Page 78 of Pushing Daisy
Daisy clears her throat, pulling back her shoulders and sitting up straighter. Manifest the confidence, she tells herself. “Yes. I was wondering if we could have a quick talk about us.”
Sloan tenses. Her hand fists the stem of the glass, her shoulders lock, and her eyes move from Daisy’s face to stare at the centerpiece in the middle of the table. “There is no us to discuss,” she says through a tight jaw.
“I think there is. And I think you do as well, or at least you want there to be. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t be as upset as you are.”
“I’m not upset,” Sloan lies.
“Uh-huh. And I am the most beloved witch in all of Leeside.” This earns Daisy a minor lip quirk that could eventually become a full smile, giving her hope that they are not entirely broken. “You are upset with me, and I get it. I fucked up. As I said after our meeting last week, I accidentally ran over my phone. It took me a couple of days to get a new one. I’m so sorry. Had I known, I would have reached out to you another way to explain.”
Sloan deflates. Daisy can practically see the thoughts running through her mind as they play across her face. The hurt makes her want to stay angry. Other potential feelings pushing her to forgive Daisy. But knowing Sloan, it won’t be that easy.
Daisy continues, “But I think there is still something here. Something we both know is here. I get that you’re hurt. I don’t want to push you toward something you aren’t ready for. However, I also don’t think we can run an event about connecting with others when we don’t appear connected, let alone friendly. So we need to pretend a little, if you will.”
“What do you mean, ‘pretend’?” Sloan asks, her eyes narrowing suspiciously. “What all does that entail?”
“Well, I think we need to behave as though we’re friends, that we like each other. The guests aren’t going to buy into this if we don’t model it. So we need to demonstrate how members from the community who have notoriously been seen as opposites have bonded. How we’ve come together.”
Sloan raises an eyebrow at the choice of wording at the end. “So you want to fake being friends? For the benefit of the event?”
“For the benefit of the community. Let them see that it’s possible,” Daisy clarifies.
She watches as Sloan rolls it over in her mind, sipping her martini as she does. Waiting for an answer is painful because she knows Sloan could say no. But she also knows that Sloan wants this, needs this event to work.
Sloan finally nods. “Fine. I will fake being your friend for this weekend for the sake of the community.”
Daisy smiles broadly. The first step in her plan is complete. Now, for the rest of it to follow.
CHAPTER 44
Sloan
She wants to be friends—again, just friends. Not even real friends this time—fake friends. Sloan plasters a fake smile to go with her fake friend to the main hall so they can start their fake song-and-dance in front of their guests.
When she enters the hall, seeing everyone and that it’s all really happening, it steals her breath away. She’s been so caught up in being angry at Daisy—even if she now recognizes it was maybe an overreaction on her part—that she hasn’t thought about what this event fully means. She pushes the still-present hurt aside for now and considers the magnitude of what they are about to do this weekend, what it will mean to have all these beings from the community who have been shunned for one reason or another gathered in a space alongside other community members who have likely contributed to their blight. It could be a recipe for disaster. But as she looks around the room, the energy is vibrant and pulses with excitement. She pauses in the entryway, needing an extra moment to soak it all in.
Daisy saunters ahead, and Sloan’s eyes follow the sway of her hips. She looks back, extending a hand to Sloan. “Are you coming?” she says.
Sloan tilts her head back, looking to the ceiling as she wills the tears back. It’s such a tiny thing, but this inconsequential gesture nearly undoes her. Her reaching back to ensure Sloan is with her so they move together as a unit. Sloan nods and reaches forward, taking Daisy’s hand in hers, and does her best to ignore the instant heat she feels when they touch and the fact that her heart is now in Daisy’s hand.
Goddess, she wants to be so angry at her, and she’s been desperately trying to stay that way. But all Daisy has to do is look at her, and her walls disappear. The facade may be there, but there is no structure behind it. Despite her best efforts, she fell for Daisy and can’t shake it. Not that she wants to.
