Magic & Mini Skirts
Designer Witch Series
Beverly Sanders
Edited by
Valorie Clifton
Contents
Title
Untitled
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
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Beverly Sanders
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1
Not that I didn’t have a pretty strong sweet tooth before, but with the sheer amount of time Babbs and I were spending at The Cheesecake Factory lately, I was beginning to dream about sweets. Not that I cared too much. Sure, I’d prefer to hold tight to my diet and everything, but a girl’s gotta live, right?
“I know!” Babbs said, jabbing a fork into her slice of vanilla bean cheesecake. “That’s what I was trying to explain to him. But apparently, whistling at construction workers is no longer appropriate. Stupid politically correct world!”
“Why did you whistle at him?” Abben sked.
“He took his shirt off. What was I supposed to do, not whistle?”
“Maybe just try and not do it so loudly,” I said, a layer of sweet whipped cream gliding across my tongue.
“I don’t know what everyone is getting so fussy about. It wasn’t that loud!”
“It caused a three-car traffic accident,” I replied.
“Whatever. I’m gonna start a petition. If I can’t take my shirt off and jackhammer a street, then neither can anyone else!”
“Sounds like a plan.”
The store owner was scheduled to arrive at the shopping mall shortly. Phipps Plaza was one of Atlanta’s top shopping destinations, and I’d finally managed to squeeze my way in. Granted, it was just a small fifteen by fifteen-foot space in a store, but it would get my clothes seen by the masses. Not to mention, it’d turn a profit for Babbs and me. I mean, lunch at The Cheesecake Factory doesn’t come cheap after a few weeks . . .
Second Buckhead had become such a part of me. I’d worked so hard to get where I was in my career, not to mention accidentally becoming the face of a magical youth revolution. Enchanted Lake felt like a distant memory, but with the borders between the magical realm and the mortal one becoming blurrier by the day, I doubted it would be much longer before both places merged into one anyway.
“What time is she supposed to get here?” Kianna asked.
It was strange how I’d spent years in Enchanted Lake, my whole childhood and teenage life happening on the other side of those borders, and in all that time, I’d somehow missed connecting with the coolest girls in the world. Kianna, Abben, and Halloway made up the Haerewayh Coven. Officially, they were protectors of the Enchanted Lake Library. Unofficially, however, they were the most badass witches in any realm.
My connection with them was almost instant, and after everything we’d gone through, we couldn’t help but become friends. Not to mention the mysterious connection my best friend, Babbs, had with Kianna ever since those tattoos appeared on their arms. We’d yet to figure out what it actually meant, but one thing we knew was that it seemed to make their magic stronger, which for Babbs was especially exciting since she was technically a mortal.
“She should be here in about twenty minutes,” I said.
“And what is it that you guys are doing today?” Abben asked.
“We’re just looking over the space. She said I was in charge of the layout and anything that goes in it. Kind of like the way MAC does those popup stores in bigger department stores. Only it’ll be our fashion line instead of mascara and lipstick.”
“Oh!” Babbs said. “That reminds me. I need some eyeshadow. Let’s not forget to stop by there on the way out.”
“Sure thing.”
I guess I’d always known it. I guess every girl does, really. But since leaving Enchanted Lake behind and moving into the mortal realm, I’d really gotten to understand just how important good friends were. Babbs McGhee was about the best friend any girl, witch or otherwise, could ask for. She was loyal, courageous, strong, and so funny I’d often considered wearing a diaper on our nights out. That probably wouldn’t look too sexy in a black lace dress, though, would it?
“Babbs,” Kianna said. “Look. That guy . . . he’s smiling at you.”
“What?” Babbs asked, spinning like a top. “Where?”
“Right there.” Kianna pointed.
Near the bar stood a pretty hot guy with sandy blond hair, blue eyes, and a sweet smile. His bright blue eyes were focused on Babbs, locked tightly to her face. A light blue Polo shirt clung to his muscular chest, hanging over him better than it ever had on any mannequin. He wore dark-wash jeans and a simple pair of brown loafers. He was hot, to say the least.
“Go talk to him,” I said, nudging my elbow against her.
“No.” She turned to me. “This is a girls’ lunch.”
“Babbs!” I smiled. “He’s hella cute. Go!”
“You think?” she asked. “I mean, it’s really early in the day to give someone such a thrill.”
“A thrill?” Abben asked, trying her hardest to hold back a grin.
“Yeah,” Babbs enthused, clutching her chest. “Talking to me . . . getting a look at the girls here. It’s quite thrilling!”
“I hadn’t noticed.” Abben nudged my knee with hers.
“Just go,” I said.
“All right!” She stood.
