Page 74 of Witch You Would
“Doing my best,” I said. “Thanks for the advice, Grandpa.”
“Don’t just take my word for it,” he said. “Listen to yourself, too. You’ve got a good head on your shoulders when you useit.”
I laughed, and we went back and forth about nothing important before we hung up. Talking to him always made me feel better.I hoped it made him feel better, too.
As soon as I finished my to-do list, I was going to find Penelope and drag her back into the casting booth. One way or theother, things needed to be settled between us. Not forever, maybe, but for now.
Groaning internally, I called my mom to get it over with. But at least I had something to look forward to afterward.
By the time I finished with my mom’s complaining and Ed’s methodical, chronological list of everything he thought I neededto know about, it was past one. I could order room service again, but if there was a group lunch in the restaurant or on thepool deck, that was probably where I’d find Penelope. So I glued my mustache on, slicked back my hair, and got my safety glasses.A dashing superhero, Leandro was not.
The pool deck was indeed the party spot, with people swimming or tanning, taking advantage of the lack of rain. Dylan saidPenelope and Amy had left together after eating, that Amy was still upset about her spell; she kept “quietly going to pieces,”as Quentin put it. I ate at an appropriately sociable speed while chatting with people, then headed to the first floor, findingAlina at the desk again.
“Do you ever sleep?” I asked her.
“A little every time I blink,” Alina replied with a grin. “Can I help you with anything?”
“Maybe. Did Penelope and Amy come through here?”
“They went down the hall, I think to the theater.”
I thanked her and headed that way.
The theater room’s dark walls looked like stained bamboo interspersed with cloth-covered acoustic panels. The floor was anenchanted purple galaxy print, rolls of film floating between sparkling stars. Rows of plush chairs, with drink holders inarmrests that went up and down, sat in front of a giant screen. Along the far wall was one of those fancy choose-your-own-sodamachines next to a table with a small glass-sided popcorn popper.
Penelope and Amy looked up from their seats in the front when I came in. Neither of them was eating, but both had drinks. Penelope also had her notebook and a pencil, and looked like she’d been writing something when I interrupted.
“Sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to bother you two. I was just looking for Penelope.” I almost added “to talk about the nextround,” but that seemed cruel.
Amy smiled, her eyes crinkling behind her glasses. “I should probably go... do something, instead of feeling sorry formyself. My partner told me to enjoy the hotel amenities.”
“Everyone else seems to be swimming,” I suggested.
“That does sound nice. And there’s a thing in the lounge later.” Amy looked at her hands. “I promised I’d play the piano.I’ve learned the basics of enough popular songs to fake them, and Quentin wants to do karaoke.”
Penelope tapped her pencil on the notebook. “Can I talk to Leandro about this?”
Amy’s smile disappeared. “Yes. You can. Maybe he’ll have some ideas. Not that it will do much good, but I at least want toknow, if that makes sense?”
“It does,” Penelope assured her. “Go have fun. I’ll see you later.”
Amy paused in the doorway and smiled at me again. “Do you sing?”
“Not as well as I dance,” I said honestly.
That made her laugh, sweet and light. “Maybe you and Penelope can dance tonight, then.” And on that line, she left.
Penelope stared at her notebook. Now that her hair and makeup weren’t being done by the pros on the set, she looked different—not better or worse, just different. Instead of space buns, she’d pulled her hair back in a ponytail of messy curls, some loose aroundher face like they’d escaped. I didn’t usually notice eye shadow or lipstick unless they were extreme, and if she was wearing any now, she’d made it more natural than obvious.
I had this sense that she’d taken a mask off, a mask someone else had given her, and now I was seeing a more real Penelope.And yet, here I was, with my mask on. But before I spilled my guts to her, I had to be sure there was something serious enoughbetween us to take that step. Her email made me think, made me hope... but it hadn’t been for Leandro. It had been forGil.
Only one way to be sure. Here we go.
Chapter 16
Gil
I sat in the chair next to Penelope, the armrest between us. Everything I wanted to say fell right out of my head like I’dfumbled a tall stack of files as soon as I was looking into her clear brown eyes.
