Page 82 of A Barista's Guide to Love & Larceny
“I just want to say that I know it’s been a challenging month together,” she said, “and there have been bumps in the road. But overall, you five have impressed me with not only your skills but your persistence. When I selected you for this project, I did so because I saw something special in you, and each one of you has repaid my trust handsomely.” Wyatt shifted on his cot, perhaps waiting for her to make an exception for him, but the professor kept going. “Friday night will pose our greatest test yet—but I have every confidence in the team we’ve built and the plan we’ve created. If we stick together, overcommunicate, and remain on the same page”—here her eyes did flick, briefly, to Wyatt—“I believe we’ll be able to pull this off. Any last questions?”
Dani glanced around the room at her teammates. She had complicated feelings about this set of people—McKenna and Oliver, obviously, were her friends, and Katya was coming closer to something amicable. Wyatt, though… she definitely didn’t like him, but she couldn’t find it in herself to hate him, either, not even after what had happened with Kass. It wasn’t how she’d wanted things to go down, but she couldn’t dump all the responsibility in Wyatt’s lap. It was her fault for not coming clean to Kass or breaking up with him sooner.
No, she didn’t unequivocally love or even like all of them, but she realized as her eyes glided from face to face that she did kind of trust them, including Silva. She didn’t think Wyatt would go rogue again, and knowing the professor would actually be there on the ground with them this time was a form of reassurance. It wasn’t to say Dani wouldn’t be eaten alive by anxiety in these days leading up to the gala since there were still plenty of things that could go wrong—but she felt like these people had her back, and that wasn’t nothing.
“Very well,” Silva said when no one volunteered a question. “We won’t be meeting again before the gala, but you can of course always reach me through Miss Novak’s app.
“And because I don’t say it enough,” she added as everyone rose to leave, “thank you. And please—be safe. Until Friday.”
Thirty
Safe was one thing—calm was another. With every day that brought them closer to the gala, Dani’s anxiety ratcheted a notch or two higher. Before, in the lead-up to her missions for Silva, she’d been able to distract herself at least momentarily with the pleasant diversion of Kass and her all-consuming crush on him. Now, the thought of him was self-flagellation.
Instead, she continued to devote herself as best as she could to work, studying for the upcoming end-of-semester exams—which, against her wishes, would happen regardless of anything else going on in her life—and spending time with her friends. She, McKenna, and Oliver were inseparable for the remainder of the week, with Oliver staying a few nights in their apartment. The newest iteration of the charm and their concoctions had stabilized Oliver’s sleeping habits again, but bearing witness to what that actually meant—snatches of restless sleep, waking in distress and often covered in sweat—reaffirmed to Dani just how unsustainable this situation was. She was glad their team was doing something about it—but that didn’t mean she didn’t lie awake most nights, thinking about Kass.
As such, she did not get much sleep either, and instead turned to her oft-worshiped gods of caffeine to get her through. Dani had always believed there was no such thing as too much coffee, at least not for her, but by the time the gala rolled around on Friday evening, she thought she might be approaching her threshold—or so the uncontrollable shaking of her left leg would have her believe. Her heartbeat was trying for some kind of world first, and shethought she heard a high-pitched whine coming from inside her head, like a mosquito with nothing better to do than spelunk in her ear canals.
“Babe.” She jumped at the sound of McKenna’s voice beside her. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’ll survive.” She tried for a reassuring smile, but her lips felt like they were made of wax. Maybe that was just the lipstick McKenna had picked out for her, a shimmery purple called woebegone nightshade. Her friend had done her makeup in lavender and silver, and her hair was pulled back in a loose fishtail braid. “I just had one too many shots of espresso this morning.”
The two of them were sharing a car to the gala, per Silva’s instructions. They’d made a quick stop at the professor’s office so Oliver could give them their enchanted shells for the evening, and so that McKenna could apply glamours to Wyatt and Oliver before they set off to OneiroLabs. Dani had taken the opportunity to hug Oliver tightly, knowing that the next time they saw each other, things would be different, even if she wasn’t sure how.
Their car hit a pothole and Dani’s stomach lurched dangerously in response. She buried her gloved hands in the voluminous black skirt of her ball gown and squeezed the fabric for comfort as they turned onto the traffic-choked street in front of the university’s art museum. A long line of cars was backed up to the corner, windshield wipers synchronized against the brisk rain. Dani pressed her cheek to the window to get a better look at the crowd that was gradually filtering up the stairs and into the front courtyard. As the car inched closer, she could make out the flash of jewel-toned gowns and camera bulbs.
