by Ashley McLeo
Good thing I negotiated a higher salary to eventually get my dream apartment.
She smirked recalling her boss, Tom’s, reaction when she’d requested double the salary he’d offered her. At home she would have felt bad for manipulating her boss, but not here. She’d wavered on the apartment for the time being but she wasn’t willing to do the same with her salary. Not when it was clear a healthy salary would be just the thing to catapult Selma in to a life she dreamed of. A life she’d left her family and crossed an ocean for. One manipulation of her hormones and gentle caresses of Tom’s arm and Tom agreed to her request.
Selma stripped off her pajamas and slipped on a hip-hugging pencil skirt. She’d purchased it, a silk blouse and her new favorite pumps with one of her first inflated paychecks. Unfortunately, she’d had to draw the line there to account for other expenses and home goods she required. A boring, but necessary consequence of living on her own for the first time. But today, she got paid again, and she already had plans for her paycheck.
She’d been lusting after the silk Prada gown since her coworker and new friend Abby told her about the Faerie Fall Ball, an outrageously upscale soiree with a reputation as the best party in the city. And as luck would have it, Selma already owned a silk flower crown that complimented the rich brown gown. Her eyes grazed over the silk floral headdress, reminiscent of the hairpieces flamenco dancers wore in Spain. Imagining the gown and the headdress together, it was like it was meant to be. Much like the promise of the ball itself, which seemed too good to be true. Certainly, too expensive. In fact, when Selma had asked Abby how she’d managed to get tickets Abby had burst out laughing.
“Who says we have tickets!” Abby had exclaimed once she’d regained control of herself. “An old friend of mine is running the kitchen for the event. He said for one hundred bucks each he’d smuggle a few extra people in. We just can’t eat any of the food because they figure out how much to cook by the tickets sold. Don’t sit at any of the tables either, unless you’re asked to join someone.”
Even now, a pleasurable flutter rose in Selma’s stomach at the idea of someone asking her to join them. She’d be pleased simply to attend the ball and strengthen networking ties, though she had to admit the idea of a Faerie Fall Ball had her considering more romantic notions. It’d been a long time since she’d hoped to meet a man who would sweep her off her feet. She’d stopped dating a decade earlier, after her last relationship left her empty. But this was a new city, a new world, and what could be more magical than a Faerie Fall Ball? Perhaps her dry streak would end tonight.
An hour later Selma was purchasing a croissant at the bakery down the street from her office when a voice called her name.
“Selma!”
She turned to see Abby, black haired, green eyed and vivacious, strutting toward her.
“Hola, Abby! Care to walk to work together?”
“Don’t you mean run? We’re late,” Abby said, striding passed Selma.
Selma glanced at her watch and groaned. “Tom will be upset with me again.”
Abby rolled her eyes. “Once you bat those long lashes eyes at him, I’m sure he’ll forget all about it. I’ve never seen Tom so lenient with anyone. I swear without you calming him down after I lost the Fitzsimmon’s account I’d be on unemployment. He must really have the hots for you.”
Selma blushed. Abby didn’t know that Selma had placated Tom with her magic because she couldn’t bear hearing him scream at Abby. She simply thought Selma had talked Tom out of his fury, but that was hardly a surprise. Abby, while fun to hang around, was also so self-absorbed she rarely noticed anything having to do with others, especially if her butt was on the line.
They burst through the office doors and caught the elevator in record time. Chatter of the ball and the body painting Abby’s friend Kayla had promised to apply on them flowed between the women the entire ride up.
“She says it will make us look more whimsical. I’ve seen it before, it’s kind of like henna, which won’t go with my dress, but should look ah-may-zing with the dress you chose. Did you pick that up yet?” Abby lifted an eyebrow in question.
“I will at lunch.”
“Oh my God. I hope they still have it. You should ask Tom if you can take an early lunch. If you explain what it looks like he’ll say yes. As long as you model it for him.” She imitated Selma wiggling seductively and Tom’s mouth dropping open in response.
“I do not look like that!” Selma scowled.
