Page 20 of Pushing Daisy

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Daisy rolls her eyes in frustration. “Of course. Thank you for checking,” she responds tightly.

Flo gives Daisy and Sloan their key cards and directions to their room. “We reserved our best room for you. The deluxe honeymoon suite—” she explains before seeing the looks on their faces. “But it’s just a room category, not that I think you’re together,” she stammers, an embarrassed flush dusting her cheeks. Of fucking course.

They walk to the elevator in silence. An awkward shuffle occurs between them as they both try to push the call button, leading to Sloan raising her hands in defeat and stepping back, allowing Daisy to take the lead. Daisy leans against the back wall of the elevator, arms crossed, and her right foot taps-tap-taps on the tile floor as they take their short journey up to the third floor.

Taking peeks at Sloan’s reflection in the mirrored doors, she notices how at ease she appears. Sloan looks as if she spent the day at the spa, and there is not a thing in the world that could ruffle her feathers. The audacity of this witch. She barges in on Daisy’s luxury weekend with her pretty princess attitude and a glowing complexion, thinking she can do whatever she wants. Well, that’s not going to work for Daisy. Not at all. This was a weekend Daisy was supposed to have with her best friend. She had been looking forward to that time together.

The elevator dings and Daisy steps out, Sloan following closely behind. Their room is at the end of the hall, and as they approach, Daisy feels her insides twist. She can’t do this. She can’t spend a weekend with her. She won’t. “Look, I think it would be better if you left. I can fill you in on whatever I find out over the weekend.”

“Yeah, we’ve tried that already.”

“Tried what?” Daisy asks, swiping the card through the reader on the door.

“Tried the whole ‘I’ll let you know’ thing. You seem to prefer to avoid me. So, no. I’m not going anywhere.”

Daisy opens the door and stands in the entryway, facing Sloan. Planting her feet and crossing her arms across her chest, Daisy glares at her. “You are not stepping foot into this room. We will kill each other if we try to do this. Go home.”

“I promise to play nice if you do,” Sloan practically purrs before booping Daisy’s nose. The slight touch sends a spark down to her core, which she does her best to ignore, not wanting to unpack whatever that could mean.

“Did you just boop me?”

“Yep.”

Daisy shakes her head, clearing her thoughts and pushing away the lingering sensation from Sloan’s touch. “Why? Why do you want to stay here so bad? What do you get out of this… arrangement and working with me?” she asks, her posture softening slightly as her shoulders relax and her hip cocks to the side, giving more attitude than outright defiance.

“I need this. I need something for me. I need to feel useful in a way that isn’t because I have a certain last name. I want to succeed on my own merits, and for that to happen, I, unfortunately, need you to cooperate. Perhaps this weekend can show us that we could be beneficial to each other.”

Her response feels infuriatingly honest as if she is speaking from a place of pain. Of longing. Perhaps everything is not as rosy as it seems in the Wilks household.

Daisy remains standing in the doorway for a long moment, willing herself to say no. To tell her to go away again. But Daisy begrudgingly recognizes that if she wants to show the council she can help others, she must start here. If she can help someone she hates and who has caused her harm, she would have no problem helping anyone else. A flash of magic sparks at her fingertips, bubbling with excitement at the challenge before her. Daisy curls her hands into fists, attempting to hide the sparks, but catches Sloan’s curious eyes. Shit. Yes, that’s exactly what this is. A test. This weekend is a test for her to show her value to the council. Little did they know, she was always great at taking tests.

“Fine,” Daisy relents, trying hard to hide the electric current. Uncrossing her arms, she steps aside, making room for Sloan to enter, but not before noticing the soft smile she wears and the faint scent of freshly baked cookies as she walks past.

Closing the door behind her, Daisy walks over and tosses her bag on the bench at the end of the bed. “I want to be clear that this doesn’t mean I like you.”

“Ditto.”

Daisy smirks quickly, then coughs to hide it as Sloan picks up a note on the desk. “It looks like we are booked for a couples’ massage to start the evening.”

“Wonderful. Can’t wait to get rubbed down with you. I’m sure that will be super relaxing,” Daisy replies dryly.

“I think it will be good for you.”

“Why?”

Sloan turns, placing the paper back on the desk. “Because it appears you have a wand up your ass, and you could use some help to dislodge it.”

“And you only wish you were the one to do it,” Daisy retorts, then heads into the bathroom, shutting the door loudly behind her.

Sloan cackles on the other side of the door. Actually cackles.

“This is going to be a long weekend,” Daisy says to herself.

CHAPTER 12

Sloan

With Daisy in the bathroom trying to hide from her, Sloan takes advantage of the quiet and unpacks her bag into a dresser on the far side of the room. While the company may not be ideal, she has to admit that the room is gorgeous. The pale blue walls are welcoming. The oversized bed is full of pillows and looks as plush as a cloud, and the white linens are crisp and inviting. She resists the urge to flop down, figuring Daisy would lose her shit over her even touching the bed. She moves to the large bay window and gazes out at the lake, watching various people walk along the shore. In the summer, this beach would be loaded with people swimming, paddle boarding, and sunbathing. But with the cooler weather of fall, the action has died down, and it’s more peaceful. She watches a couple walk along the shore, skipping rocks into the water as they move along. As she watches, she wonders how they came to be together and if they ever feel lonely.