It was like watching one of the National Geographic shows, the ones where a lion circles its prey in ever smaller circles. Babbs made her way closer, pretending to speak to people she didn’t even know while all the while keeping her eyes focused on the guy. She batted her eyelashes and used way too much hip when she moved, but she kept his attention and you can’t fault a girl for that, right?
“Look at her,” Kianna said. “She’s so animated. It’s like a game.”
“That’s Babbs,” I said. “She doesn’t really hold back.”
Kianna and Babbs had a near-instant connection, and in certain lights, they even looked pretty similar. As a general rule, no one knew much about the Haerewayh Coven, which as you might imagine made figuring out the science or magic behind that connection nearly impossible. At least, for the moment. Something told me Kianna was working on a way around it. She just hadn’t told Babbs or the rest of her coven yet.
“Shh,” Kianna said. “I wanna listen in.”
The four of us sat perched at our small high-top table near the bar. Usually, I’d have preferred a booth, but Babbs always loved being near the bar, saying it just felt more alive. I guess now, I was seeing what she meant by that. I grabbed my fork, sticking it into my cheesecake as I listened to my best friend give that guy some grade-A flirting.
“Hey,” she said, her voice low and coy. “My friends noticed you were looking at me.”
“I saw no need in keeping it a secret.” He smiled back, his bright white smile catchi
ng the sunlight as it shone through the large windows across the bar.
“Ahh.” Babbs widened her eyes. “Straightforward. I like it.”
“Thank you.”
“So . . .” she said. “Tell me why you’re worth my time.”
“Wow.” A look of gleeful surprise washed over him. “That’s confidence right there. I have to say . . . I’m a fan.”
“You’ve gotta do a little better than just a fanboy.”
“How about because I think you’re beautiful?” He stepped closer to her. “Because I think of all the girls at that table, you’re the most unique.”
“Well, obviously, you’re correct.” Babbs waved her hand. “Though I fail to see how you can know that from across a room.”
“Your laugh. I heard it almost as soon as I walked in. Not to mention your confidence. I like brave girls.”
“Brave?” She raised an eyebrow.
This was getting interesting . . .
“I saw you eating that cheesecake. You can tell a lot about a person by the way they eat.” He leaned in, his eyes transfixed on hers. “Just look at your friend, the one with the red sneakers and the oversized purse.”
“Is he talking about me?” Halloway asked, her eyes narrowing.
“Shh,” I said. “I wanna hear this.”
“She, just like everyone else at that table, takes small bites, making sure to space them out. They may not know it, but they’re doing it on purpose. It’s cautionary. You, on the other hand,” he continued, “Your first bite was bigger than three of theirs combined. You go after what you want. So do I.”
At that point, the girls and I thought it best to stop listening in on our friend, deciding instead to go back to our regular conversation. It was a simple thing, but it was something I enjoyed more than I really knew how to articulate, just a simple conversation about nothing much with my best girls. Aside from sewing and designing, it was probably my favorite way to spend the day.
“So?” Abben asked. “Have you been working on any new magic?”
“No,” I sighed. “I’ve been busy sewing.”
Don’t misunderstand me here. I know I’m a born and bred witch. But that was never my dream. It’s great sometimes, sure, but the idea of magic, spells, and hexes just wasn’t what got my blood pumping. It never had. I’d always wanted something else, something that I built, something that was just mine. I wanted fashion. I wanted design. I wanted my contribution to be remembered.
Magic doesn’t work that way. Magic is old. Like . . . super old. That stuff has been handed down for generation after generation. The spells, the incantations . . . they all belonged to someone else, not me.
I don’t want to sound like I’m putting witches down or anything. That’s not the case at all. I’d found myself in Enchanted Lake. I’d grown there, become the woman I was now there, and I’d and found my passion there. I was thankful for that. I always would be. I guess I just never saw the harm in wanting something more, something different. I wanted to use my hands and to see what came of hard work and determination.
“Right . . .” Abben said, her voice deflating a little.
It wasn’t that she disapproved of my choices. Not at all. She was one of my biggest supporters. It’s just that when it came down to brass tacks, she didn’t understand why I couldn’t find a balance. I guess it’s a fair question, though, and maybe she’s right. Maybe I was leaning into the mortal side of things a little too hard. After all, I was a witch for life, no matter what.
“Let’s do some casting tonight.” I turned to her. “We’ll go to the top of the apartment building. With the borders of the magical realm and the mortal one so blurred these days, you can see right into Enchanted Lake if you know where to look.”
She smiled. “Sounds awesome.”
“Well!” Babbs said. “I got myself a date for the night! He’s hot, right?”
“Hot?” Kianna asked. “I’m surprised that barstool didn’t melt right out from under him.”