“No, but Tom sure as hell does. Finally!” The elevator doors opened. “I’ll see you later. We’re still getting ready at your place, right? Mine’s too small.”
Selma liked to keep her space in the city private but Abby was right, the closet sized apartment Abby shared with three other girls was far too small.
“Si, I’ll see you then.”
“You are such a babe,” Abby said and tore off.
She tiptoed to her cubicle, hoping to avoid Tom at all costs.
Turning on her computer Selma glanced at the stack of papers that had been placed on her desk during the hours which she’d been home and sleeping. She shook her head, wondering how a company could produce so much data overnight. She sighed and picked up the first page with disdain. Data entry wasn’t the most glamorous job, but it was temporary, a stepping stone.
Soon, I’ll have a life bursting with glamour. A fashion line of my own. Oh! Perhaps I’ll take a glass blowing class. Just the thought of brightly colored bubbles of blown glass made her lips turned up. Whatever I do, it will be exactly what I want.
“Si, exactly what I want.” Selma took a victorious bite of croissant before placing her fingers on the keyboard and punching numbers in to a never-ending spreadsheet.
Faerie Making
“Si?” Selma asked in to the graying alarm phone that hung by her apartment door. Her mamá would die if she knew her daughter answered her callers with such a contraption. Selma had to admit, she too, found it odd that she could not open her front door to greet guests. It was completely impersonal, but it made sense when placed in the lifestyle city-dwellers chose.
“You’re in America now! Answer hello!” Abby demanded through the speaker.
“I forget. Come on up.” Selma pressed the button that unlocked the front door.
Abby’s hair, the color of a raven’s wing, appeared at the top of the stairs a minute later, followed by Kayla’s bright blonde locks. Selma had met Kayla through Abby and the three started meeting for drinks and gossip. While their relationships were more superficial than those Selma was used to, she clung to them. It had been harder to make friends in the city than she’d thought it would be.
“How do you always look so damn perfect?” Kayla asked hopping up the last step and eyeing Selma with envy. “It must be your skin. I should start tanning.”
“You are beautiful the way you are,” Selma replied, hoping to deter the girl from baking her pale skin to leather. “Come in, I made us some snacks.”
Kayla unpacked an assortment of makeup and body paint, while Abby started on the the charcuterie board Selma had set out.
“Did you get that dress?” Abby asked stuffing a bit of Spanish jamón serrano in her mouth and pulling the protective plastic off the emerald green Gucci dress she’d begged her roommate to borrow.
“That will be amazing with your eyes,” Selma complimented, taking in the rich color of Abby’s dress. “And yes, Tom let me take a long lunch.”
After I enchanted him, I must be more prudent in the future. I don’t want him in my thrall.
“Shocker. Did he ask you to model it?” Abby scrunched up her nose.
“Ew, my boss is like that too,” Kayla piped up and stuck out her tongue before Selma could answer. She brought a pot of crimson body paint close to her face, examining it thoroughly before setting it down and picking up another to do the same. “Anyways, Selma, I’d like to do some henna-like art on you tonight. Abby told me about your dress so I thought I’d make it flowy and na
tural. Is it cool if I put a photo of it in my portfolio?”
“That’s fine with me,” Selma said, grateful not to be discussing Tom any longer. “I’ll pour the champagne while you prepare your paints.”
“Girl, you know just what I need!” Abby sat down to plug in her hair straightener. “Fill mine to the top! Today was so boring. All I could think about was this party. God, I hope I meet a man who sweeps me off my feet and flies me to Paris so I don’t have to go to that hell hole tomorrow.”
Selma stared, lips parted in awe, at her reflection in the mirror on the back of her bedroom door. Soft brown flowers, leaves, and swooping lines crawled from her fingertips all the way to her high cheekbones.
“Thank you so much, Kayla,” Selma breathed, reentering the living room
“No problem,” Kayla answered. “Thanks for letting me use you as a model in my portfolio. Adding your flower headdress was a good call. It made my work look even more pro. Maybe I’ll get a few makeup gigs out of this. And remember, if anyone asks at the party—”
“We know, we know, send them your way. Let’s be honest, I’m not interested in talking to many other women. Not when we’re going to be partying with the hottest, richest bachelors in the city.” Abby winked. The bluish-green face paint shimmered, adding to the otherworldly aura of the plastic, elfin ear tips she wore.
