Page 103 of Witch You Would
“I wanna see a cat!”
“I have a cat!”
“I have a dog, miss. My dog’s name is Ginger, and she’s white and brown!”
They didn’t stop talking the entire time it took me to cross the room. Gil held out his hand, and I took it, and togetherwe faced the excited crowd.
If this wasn’t love, I didn’t know what else it could be.
Chapter 21
Gil
It was raining when we got back to the hotel. Mary, Isaac’s assistant, waited for me outside the van under a giant umbrella,wearing a magenta dress and a deranged smile.
“Hey Mr. Presto how are you I’m great thanks,” she said in a single breath. “Isaac wants to meet with you right now aboutthe thing he talked to you about okay great!”
Penelope raised her eyebrows. “What thing?”
“I’ll tell you later.” I’d almost forgotten about it, honestly. So many things had happened since then, and Hollywood stuffseemed to be, as my abuela used to say, mucho ruido y pocas nueces—a lot of talk, but no action.
A black sedan drove me and Mary through the usual slow and shitty traffic to a parking garage off Brickell. It took me a fewminutes to realize her dress was spelled to change colors; I thought I was losing it when I looked out the window, then lookedback, and it was suddenly orange. Her lipstick had changed to match, too.
A valet opened the door for each of us. Mary led me through a long hallway paneled in enchanted wood to Stefania’s Steakhouse. I knew of it because my dad took clients here sometimes, and mymom ate here with friends, hoping to run into him so she could show how happy she was without him. So mature.
The walls were all coppery wood, carved into intricate geometric designs spelled to absorb voices while amplifying the softclassical music coming from hidden speakers. The ceiling was more wood, the floors slate or gray marble. No cloths on thetables, just ingrained patterns that likely held enchantments to repel water and stains. Leather chairs, some with arms, somewithout, some those high-backed bucket-shaped kind. Instead of chandeliers, rippling curtains of light hovered in the airlike brighter versions of the aurora borealis in a uniform yellowish white.
Isaac sat in a bucket chair across from a guy with thick black hair and icy blue eyes who looked about my dad’s age, dressedlike a TV mafioso. Fancy suit, thick gold chain, big gold watch probably enchanted to do a bunch of random stuff like repelmosquitoes, passively check for illusions, and summon his minions with a gesture. He flashed me his perfectly even white teethas I sat next to Isaac, who dismissed Mary by flapping his hands at her.
“Leandro Presto,” the man said. “A pleasure to meet you in the flesh.”
“Likewise, Mr....?” I asked.
“Ricardo Noboa,” he replied. “But you can call me Rick.”
Isaac nudged me. “Rick is producing the show I was telling you about, the street magic one.”
Yeah, I’d kinda guessed. “Isaac told me a little bit about it. Sounds cool.”
“Cool. Yes.” Rick raised a finger and a waiter appeared at his elbow. “Get the boy a menu and a drink.”
I was twenty-eight years old, but okay.
“What can I bring for you, sir?” the waiter asked as he handed me a spelled piece of parchment—no, vellum. Menu items magically wrote themselves in elaborate cursive on the surface as I watched. None of them had prices.
I wanted water, but this felt like some kind of man test. I rattled off the name of some whiskey I’d seen at my dad’s house.Male ritual complete, hopefully.
Rick tapped his glass with a big gold ring on his forefinger. Tap, tap. “I’ll get right to it. We’re putting together a newshow for the network calledMagic in the Streets, where the talent will walk around doing spells for random people. Sort of like what you do already.”
Sort of.
“We think you have a good rapport with people,” he continued. “It’s one thing to talk at a camera or a studio audience, andit’s another to be out there mingling.”
“Totally different,” I agreed. I wasn’t sure I was as good at “mingling” as he needed me to be, but I probably wouldn’t literallybe running up to strangers.
“We want to bring you in for a screen test, but between you and me, you’re at the top of our list.” Tap, tap. “Isaac hereis producing and showrunning, and he says you’ve been particularly... open-minded about certain requests.”
I didn’t like his smile. Not the one Isaac gave me, either.