“There’s not going to be an announcer, is there?” she asked.
“Ooh, like a royal ball,” McKenna said. “That would be delightful, but I don’t expect them to bequitethat pompous, tragically.”
When it was their turn to park, a valet ran up to help them outof the car and provide coverage from the rain with a large umbrella. Dani, true to form, stepped on her own hem as she climbed onto the sidewalk, even with his assistance. She was marginally less enamored of her gown now that she had to walk in it, though she couldn’t stay mad at it for long. Despite her clumsiness she really did feel like a godsdamn princess.
She allowed herself, for one precious sliver of a moment, to imagine a world where Kass was the one helping her out of the car instead.
You clean up nice, he’d say with a bashful smile.
Thanks, she’d say shyly.So do you.
But she wasn’t in that world, or on that kinder timeline. It was McKenna coming over to her, not Kass, and Dani’s mind was blasted once again with the overwhelming, enchanted sight of her best friend in her regalia. Silva had told McKenna to go all out, and she had certainly taken that instruction to heart. The gown they’d conjured for her at the boutique was dazzling enough, covered in individual scales that flickered like a bonfire, vermilion and gold and the occasional streak of bright, bright blue. The skirt hugged her legs and reached a long train out behind her, almost like a tail, and the bodice was beaten gold.
But McKenna hadn’t been satisfied with that; she’d spent several hours last night adding her own alterations crafted from natural materials she’d harvested in the forest—a set of gauntlets and a single pauldron carved from tree bark, plus a headpiece made of twigs and leaves, all painted gold. The resulting look was of a dragon slayer attending a ball being held in honor of her latest kill.
And whatever glamours she’d crafted tonight, they werestrong, so much so that Dani could feel the froth of them in her bones and in her teeth, which were buzzing like they were battery powered. A faint bushel of light emanated from McKenna’s face and hair, both of which she’d sprinkled with some kind of golden dust, and herskin shone like the ocean under sunrise. The people around them, valets and attendees alike, collectively lost their train of thought as they passed her, many stumbling or bumping into one another as their gazes magnetized toward the quarter-fae girl decked out in full glamour.
We’re in place.Katya’s voice jolted Dani out of her temporary trance, and she reached up to touch the shell she’d already forgotten was in her ear.Wyatt, Oliver, and I are in the van a block away from OneiroLabs.
All set up and waiting for the cue, Wyatt said.
Excellent, said Silva.I’m inside the museum, mingling. Miss Amari and Miss Lionet?
We just arrived, McKenna said.We’ll be inside momentarily.
She offered Dani her arm, and Dani took it, using McKenna as a shield as they braved the row of flashing cameras, all of which swung toward them so fast it was dizzying, their lenses drawn like compass points to McKenna’s powerful north. No one seemed to care about Dani, which was fine by her, and she expected the photographers would look at the pictures they’d taken later and frown at the shadow clinging to McKenna’s side.
There was, of course, no announcer; the only person monitoring their entrance beyond the paparazzi was the bouncer, who double-checked their names against his list before allowing them to make their way into the museum’s front courtyard.
Dani had only visited the art museum once before, during the campus tour in orientation week, and she remembered it as one of the most beautiful buildings at the Leap, bedded among manicured gardens and set against the backdrop of the forest that abutted the campus. On a normal day, the museum was an impressive building, with walls the color of sand and a terra-cotta roof, which, combined with the high arches of its Renaissance revival facade and the long reflecting pool glimmering before them, gave off strong overtones of Tuscany. Tworecent wings had been added in a more modern style, all glass and polished wood, lying on either side of the pool like sphinx arms.
Tonight, though, it had been utterly transformed. Light danced among the reddish tiles and floated in curls of sparkling smoke from the chimneys. The autumn vines clinging to the walls had been spelled into summer, now lush with flowers of moon white and periwinkle. Guests milled about in the gardens around the water, all of which had been magically brought back to life even on the brink of winter. A rain-repellent charm had been cast above the breadth of the courtyard, protecting the attendees and their expensive ensembles from the elements. The smell of maraschino cherry and old leather hung in the air, and the museum’s doors lay open to the night, liberating the sounds of the party within: conversation, laughter, the strains of a string quartet simpering baroquely in some distant corner.
