“What if we see Meredith Munn?” Charlie yelled over the music.
She’d voiced a concern that I’d been thinking about myself.
“I doubt she hangs out in the trendy end of town,” said Greer, coming out of her reverie. “It isn’t against the law for you to go to Pennwood, is it?”
Mutely I shook my head. At least, I didn’t think it was against the law, but I didn’t really understand witch law. Paws thought that was funny, but I felt it was quite serious.
“We’re going shopping with my mother,” Greer went on, shaking her head. “I put in all this effort to get away from the family and become a bartender, and here I am going to the Iriswood Country Club.”
“It’ll be okay,” Charlie assured her. “We’re just spending quality time with family. We all do it.”
“My mother doesn’t do quality time unless she’s firing someone,” said Greer. “Then she’s more than happy to spend twenty minutes with one person at a stretch.”
“That’s charming, but I really don’t think you should be so worried,” said Charlie. “Or go ahead and worry,” she amended, seeing Greer’s quelling glare, “but we’re going to be late and I’m getting out of the Beetle. Come or not.”
With that Charlie pushed the passenger door open and stepped out of the car. I looked at Greer helplessly. She was trying to do me a favor, otherwise she never would have agreed to this adventure. Now she was miserable, and I felt terrible.
“We could go home,” I told her quietly as we made a movement to follow Charlie.
“Yeah, tuck your tail between your legs and run,” encouraged Paws from the back seat.
Greer looked at me sharply, saw how guilty I felt. and said, “Definitely not. I’m sorry. My mother will be fine. She’s a dragon, but I’m sure you can perform a spell that makes us impervious to fire. I would probably have to do this even if the Witches’ Council hadn’t just accused you of treason.” She was trying to smile, but her face still looked white.
“That makes me feel a little better,” I admitted as we joined Charlie on the sidewalk and headed down the street.
“So you aren’t doing this just on our account?” Charlie asked. “Not because Lemmi needs to get away and there’s a chance it will make my career?”
We passed several people as we walked, and I found myself perpetually checking for witches. I didn’t see Meredith Munn or anyone else who looked like they performed spells and talked to ghosts.
Greer sighed. “I would go regardless, because of Miss Goldie.”
“Who?” we asked simultaneously.
“Goldie is my old babysitter. She has also been the director of programming at the Country Club for about thirty years. She loves her job more than anything, and since she isn’t married and doesn’t have any kids, it has become her life. All she wants is for the Country Club to have amazing events. She’s a dear family friend. She’s even good friends with my mother, if you can imagine anyone pulling that off,” said Greer.
“What does that have to do with this weekend?” said Charlie. “Surely no one would notice if you weren’t there, would they?”
“Oh, but they would,” said Greer. “The Dice family doesn’t go out in force to events, ever. My mom might go, or one of my brothers, and every once in a while my dad, but we spread our influence out.”
“Your family doesn’t want one event to be able to claim the attendance of all the Dices?” I said.
“Right,” said Greer, looking embarrassed. “That hasn’t been a problem for the past couple of years, because I’ve refused to go to any events at all. But my brothers and my parents haven’t gone to an event together either.”
“Until this weekend,” I said.
“Yeah, so even if you two hadn’t wanted to go I probably would have gone, because Goldie is like an older sister to me. It’s important that we’re all there, and I wouldn’t want to let her down. She has a lot riding on the ball Saturday night,” explained Greer.
I couldn’t imagine having a lot riding on a ball. For that matter, I was pretty shocked that I was going to a ball at all.
Now I just needed the fancy gown.
“That’s nice of you,” said Charlie. “I’m sure Goldie will appreciate it.”
“She will,” said Greer, who looked happy for the first time since she’d agreed to this crazy scheme.
We had reached our destination, a shop called “Regal Regalia and Other Garments.”
“Is it closed?” Charlie asked, peering through the window.
“They don’t open until two on Thursday,” I said with disappointment.
“Why would your mom suggest going to a store that wasn’t open? She must have known,” said Charlie.