Being here, at this event they’ve worked so hard to put together, seeing how happy Daisy is as she holds Sloan’s hand and guides her to the podium… well, it undoes her. Every knot of worry. Every tangle of frustration. It’s all gone. Instead, what remains is a thread binding her to the least likely witch. A witch that she can’t stop thinking about.
Daisy releases her hand, leaving Sloan feeling disconnected and disoriented. It takes her a moment to stabilize herself; thankfully, Daisy steps up to the podium and starts their welcome greeting. She turns the microphone on, and the energetic chatter in the room hushes.
“Welcome, honored guests, to the inaugural Mixing Our Spirits event. My name is Daisy Hale, and my partner here is Sloan Wilks. We are so excited to have you here with us this weekend,” she says before stepping aside and gesturing for Sloan to take her place.
Speaking in front of crowds has never been an issue for Sloan, but this feels different. The room’s essence is very different from what she’s used to. Rather than being filled with stuffy insurance professionals, she looks out toward people filled to the brim with joy, excitement, and a hope for something better. She can feel that drive for change pulsing through the room, and it’s here that she realizes this is what she’s been missing. The feeling of contributing something more than money to already wealthy individuals’ pockets. She told Mr. Caldwell that she wanted to run her new company with integrity, and looking out at the crowd before her, she confirms that value. She will do whatever she can to protect the people of Leeside from greedy corporations. From people like her family.
She takes the microphone from the stand, steps around the podium, and smiles at their esteemed guests. “As Daisy said, welcome. We are truly honored to have been able to put this event together for you. First, we want to thank The Dandelion for being our hosting site. Daisy and I,” she says, looking over at the most beautiful woman in the room, “had the pleasure of staying here for a weekend to sample the amenities available, and we believe we have selected the best of their activities for you to partake in throughout this weekend. We have also partnered with several community businesses who have kindly offered to host off-site opportunities or supplied materials for us to use here. There are itineraries in each of your rooms. Some of the activities have limited space—though they are offered multiple times—so you can sign up for your desired time if interested. With those housekeeping messages completed, welcome to the first of what we hope will be many Mixing Our Spirits events. We hope this weekend allows you to build community, find old and new friends, and perhaps a new passion.” She smiles softly at Daisy as she hands Sloan a glass of champagne. Raising it, Sloan says, “To Mixing Our Spirits!” The room repeats the sentiment before sips are taken, and the excited chatter returns.
As Daisy turns to face her, Sloan doesn’t need to fake the emotion written on her features and embedded in her skin. No, not at all. “To Mixing Our Spirits,” Daisy repeats lowly, for only Sloan to hear. Sloan nods and says it back as they clink their glasses together. They each take a sip and a deep breath before Daisy entwines her fingers with Sloan’s, and they head into the crowd.
The cocktail hour passes quickly, along with the dinner. She never realized how much she loved people-watching until tonight. Being able to see connections happen in real time has been fascinating. Attendees have been remarkably open to mingling, which she didn’t consider before tonight. The possibility that their guests may not want to mingle hadn’t even crossed her mind; even so, the enthusiasm with which they all appear to have jumped into embracing the goal of Mixing Our Spirits is surprising. She was expecting a bit of hesitancy or for people to be shy, but it’s as if they have been waiting for an opportunity like this. As she settles into the spot on the lawn that Daisy has claimed for the movie night, she finds herself excited to see the changes in their guests throughout the weekend.
“You good?” Daisy asks.
“I’m perfect. I’ll be honest, I wasn’t entirely sure what to expect this weekend, and while we’re only a few hours in, I am already pleasantly surprised. I can’t believe how we are literally watching new relationships form. Between beings who may never have had the opportunity to gather in this way because of our stupid community and how much harm has been done over the years thanks to Grog and his ilk. You’ve accomplished a wonderful thing here, Daisy. Truly. I hope you’re proud of yourself. I know I’m proud of you.”
