of work ahead of me if I’m going to train you to be my assistant.” She shoved her coat and beret at Mo and added her cream-and-blue scarf to the pile in Mo’s arms. “Come along then. Tessa showed me my private dressing room yesterday.”
The two of them started to walk down the winding hallway, away from Roxy.
“Hey!”
Lisa looked back, eyebrows raised. “Yes?”
“What about me? Where’s Tessa? Where’s everyone else?”
Lisa cocked an eyebrow. “That’s interesting. Didn’t Tessa tell you? She’s got a morning meeting with Joy and Chayo and the theater manager. Rehearsal doesn’t start until after lunch. I’m here early to work on lines and set up my dressing room.”
“Tessa told me to come at nine.” Roxy felt rather deflated. She’d been counting on seeing Tessa that morning, and she felt a bit forgotten. Tessa had seemed so keen to spend time with her on Saturday, but maybe she’d misread her?
“She’s in charge of a lot of people and money,” said Lisa as she began walking away again, Mo trailing behind. “I’m sure you can keep yourself busy in the wood shop.”
The last words were hard to hear, as Lisa had already turned the corner, but Roxy recognized the nasty implications in her voice. Lisa clearly didn’t think of her as anything but a measly little stagehand.
She now found herself alone in the dim hallway, wondering what to do. She felt small pinpricks of disappointment behind her eyes; she could hardly believe it. She wasn’t going to cry over a small misunderstanding, was she? Of course not. She would simply go to the wood shop and get busy until Tessa and Chayo were free.
She had a good sense of direction, so finding the wood shop where she’d spent the day the previous week wasn’t hard. But the door was locked. She pulled and pulled on the knob, but it wouldn’t budge.
She walked back down the hallway and into the theater. She shivered. The house was cold, the heating clearly turned down while not in use. Theaters were often kept on the cool side since the performers had to perform beneath such hot lights on stage. Remembering that small detail made Roxy feel better, a little less lost. She wasn’t a complete theater noob. And Tessa had definitely invited her. She just had to find her.
She walked across the stage and toward the other set of wings, when something up in the rafters caught her eye. Several somethings, in fact. She squinted and counted no less than seven small, lavender-colored sachets hung up in the rafters. Having grown up with a witch for a best friend, she recognized them as magical objects and her heart began to race.
Was there a magical presence in the theater? Was it dangerous? Was it related to Mo, Madame Clerval, and the missing bracelet from the museum?
She wished she knew how to get up to the catwalk, but that hadn’t been part of her tour the other day. Should she mention them to Tessa when she saw her? Then again, maybe they were part of the show. Tessa had mentioned something about magic being part of The Winter’s Tale. Or had she? She tried to remember what she’d heard Tessa discussing with Jack at the brewery when they’d been talking about the play, but honestly, she’d tuned them out.
She decided she’d play it by ear, somewhat, and later that day she’d see if there was a way to draw Tessa’s attention to the mysterious sachets in the rafters.
Unless…was it possible Tessa was involved in the plot to catch Mo? The thought hadn’t occurred to Roxy, but now it hit her full force. She hated the idea, but she had to consider it. If she was, then Roxy had already revealed too much about Mo and Madame Clerval and the museum. Crap. She would have to be more careful until she knew exactly what was going on—even if the idea that beautiful, talented, sparkling-eyed Tessa could be a mermaid killer felt so very, very wrong. Roxy hoped to goodness she was overreacting.
She continued her search for signs of life in the theater once she’d regained her composure, deciding that she’d go to the front of the house and see if anything was going on in the lobby of the theater. As she walked into the theater, the temperature rose significantly, and she enjoyed the sudden warmth.
There were also voices. Suddenly, a door near the box office window swung open, and a short, squat woman strode out and brushed past Roxy without a second glance. She was older—probably over sixty, Roxy would guess, with an old-fashioned hairdo popular among women of that generation, cut into short layers that looked a bit like a helmet, sprayed together with heavy-duty hairspray, dyed an unflattering and completely unnatural shade of dark blond. Her face was scrunched up with a sour expression that put Roxy in mind of a toad.
What was perhaps most noticeable, however, was not this woman’s appearance. She looked like any number of women in their early sixties. There was really nothing remarkable in her appearance at all. Instead, what was remarkable was the immediate and almost overwhelming chill that radiated off her. Roxy felt it physically, as though a wave of cold water rushed over her and was gone again. She’d never felt anything like it—nor did she wish to feel it again.
She shuddered and rubbed her arms to warm herself up again and was surprised to find that her hands and arms were warm. Had she imagined that feeling of icy cold water passing over her?
Roxy approached the door the woman had just exited, and saw that it was marked “Office.” She felt sure she’d heard Tessa’s voice inside. She knocked gently on the door.
The door swung open violently.
“Yes?” There was an edge of frustration to Tessa’s voice, her expression stormy. Clearly, this was not a good time to interrupt and Roxy felt her hackles rise. Why had she been invited to come that day if she wasn’t wanted? She and Tessa had been texting just the night before and it had all seemed so simple. Tessa had sounded enthusiastic and encouraging, but it was all too easy to misread a text. Roxy began to doubt herself even more.