“And I mean . . . how lucky can you get? Not only did he get to watch four hotties eat cheesecake, but he scored a date with one of them.” Babbs turned back, giving the guy a little wink. “I’m actually a little bit jealous.”
“Well.” I grabbed the white napkin, running it across the edges of my mouth, then gulped one last sip of my mimosa. “Hannah should be getting there right about now. Let’s go meet up with her.”
“Cool,” Babbs said, looking back to Abben, Halloway, and Kianna. “See you girls later.”
“Hey.” I looked at Abben. “Don’t forget. Tonight. The roof.”
“You got it, babe,” she replied.
2
“Well, hello,” Hannah Alden, the store owner, said. “Nice to finally meet you.”
“You too.” I smiled. “What a great space!”
Buckhead Luxe was Atlanta’s newest shopping experience, with two floors of stores featuring some of the best names in fashion. Hannah, being a close friend of the mall’s designer, was granted a small store near the restaurant area. She wasn’t a designer or anything, but she was a huge fan of fashion and designer clothing, something that become all the more evident the second I saw her.
“You look fabulous!” I said. “I love those pants!”
“Thank you.” She smiled. “I got them at a little store in the Spanish Square a few months ago when I was in Rome. Aren’t they great?”
The pants were made of an expertly cut brocaded white velvet. Not only were they completely original in design, but they fit her like a glove. Take a few steps back and you’d have sworn they were poured onto her.
“I love that skirt too. Where did you buy it?” Hannah asked Babbs.
“I made it, actually.” Babbs smiled, then removed it to reveal figure-hugging black leggings underneath. “Here, take it.”
“No.” Hannah held out her hand. “I couldn’t.”
“I insist!” Babbs placed the skirt in her hands.
Babbs had made the garment a few weeks before to wear out on a girls’ night. She’d seen some tattered silver leather while we were out shopping for our new collection. There wasn’t much of it left, but Babbs knew she could put it to use. A few open zippers and a paint splash later, she’d managed to create a pretty killer one-of-a-kind motorcycle skirt.
Giving it away didn’t bother her, though. I knew that. As a designer, it’s always better to see your work on someone else rather than wear it yourself. Somehow, that just seems selfish. And wouldn’t you know, it paired perfectly with the white velvet pants.
“Looks good on you,” I said to Hannah.
“Thank you. You didn’t have to do that,” she replied, walking over to a spot near the front window. “I was thinking of putting your area right here. That way, you’ll get good exposure. Your clothes are so eye-catching and everything that it’ll likely drive a lot of foot traffic.”
“This looks great.”
“There seems to have been an influx of youth in Buckhead lately. I even overheard someone referring to something called Second Buckhead the other day.”
“Really?” I replied. “That’s new. Though I had noticed all the new people who seemed to be moving here. It’s kind of nice, actually. I myself have only been here a short time.”
“Really?” she asked. “Where did you come from?”
“A little town,” I replied, unable to give her the truth of my magical roots. “I doubt you’d have heard of it.”
“Same here.” She smiled. “Middle of nowhere.”
The shopping mall wasn’t open just yet, but from the looks of things, it wouldn’t be long. A few more coats of paint, a chandelier, and a little background music, and this place would really be something to look at. To say I was excited would be an understatement. I’d worked hard on my designs and it was finally starting to pay off.
“I just wanted to thank you for the opportunity,” I said. “It means a lot to me.”
“It means a lot to me too,” she replied. “Hopefu
lly, it’ll mean a little extra cash too. That’s always nice.”
“You got that right!” Babbs chirped from across the room. “What’s up with this fountain?”
“I don’t know . . .” she replied. “I just thought it would be nice to have one in the store. There are a lot of fountains in this place, actually. It’s a theme they’re going for.”
“Water inspires people.” A man turned the corner. He looked to be in his late fifties, with salt and pepper hair and a perfectly trimmed beard. He wore an obviously expensive suit paired with a gorgeous pair of Italian leather shoes. He had style, that was evident. “Unlike this youthful fashion your brand creates.”
Apparently, he was also an ass.
“Fashion is lost on today’s generation. It’s all about the perfect photo. It’s all forgettable. People want flash over substance. It’s sickening.”
“This is my partner,” Hannah sighed. “Edward Tide.”
There was an air of disgust in both his tone and the way he carried himself. For a moment, I thought it was only directed at Babbs and me, but the more he spoke, the more I realized he wasn’t happy with Hannah either. The idea that my brand would occupy a space in something he had partial ownership over seemed to upset him to no end.
“The space is . . . practical.” He sighed. “I’ll be continuing my tour, should you need me.” He looked at Hannah.
“Sweet!” Babbs replied, giving him the most dismissive wave possible while keeping her eyes glued to Hannah. “So . . . you’re not a designer, right?”
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