Once Upon Stilettos

Page 65

Sunday passed in blissful peace. If any magical folk were about, they must have stayed out of sight, for Mom didn’t comment on anything odd—or maybe she’d learned not to say anything when she thought she saw something. Although my stress levels were sure to drop considerably once they were gone, my heart was heavy when I stopped by my parents’ hotel Monday morning to say good-bye.
“I’m so glad you came,” I said, hugging them one last time. And I was, I realized. As much as I’d dreaded their visit, I dreaded seeing them go.
“We had a real nice time,” Mom said, blinking back her own tears. “I can see why you like it here.”
“So you’re not going to drag me home?”
“Is that what you thought?” Dad asked with a chuckle.
“I knew you weren’t happy about me coming here.”
“You had to do what was right for you,” Mom said. “And now we know it was coming here. You’ve grown up so much.”
“And now that we’ve seen it,” Dad added, “it doesn’t seem like such a bad place. You know how to take care of yourself.”
“It is really weird, though,” Mom said. “No one’s going to believe the things I’ve seen.”
“I don’t believe the things you’ve seen,” Dad muttered. Mom punched him playfully in the shoulder.
“I have to get to work,” I said, cutting in before they could start fighting. “Are you sure you’re okay getting to the airport on your own?”
“We’ll be fine,” Dad said. “We made a shuttle reservation at the front desk.”
I nodded with approval. “Good. They’ll get you there on time. Give me a call and let me know when you get in, okay?”
I waved over my shoulder as I turned and headed down the sidewalk toward Union Square. The hotel was past my apartment, so I hoped Owen wasn’t waiting for me in front of my building like he usually was. It turned out I shouldn’t have worried. He was waiting at the next street corner, as if he’d read my mind or already knew where I’d be. Then again, this was Owen I was dealing with, so he probably did know.
“Did you have a good visit with your parents?” he asked. “It doesn’t look like they’re forcing you to go home.”
“It did go well. Now that they know the city isn’t quite the crazy place they thought it was, and now that they’ve seen how I can cope with it, they feel better about me living here.” With my parents on their way out of town, I felt it was probably safe to spill the beans about my mom’s immunity, and if I could trust anyone, I could trust Owen. I was curious to find out what he thought about it. I glanced around to make sure no one was in eavesdropping range, then said, “One crazy thing, though—my mom’s an immune. I had to do some fast talking to explain what she saw, and now she believes there are some truly strange people living here.”
I expected surprise or shock, but he simply nodded. “That makes sense. It’s an inherited trait, so chances are you got it from at least one of your parents, and living in a place like Texas with such a low level of magical activity, she could have gone through her entire life without seeing anything magical.”
“And the way my mom is, even if she did see something, my dad would have just thought she was being loopy, as usual. Come to think of it, this explains a lot about my family. But please don’t tell anyone at the company. I don’t want to see her shanghaied into working for us.”
He laughed. “Is that what you were afraid of? Don’t worry, we generally don’t recruit anyone that age. If she’s lived her entire life ignorant of magic, breaking the news at this point may be too traumatic.”
“That’s a relief. I know how desperately you’re always trying to recruit immunes.”
“As desperate as we are, we’re still very selective about who gets let in on the secret.” He suddenly looked worried. “She didn’t figure anything out, did she?”
“No. She just thinks there are more strange alternative lifestyles in New York than she’d realized. My dad may think she’s a bit crazy, but he’s always thought that. Oh, and she thinks Idris is a drunk.”
“That would explain a lot,” he replied with a grin. Then he suddenly looked concerned. “Idris was bothering your parents?”
“Just a little mustache twirling. He didn’t actually do much of anything other than play pranks. And who knew he was such a big fan of old-time musicals?”