“We look incredible.” Selma eyed Kayla’s leg peeking out from the slit in her dress. Scales, in a kaleidoscope of colors, trailed down Kayla’s thighs and lower legs while gills curved on her graceful neck. Selma giggled, and the girls stopped applying their lipstick to stare at her, coiffed eyebrows raised. “A mermaid, a forest fairy, and an elf walk into a ball. Where this joke will end I have no idea, but it’s off to a whimsical beginning.”
“I say we finish this bottle and find out.” Abby held up their second bottle of champagne, filled their glasses and knocked hers back in one slug.
Selma’s legs wobbled a bit as she stepped out of the cab onto the sidewalk. Her head spun as she took in the tall skyscrapers surrounding her. That third glass of champagne had been a bad idea. She started toward the entrance, obvious by the bushes laden with fairy lights flanking the red carpet.
“Selma! Where are you going?” Abby hissed. “Our door is through there. You guys brought cash, right?”
Selma shook her head at her own ridiculousness. “Sorry, the champagne is making my brain fuzzy.”
Abby rolled her eyes. She’d become uptight since leaving the apartment, glancing in the mirror every few seconds and musing over which wealthy bachelors would be there. “I thought Spaniards could hold their alcohol better. Just try to hold it together until we get in. I doubt my contact will want to be caught smuggling three wasted girls in to the biggest social event of the year.” Abby strutted off toward an alley.
The exchange for entry was simple. Three crisp one-hundred dollar bills for a dash through the kitchen to enter into a hallway near the bathroom. Abby’s contact pointed them toward the ballroom. “Remember, no sitting at any of the tables. Your entrance did not pay for a seat or food. Luckily dinner is over so everyone will be dancing and milling about the rest of the night,” the man said with a thick New Yorker accent before urging them toward the party.
The air was redolent with pine and jasmine. Undoubtedly sprayed after dinner to provide party-goers with the impression they were in an actual magical forest. A string quartet played upbeat, whimsical songs. Two women rushed by in a fit of giggles, their gowns of lilac and white whipping around their legs. The trio reached the end of the hall which opened onto a staircase overlooking the ballroom. Selma’s mouth dropped open.
Women dressed in glittering gem-toned gowns and real feathered wings dotted the dance floor. A few men wore horns atop their heads while others went for a more radical effect, donning silk suits in every color imaginable and glittering crowns. The ballroom was a masterpiece. Lifelike trees grew alongside the windows, while vines decorated with stuffed birds drooped from tree to tree and tangled with strings of lights dripping off every branch. Tapestries depicting unicorns and ethereal forests hung on the outskirts of the room, providing a themed backdrop to the large Romanesque amphoras bartenders served wine from.
“They flew the amphoras in from some legendary Italian vineyard,” Abby said, her voice smug at having gained entrance to such an event.
“It’s so magical,” Kayla whispered, staring down at the dance floor and the people on it.
“Obviously,” Abby said. “That’s why they can charge a grand a head for the shitty seats. Seriously you guys, pick your jaws up off the ground. Let’s get down there and mingle.”
The Faerie Fall Ball
“Here.” Abby shoved a glass of red wine into Selma’s hand. “When in doubt, lean against a wall looking all sexy and sipping red wine. A hot man is sure to approach you.” Her eyes skirted the silk clinging to Selma’s curves. “Especially you. I mean shit, if I didn’t know better I’d think you were a legit faerie queen.”
Kayla assessed the room. “Stay together or split up?”
“Are you kidding me?” Abby rolled her eyes as if Kayla was the stupidest person alive. “Split up. No one will look twice at us with Selma around. And I’m on the prowl tonight, ladies!”
“Good point. I’ll take the bar side,” Kayla waggled her brows.
“Fine, you lush. I’ll take the middle. Selma, that means you get the window side. Meet back here in an hour to update.” With that Abby sauntered off.