“They’re open by appointment outside normal hours. I’m sure my mother has made one,” said Greer.
Just as she finished speaking, a well-dressed woman wearing a large hat and black sunglasses appeared down the street, walking toward us. She passed several other people and didn’t come up higher than anyone’s else’s shoulder.
Greer spotted the woman and gave a weak wave.
“Hi, Mom,” said Greer when Mrs. Dice reached us. The woman gave Greer a quick peck on the cheek, leaving me with the impression that by her standards she had just shown a lot of affection.
“Hi, Mrs. Dice. Good to see you again,” said Charlie, reaching out to hug Greer’s mom. Mrs. Dice let her do it, but she looked shocked and only barely managed to lift her gloved hand to pat Charlie twice on the back.
“Oh, yes, Cher,” said Mrs. Dice.
“It’s Charlie,” said Greer, her jaw clenched in frustration.
Charlie pulled away quickly, but her smile never faltered.
Then Mrs. Dice turned to me. “Lemonia, good to see you,” her voice squeaked.
Greer looked like she was about to correct her mother again but I waved her off.
“You as well,” I said.
Greer looked a lot like her mother, only she was much taller, just like her brothers.
“Come along,” said Mrs. Dice. She walked up to the door, knocked, and pushed it open without waiting for an answer from inside. The lights were on and there was soft music playing, with just a hint of rose in the air.
“Good Morning, Mavis,” said Mrs. Dice.
“Good morning, Anita,” said a substantial woman who appeared out of the back of the shop.
Unlike Mrs. Dice, Mavis looked warm and comfortable. She was wearing a long skirt and a cardigan, and her gray hair was swept up off her neck without looking at all severe.
“Greer, my goodness, it’s been so long!” Mavis beamed at Greer, who smiled back. “Good to see you. I take it you’re looking for gowns for Saturday? Your custom is ready,” she said with a nod at Mrs. Dice, disappearing into the back again as she said it.
“If I had known you were coming when the rest of us decided to go, the family could have ordered something for you as well,” said Greer’s mom.
“I’ll find something to wear,” said Greer, not giving an inch.
Mrs. Dice looked distinctly displeased, but before she could say so Mavis had reappeared with a dress bag. She brought it up front and hung it off a rack, where it would wait until we’d picked three more.
“All my dresses are one of a kind. We’ve been a bit picked over, but I kept one back in case Greer decided to come in. You, dear, are so short that there might be a couple of options for you,” said Mavis to Charlie.
“There are advantages to being just this tall,” Charlie grinned.
“What dress do you have for Greer?” Mrs. Dice asked, suddenly full of curiosity.
“I’ll get it,” said Mavis, disappearing again. When she reappeared carrying another dress bag she said, “As soon as it arrived I knew Greer had to wear it. I figured if she didn’t come in I could always put it out on the floor, but I knew this was the hundredth anniversary of the Country Club and an important event for Goldie. I didn’t think Greer would miss it.”
“Trust me, she hasn’t c
ome out for anything less,” Mrs. Dice sniffed with displeasure.
Mavis knew better than to reply to that. Instead she hung the garment bag on the rack and swept the covering off in one practiced swoop.
There were three gasps. Mrs. Dice would never be surprised by a mere dress, but out of the corner of my eye I could see that even she was pleased.
“Isn’t it gorgeous? You have the figure for it,” Mavis said to Greer.
Greer spun, her cheeks were pink. This was the first time I had seen her look happy since we had first talked about the Country Club weekend. No doubt she was thinking of her boyfriend Deacon and how much he would like the dress too. Through the clear glass window I heard an appreciative whistle. Greer rolled her eyes and so did Mrs. Dice. They had the exact same notion about it.
Maybe this weekend wasn’t going to be so bad after all.
Chapter Seven
When we left the shop laden down with bags and boxes, Charlie and Greer had the most gorgeous dresses imaginable. Charlie had found something she truly loved, and Greer had a custom gown.
That left just one problem.