“Hey, um—”
Before she could apologize for interrupting, Tessa cut her off, her expression changing immediately to one of warmth, a big smile chasing away the clouds of worry. “Roxy!” She enveloped her in a spontaneous hug, and Roxy felt her concerns ebbing away. Tessa was warm and soft and fit perfectly against her body. She felt something deep within her surge with anticipation and something else, more tender. “I’m so glad you’re here. I’m sorry I was so rude just now. I thought you were Lisa.”
Tessa rolled her eyes at Chayo at the mention of Lisa, and Roxy couldn’t help smirking a bit. Lisa thought she was a hotshot, and she liked dressing down Roxy, but Tessa and Chayo were not in on it as Lisa had implied.
“Nope, definitely not Lisa,” said Roxy with a grin. “At least, not last I checked.”
She was rewarded with a giant smile from Tessa and a chuckle from Chayo.
Tessa was wearing a bottle green sweater dress that hit just above the knee and hugged her slim yet curvy frame in all sorts of delicious ways that made Roxy wonder how long she could hold out on her promise to herself to “take things slow.” Especially if Tessa kept giving her hugs like that last one.
Tessa was wearing a bit more makeup than the last time they’d hung out, and she looked beautiful, professional, and sexy all at once. The color of her dress brought out the deep aqua and green streaks in her hair as well as the green stones in her earrings.
For once, Roxy was grateful to Jazz and Hazel for taking her shopping last fall. They’d insisted she get rid of all her ripped-up work pants and jeans, the faded old flannels that had seen better days, and replace them with new, spiffier versions of the same. It had been a birthday present, they said, and while it felt awkward to accept their money in this way, she was now happy she had. Her brand-new maroon work pants and slate gray button-down looked sharp and not at all out of place next to Tessa and Chayo, who was dressed in all black with a dapper gray plaid newsboy type cap, but it was clear that the button-down shirt and black jeans were of good quality. The two of them were evidently dressed a bit nicer than usual, probably due to whatever meetings they had that day.
Tessa sighed and dropped into an office chair next to Chayo, indicating a third one for Roxy. The theater office was small and cramped, with an inner door on one wall that led directly into the box office. There were filing cabinets serving as supports for the desks, two computers, a printer/fax machine, and several shelves, all covered in stacks of paper as well as folders and binders with even more papers. The rest of the wall space was jam-packed with framed posters, playbills, and signed celebrity photos. Rather than feeling homey, though, the space was cluttered and ugly.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t able to meet you at the door,” said Tessa. “Glad you found us.”
“Lisa said you had a meeting with the theater manager?”
Tessa and Chayo nodded. “The main cast is all here and a good portion of the crew, so we had to meet with the theater manager, Barb, to discuss schedules. The meeting was supposed to be yesterday, but somehow they forgot to tell me that the theater manager had yesterday off.”
“Oh. How frustrating,” said Roxy. “Did Barb just leave here? I saw a woman leaving the office right before I got here. She looked…”
“Like she’d swallowed a bug?” said Chayo.
“That was exactly how she looked.” Roxy couldn’t help grinning even as she suppressed another shudder. Even the memory of that person and her aura, or whatever you would call it, was enough to strike ice in her heart.
Tessa smiled momentarily before her expression changed back to one of concern.
“She’s a real pain in the neck right now.”
“You can say that again,” Chayo, grimaced. “Everything about this woman is annoying.”
“Sorry to hear that,” said Roxy. “Everything okay for the play?”
Tessa nodded slightly, her expression back to one of tension and concern. She shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t know. During the grant application process, the theater owner had been so supportive and wonderful. I thought I’d be working primarily with him. But it turns out that for day-to-day operations, he has nothing to do with it. Instead, it’s Barb who handles it.”
“And Barb is…a barbarian?” said Roxy.
Tessa chuckled a little before heaving another deep sigh. “Kind of the opposite, actually. She has so many rules about everything. Some of them seem reasonable, but others are nitpicky and annoying. She’s already had an unpleasant run-in with Lisa, too, and that didn’t make things any better.”
“The worst part of it is that she treats us like kids.” Chayo shook her head in disgust or frustration, Roxy couldn’t quite tell. “Like she’s doing us a giant favor and just expecting us to screw it up.”
“That’s horrible,” said Roxy. “Is there anything you can do? Can you complain to the owner?”
“I don’t want to do that just yet,” said Tessa. “I’m hoping we can figure it out on our own.” She shook back the tendrils of hair that had fallen onto her face, as though shaking away the concerns about the theater manager. “Let’s talk about something more fun,” she said. She directed a big smile at Roxy that made Roxy feel warm all over.
Chayo and Tessa filled Roxy in on some of the schedule for the rest of January before walking together to the wood shop, where Tessa left them for a while. Chayo and Roxy fell into the easy rhythm of working together. They were working on the throne again, sanding the wood and preparing it for painting. Roxy felt a pleasant sense of calm come over her during which she could forget about Lisa, Mo, Madame Clerval, Barb and her chilling vibes, her anxieties about the future, and everything else.
