Page 25 of Pushing Daisy
Silence settles over the table once again as they peruse the menu. Sloan opens her mouth to say something a couple of times but seems to stop herself. The moment between them seems to have passed, and a feeling of discomfort sits in Daisy’s chest as she wonders what she can do to get it back. Or if she even wants it back.
The waitress arrives, takes their order, and then disappears, leaving them alone again. As the weighted silence continues to hang over the table, Daisy’s thoughts focus on Sloan. She’s known her all of her life. Or if not truly known her, she’s known of her. Growing up in the Leeside supernatural community means they attended the same schools and parties, but they were never friends. In fact, Sloan made it quite clear when they were younger that they were not in the same social class and never would be. Then, when everything happened with her parents and she was left alone as a preteen, well, that made Daisy even more of a social pariah. Which Sloan and her group of shitheads took advantage of. They used every opportunity they could to remind Daisy that she would never be one of them. Little did they know she didn’t need the reminder—she knew she wasn’t like everyone else. Honestly, if it weren’t for Petra, Daisy doesn’t know if she would even be here today.
As she feels frustration from the past build, Daisy’s power rises with it. A strong gust of air rushes in from behind them, bringing with it faint violet tendrils and whiffs of fresh flowers from outside. The gust blows out the candle on the table and knocks over their glasses, spilling water onto Sloan’s lap. Sloan jumps out of her seat in surprised confusion as she uses her napkin to try and clean up the mess.
“That was weird. Where did that wind come from?” Sloan asks, looking around the closed-off corner their table is in.
Daisy feigns confusion as well and stands, trying to help clean up. “I don’t know,” she responds, signaling for the staff’s attention. One of the waitstaff brings over supplies to clean and reset the table. For the moment they are left waiting, Daisy watches as the wrinkle of confusion between Sloan’s brow deepens.
“I don’t get it,” Sloan finally says.
“It’s not that big of a deal. Likely some kind of temporary disturbance, or maybe an ogre passing gas.”
Sloan’s eyes cut to Daisy, unamused. “Not funny.”
“Honestly, forget about it. It’s not a big deal, and no one was hurt. The table is ready again, and”—Daisy points to the staff approaching them with their hands full of plates—“it looks like our food is here.”
Sloan’s eyes narrow at her, but she retakes her seat opposite Daisy. If this is a date, it’s one of the worst ones Daisy has ever been on.
CHAPTER 14
Sloan
Sloan enjoys her food and the tiny bit of conversation she manages to coax out of Daisy, but throughout the entire meal, she can’t stop thinking about that random gust of wind. Where they are seated, they are blocked off from any draft that would come in from a doorway, and despite Daisy’s attempt to try and distract her, Sloan is pretty sure she saw some faint magic floating on that gust. A faint violet hue, to be precise.
While she knows Daisy is right and it wasn’t a big deal, she wonders what set her off. They had certainly had their moments throughout the day, but things had calmed down, and they were starting to have an actual conversation. It was finally beginning to feel like they could get along, even if it did feel like an awkward date. So why the magical freakout?
“Earth to Sloan!” Daisy says, waving a hand in front of her. She must have said something, and Sloan was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she didn’t hear it.
“Sorry. I zoned out there for a second.”
“Little longer than a second,” Daisy replies. “I was just saying that I’m going to go for a walk around the building and check it out.”
“Oh. Okay.” Sloan responds, sounding more deflated than she meant to. She doesn’t want to force her company on Daisy and understands if she needs space for herself, but Sloan also can’t ignore the pang of hurt at not being asked to go with her. “I guess I’ll see you back in the room then.”
“Sounds good,” Daisy says, placing her napkin on the table as she stands. She gives Sloan a slight nod before turning and walking away without looking back. Sloan’s eyes follow Daisy on her way out, noticing how her sweater hugs her curves and how the ambient light bounces off her purple hair. Sloan sighs softly as she reminds herself why she is here this weekend—to help get this event organized, not to develop feelings for the one person who wouldn’t, and doesn’t, want her.
The waitstaff comes by shortly after Daisy leaves, checking in to see if Sloan would like anything else. There are lots of things she would like, such as a friendship like Daisy and Petra have, or the ability to not be known by her last name and all the expectations that come with it. To avoid unloading all of her mental torment on this poor staff member, she takes a breath, places a kind smile on her face, and says, “I’ll take a cappuccino, please.”
“Would you like a slice of cherry cheesecake to go with it?”
“Sure. That sounds great,” Sloan replies, doing her best not to let the sense of self-pity fester now that she’s about to have dessert all alone.
“Anything else, miss?” the waitstaff asks as they deposit her drink and dessert in front of her.
“No, this is great. Thank you.”
“My pleasure. Enjoy.”
Sloan smiles and nods slightly in response as she hooks her finger into the cup’s handle and brings the cinnamon-coated foam and espresso to her lips. She takes a sip and closes her eyes, letting the velvety chocolatey flavors wash over her tongue. As her eyes open, her only thought is that she will have to make sure Daisy has a cappuccino before they leave. Her power sparks under her skin at the thought of Daisy. She breathes deeply, answering its call and recognizing that Daisy may be someone special. With their past, though, she doesn’t know if they could ever move beyond the bare acquaintances that they are now. When her drink and cheesecake are finished, she places her napkin on the table and rises. As she makes her way back to the restaurant entrance, she looks back in the direction of their table, wondering if perhaps tonight was the beginning of a shift for them.
Back in their room, she throws her purse down on the desk and takes off her heels, carefully tucking them out of the way. Her hands find their way up to her chestnut-colored hair, and she runs them through, stopping at the base of her neck, where she interlaces her fingers together and then sighs.
Sloan’s thoughts fly through her mind like a broomstick gone rogue. Did Daisy feel like this was a dinner date? What caused her to manifest physical magic? Is there something wrong with her?
As Sloan’s brain takes her on a deeper dive and the anxiety tightens her chest, worried that this incident could mean something more, she hears the lock on the door beep. She stares at the door, listening to the handle turn, and watches as Daisy steps through the entrance, bathed in the golden glow from the light in the hallway. The tightness in her chest instantly releases as her eyes travel down Daisy’s body.
“Oh. Hi. I didn’t think you’d be back yet,” Daisy says, surprised to see Sloan. She closes the door behind her, kicks off her shoes, walks over to the bed, and flops onto it.