“Don’t worry I’ll allow you both free passes into my territory for bar use, but for now you have to move. I see a cute goat man I’m calling dibs on.” Kayla giggled and walked toward a blond man who could be mistaken for a model wearing goat horns.
As if I’ll need another drink soon, Selma thought, her legs tingling as she walked. She ditched her wine on a table and plucked a crystal glass of water off a tray a server was carrying around.
If Selma had been impressed by her bird's-eye-view of the party it was nothing to how she felt now, engulfed in crushing waves of people dressed to the nines and elaborately costumed. She even stopped to gawk at a woman wearing a diamond encrusted unicorn horn protruding from her forehead. The creativity of the party goers was astounding.
“It’s amazing isn’t it? I thought it was some sort of large, three dimensional bindi from far away and was a little irritated. When I got closer all I could do was stare.”
Selma turned to find a gorgeous Indian woman behind her, dancing to the music.
“Amazing,” Selma agreed.
“I’m Shefali,” the woman said, her amethyst colored sari swaying with her body as she moved closer.
“I’m Selma. Your costume is lovely as well, but what are you supposed to be?” Selma said, tilting her head down at the blue henna climbing up Shefali’s arms.
Shefali shrugged. “Just something I threw together. Let's be honest, I’m only here for a little fun. Maybe to meet a hot man. Same thing you’re here for, I think?”
Selma pursed her lips and Shefali laughed. “Sorry! Maybe I’m projecting. Please forgive me, my big mouth gets me into trouble all the time. Anyway, I’m Parvati. Hindu goddess of fertility, love, divine strength, and power.” Shefali brought her other arm, covered in blood red henna, out of hiding. “They’re colored to symbolize the lotuses she holds. I considered dressing as Ganesha but didn’t dig having an elephant trunk attached to my face all night. Could you imagine lugging it around? That would be terrible to dance with.”
Selma laughed and the women shook hands.
Shefali sucked in a breath. “I thought so.”
“Pardon me?” Selma tried to pull her hand away, but Shefali’s grip tightened around it.
“You’re a siren. I saw you walk in and knew you weren’t totally human. I guessed a witch, but I’d never seen you around the city and my coven is well connected. You’re powerful. Where are you from?”
A blush rose in Selma’s face. “I moved recently from Men
orca, Spain. I haven’t met anyone in the supernatural community yet. Or I guess I should say, I haven’t put myself out there.”
“Wait, Menorca? There’s a prominent family of sirens on that island, isn’t there? The sirens descended from those Homer referred to in his Odyssey? They’re supposed to be very strong.” Shefali paused for a moment and a smile quirked on her lips. “Rumor has it one of them and a McKay witch, I’m sure you’ve heard of that family, ran a little Spanish town ragged last summer.”
News of Mary and my escapades reached New York! Dios mio! Ay, may as well get this over with. Perhaps if I ask, Shefali will keep quiet about my move to New York until I arrange a meeting with her coven. She seems cool enough.
“Yes,” Selma winked conspiratorially. “The de Avila’s, my family. I’m the first to move off the island in many generations. The witch you’re talking about is a good friend of mine, Mary McKay. That weekend was a little bit of —how do you say? Sowing our oats?” She stopped as Shefali burst into musical peals of laughter. Selma leaned in once the witch quieted once more. “Would you mind keeping that to yourself? I know I’ve waited longer than normal to introduce myself, but—”
“You wanted to be anonymous for a while,” Shefali finished for her. “Don’t worry about it. If I came from a family with as much history as yours I’d want the same. I’m sure everyone always wants to talk to you. My lips are sealed. But when you start making the rounds, if you could come around to The Sisters of Salem house first, that’s my coven, it would be pretty cool.”
“It’s a deal. In fact, Mary will be here visiting in a couple weeks. We’ll both stop by.”
Shefali’s face brightened. “Great! Now, heads up, I see my coven high priest coming my way, so if you want to stay anonymous you better scoot.” Shefali nodded toward a regal looking man who’s ebony skin seemed to glow beneath his luminous gold and turquoise robe.