What about me?
“Are you sure there was nothing in there that you liked?” Greer asked for the tenth time, looking worried as we walked out of the shop.
“There was just nothing that spoke to me,” I said.
“What was it supposed to say?” Charlie asked.
“You know, ‘This is the dress for you and you’ll look gorgeous in it.’ Or something,” I muttered. “Every dress I tried on was beautiful, but there was something missing,” I explained, feeling guilty.
In my pocket I felt my wand. Briefly, I wondered if I should wave it and create a beautiful gown, but that felt too much like cheating.
We’d spent so long in the shop that even Mavis had started to look tired, but even after all that shopping time there was still a vague sense of unease in my belly. The Saturday night ball was the big shindig, the final finale, and I had yet to find something gorgeous to wear to that. I had the outlandish thought that maybe the Country Club could order me something, but even I knew that was pie in the sky.
“Don’t worry. We’ll figure something out,” said Charlie as she juggled the many bags she was carrying. “Maybe one of the vintage dresses we brought?”
They were very pretty dresses, but they didn’t hold a candle to Greer’s dress. Oh well, one of them would just have to do.
When Mrs. Dice saw the Beetle, she seemed tempted to say something about our mode of transportation to the fanciest club in the county, but luckily she thought better of it. We waved goodbye and said we’d see her later.
Paws had catnapped in the car while he waited for us. Delaying the introduction of the ghost to Mrs. Dice for as long as possible was our chosen strategy, and so far it had worked.
The Iriswood Country Club was down a back road’s back road, a setting intended to ensure the ultimate degree of privacy for the important people who frequented Greer’s family’s favorite retreat. For that reason, I had only ever seen pictures of the place, never the Club itself. Seeing the Club in person was impossible unless you had an invitation.
Greer had insisted on driving the Beetle out of Pennwood. Her mother had offered her a car, but in her habitual stubbornness Greer had just as succinctly declined.
As we drove, I half expected Meredith Munn to jump out from behind the bushes brandishing her wand, order me to stop, and threaten me with ghosts. Paws and my night of adventure had gotten to me, but I pulled myself together just in time for our arrival at the Club.
Greer parked the Beetle next to some super fancy cars, all of them polished to within an inch of their life.
“BMW . . . BMW . . . I don’t know why I’m bothering to see what kind of car each one is,” said Charlie in wonder. “The answer is always the same.”
“They’re nice cars,” said Greer stiffly. Even the beautiful dress hadn’t stopped her from being on edge after we’d seen her mother.
“I don’t see why you’re upset,” said Charlie. “Your mother was perfectly sweet to us the whole time.”
“It’s a trap,” said Greer with confidence. “She wants something. She’s reeling me in until I’m close enough for the strike.”
“You make it sound like your mother is some master negotiator spy or something,” Charlie said.
“I wouldn’t be at all surprised,” said Greer. “She was nice today, but that’s just to lull me into a false sense of security.”
“My mom bakes,” said Charlie, sitting back. “It’s far less complicated.”
The Maine coast was stunning, and it was to an exceptionally fine view of it that we stepped out of the car. The ocean positively sparkled.
As for the Club itself, the grounds were perfectly manicured, the grass a bright green that set off the sparkling blue of sky and water beyond. Each building looked like it had just received a fresh coat of white paint.
“Wow,” Charlie whispered. “Have you ever seen anything this fine?”
The signs of money were everywhere. No matter where I looked, everything about the Country Club spoke of refinement and expense.
“This way,” said Greer. A young guy had come bounding out of the main building as soon as the Beetle drove up. He was dressed all in white except for his boat shoes and he looked as dazzling as the buildings.
We all checked ourselves in the Beetle’s cracked mirror. Charlie was wearing a white skirt and blue polo while Greer had dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. I had originally put on a flowery top and my nicest slacks, but the slacks didn’t fit me well and I had changed five times before settling on a pair of white shorts that went nicely with the top.
“Afternoon,” said the young man, coming up to us with a smile that didn’t falter even when he looked at my beat-up old car.
