Midlife Magic - Victoria Danann Page 0,41

to my ears. If you’re alone, come and sit here at the bar and chat me up while I work.”

“Okay. But I’m an older and wiser woman since my last visit.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. I know I’m not supposed to accept free meals.”

“Oh that.”

“You don’t sound sorry.”

“Why should I be? It never hurts to be on the right side of the Court.”

“Hmmm. That may make it difficult to trust friendships. If people treat me well as an insurance policy.”

“You could look at it that way. But you seem nice enough. People can like you and have a care for your good side. Both at the same time.”

“I suppose, but it could be hard to tell the difference. I don’t want to be Tony Soprano; have everybody around me feel like they have to laugh at my jokes even when they’re not funny.”

“If you want to know whether or not you’re genuinely liked, just use your intuition.”

I chuckled. “The obvious reply, the one that comes to mind first is, what intuition?”

She cocked her head. “All creatures have intuition. Yours may be blocked or underdeveloped, but even in humans it’s more reliable than the weatherman.”

I laughed. “There’s a low bar.”

“Your inner voice is there. You’ve just forgotten how to find it. Perhaps I could help with that.”

In an attempt to be playful, I said, “Is that a bribe?”

“No,” she said, her expression serious, “it’s friendship.”

“Oh. Well, thank you. Uh. Maybe.”

With a smile, she slid a menu in front of me. “Know what you’re having?”

I looked at the chalkboard. “I will try the winter white soup.”

“Your cheeks are rosy like you’ve been out on the moors this windy day. My soup should be just the thing.”

I didn’t say that in fact I had been out on the ‘moors’, but I agreed the soup sounded better than the fare that I imagined might be offered at any Relais & Châteaux restaurant.

The soup came with an individual-sized loaf of coarse artisan bread and a tiny pot of softened butter. I tried to keep my yummy sounds inaudible to others, but I was sure I would remember that lunch as one of my top five meals of all time.

Molly reappeared in front of me when there was a break in the action and smirked when she saw the result. “No one will object if you want to lick the bowl.”’

I gave her a frown and deadpanned, “I don’t know what you mean. I didn’t like it at all.” I took pity and didn’t leave her looking confused and trying to decide what to say for long. I laughed. “Just joking. I plan to move into the kitchen and live here.”

She returned my laugh and was clearly relieved. “Would you like bread pudding?”

“Oh no. Maybe tonight though. I’ll be back for dinner.”

“We’ll be honored to have you. Since you’ve made a point of saying you prefer to pay, here’s the bill.” When she slid the small slip of paper toward me, my face fell. I must’ve looked worried because she said, “Something wrong?”

“Um. Well. After all that, I left the shop without my, um, purse.”

She chuckled, shaking her head. “Geoffrey!” she called.

A lanky, aproned young man appeared almost instantly from the rear, throwing a long towel over his shoulder as he neared. He cast a brief glance my way before saying, “Yes, Miss?”

“This customer is trying to slide on her bill.”

He looked at me as if he knew who I was and blanched. “Uhhhhh,” he said.

Molly laughed. “No. I’m having you on.” Gotta love a woman with a great sense of humor. “Run down to the Hallows and tell Maggie MacHenry that we have a wayward magistrate here with a bill to pay and no purse.”

Geoffrey inhaled with relief. “Yes, Miss.”

He hung the towel on a hook on the back bar and hurried out still wearing the apron.

“That’s so much better than calling the authorities on me.”

She laughed again. “That would be hard to do, wouldn’t it? Since you’re the ‘authorities’.”

I watched Molly manage the growing lunch trade, many of whom stared at me with open curiosity, but not for long. Since I was wearing the shoes, I was treated to a menagerie of strange sights and, certainly, there was no lingering doubt that Lochlan, Maggie, and Ivy were telling the truth about who and what they were. At least a quarter of the people who filed in looked fully human to me, even with shoes, just like Maggie, Molly, Geoffrey, and Keir. I planned to ask Maggie to expound

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