“Hey, we’re here to check in,” said Greer.
“Right in through the doors on the right. If you’ll leave your keys with me I can bring your luggage in directly.”
My first instinct was to refuse to let Greer hand over my keys, but I quickly realized that I was being silly. If the young man in white was going to steal a car, it certainly wouldn’t be mine. Besides, even if he didn’t have access to a limitless supply of BMWs, he probably wouldn’t have accepted the Beetle as a gift. Let’s just say my old car wasn’t in the best condition.
“I’m Freddie,” said the guy, taking the keys. He looked to be around our age or maybe a couple of years younger, and very good-looking. I hoped he wouldn’t mind the pig snout key chain decoration. I’d had it since college and I intended to keep it for as long as I could.
Greer introduced all of us, and at the sound of Greer’s first name I saw Freddie give the most subtle of twitches. My friend hadn’t said her last name, but maybe she didn’t need to. The Dices were known far and wide as old money.
Freddie nodded toward the entrance, indicating that we should follow him inside.
“What about our stuff?” Charlie whispered as we walked.
“Don’t worry,” said Greer. “He’ll bring it in.”
“Will the car be okay?” Charlie asked.
“He’s going to park it, there’s no problem,” said Greer, her jaw set in a grim line.
Just as we got to the door another valet came tumbling out, this one nowhere near as polished as Freddie. Even his boat shoes were old and worn, and he had a goofy air that made me like him immediately.
“Press your collar, you fool,” Paws cried as we walked past. I had almost forgotten that the cat was with us; trust him to remind me at an awkward moment. Luckily for the new valet, he couldn’t hear the cat.
Freddie’s perfect smile slipped when he thought we weren’t looking, but I noticed out of the corner of my eye that the expression meant only for his coworker was quite nasty. It reminded me that even in the midst of wealth and comfort there might be crosscurrents that could lead to trouble. Then I told myself it wasn’t my problem, I was just here to have an enjoyable wee
kend.
The interior of the Club was cool and bright, the furniture dark and expensive-looking. Much like the outside, the inside looked thoroughly polished, as did everyone working there except the second valet, who had quickly scurried out of view.
“Good to see you again, Miss Dice,” said the concierge, an older man with swept-back, graying hair. He gave off an air of being in charge and commanding respect from everyone around him.
“Good to see you again, David,” said Greer, smiling. She had been tense as we approached the entrance to the Club, but she seemed genuinely glad to see David, and more relaxed once she had.
“You said three in one, right? You’d like to room together?” said David.
“Right, these will be the other two guests.” Greer’s hand took us in.
“Good to see you, Miss Hubb and Miss Silver,” he said.
Charlie and I murmured simple greetings, not knowing what else might be expected. It seemed to be enough.
“Your room is ready. Your parents are in their regular room, and many other guests have already arrived as well. I hope you don’t mind your accommodations. Enjoy the anniversary festivities,” said David, handing over three keys.
The valet who had nearly tripped coming out the door now appeared pushing a cart with our luggage; Freddie had apparently had enough seniority to hand over the task. The second guy nearly ran the cart into a sofa, then over-corrected so that it came within an inch of toppling over. All the employees behind the desk bristled. David was too well trained to look irritated, but he couldn’t entirely quell his frustration either.
The valet was sweating and he looked worried, but he managed to say, “Lead the way,” and Greer did.
Glancing out the doors, I could see that Freddie was occupied with more incoming guests, in particular three attractive women in what I guessed to be their thirties. No wonder he had to choose between which clients to help.
“What was he saying before about our room assignment?” Charlie asked Greer as we approached a bank of elevators edged in gold. “Why’d he go through that whole thing telling you how many guests there are?”
“The place is full this weekend,” said the valet, answering the question before Greer could get a word in. His hair was stuck to his forehead and his cheeks were red, and I was really starting to wonder what was going on with him.
Witch Way Round (Witch of Mintwood Book 6) Page 5
