office, Zoe, and the whole of Matrix PR. “
I
don’t think that that any of this matters, but you’re my friend, so I go with it. I would appreciate the same suspension of disbelief from you at this time.”
Lorna was aghast. “You believe in magical nuts and you don’t believe in
public relations
?”
“Girls! Please! Let’s keep to one thought at a time,” Maria Grazie begged. “Belle, honey, do you really think that this is a magical hazelnut?”
Annabelle narrowed her eyes at MG, who held up her hands, palms out, in a pacifying manner. She shot her eyes at Lorna, who sat frozen, disbelieving, at her desk.
“I left the shop, got my breath back. Then I wanted to ask about those cards, the ones I saw on the table, but when I turned back, it was gone.”
“The table?” Maria Grazia was feeling hopelessly confused.
“The shop!” Annabelle shouted. Lorna’s face was so blank as if it had been shot full of Botox.
“Gone! Dusty windows, the doorknob came off in my hand, all the books and statues and candles — gone! I banged on the door, on the window — and it — the hazelnut — laughed at me. I had it in my hand and it shook and rolled around like it was laughing at me.” Annabelle poked at the nut. It wobbled a bit at the prodding, but otherwise remained still and dumb.
“Sweetie … you have to admit that this is all a teeny bit out there,” said Maria Grazia, softly.
“I guess.” She glared at the nut, and poked it again.
MG grasped at another straw. “Maybe we could go on the web and do a bit of research?”
“Maybe she could chop it up and make a batch of magical snickerdoodles. Maybe she can put under her mattress and in the morning find out if she’s a princess. Maybe she could take it out to the Sheep Meadow and plant it — ”
“Hey!” Annabelle’s face cleared of its dismay and her eyes lit up. She scrambled to her feet, and slipped the nut back into her pocket. She started to say something — stopped — started again — whispered “Bye!” and charged out of Lorna’s office so suddenly that Zoe leaped straight out of her seat and fell on top of her desk.
Lorna looked at Maria Grazia. “
Now
tell me that you’re not worried. Tell me that you’re not terribly concerned.”
“I am worried and terribly, terribly concerned.” Maria Grazia raked her hands through her hair.
“What’s she going to do?”
Maria Grazia looked at her balefully. “What you said, I guess.”
“Good
Lord
. This is
nonsense
.”
“What if it isn’t nonsense?” Maria Grazia curled up on the couch. She herself would have luxurious pillows scattered all over the thing; maybe she’d make some for Lorna tonight. “Maybe this did happen. Maybe she is magic and psychic and all that. I mean, look how good she is with the tarot, right? She is always right. Always.”
“A card is a card. A laughing, magical hazelnut is another thing altogether. Did you hear her …
yell
at me?”
Maria Grazia giggled. “I did, and I saw your face when she did. Priceless.”
“She’s losing it.”
“She’s still hurting. It’s only been a couple of weeks, a month, tops. Whatever gets her over the repulsive Wilson, I say bring it on.”
Lorna rose and moved to lean against the front of her desk. “You think she’s really going to plant the thing?”
“It’ll probably just rot away in the dirt.” Maria Grazia got up from the couch, and went over to give Lorna, who looked as if her feelings had been hurt, a little hug. Lorna hugged back, and looked at Maria Grazia in a fresh wave of incredulity.
“How can she say she doesn’t believe in
PR
?”
Chapter Eight
“Ooh, baby, baby, love me like it was yeeeesssssterdaaaaaaay — ”
Annabelle’s fist descended on her alarm clock. “Shut. Up,” she snarled, and rolled over.
Love. Ha. Pop songs. Ha
ha
. It was all a bunch of crap, a mountain of garbage. Love, friendship, divination, spells, dreams, ambition — bullshit. What was the point
I
don’t think that that any of this matters, but you’re my friend, so I go with it. I would appreciate the same suspension of disbelief from you at this time.”
Lorna was aghast. “You believe in magical nuts and you don’t believe in
public relations
?”
“Girls! Please! Let’s keep to one thought at a time,” Maria Grazie begged. “Belle, honey, do you really think that this is a magical hazelnut?”
Annabelle narrowed her eyes at MG, who held up her hands, palms out, in a pacifying manner. She shot her eyes at Lorna, who sat frozen, disbelieving, at her desk.
“I left the shop, got my breath back. Then I wanted to ask about those cards, the ones I saw on the table, but when I turned back, it was gone.”
“The table?” Maria Grazia was feeling hopelessly confused.
“The shop!” Annabelle shouted. Lorna’s face was so blank as if it had been shot full of Botox.
“Gone! Dusty windows, the doorknob came off in my hand, all the books and statues and candles — gone! I banged on the door, on the window — and it — the hazelnut — laughed at me. I had it in my hand and it shook and rolled around like it was laughing at me.” Annabelle poked at the nut. It wobbled a bit at the prodding, but otherwise remained still and dumb.
“Sweetie … you have to admit that this is all a teeny bit out there,” said Maria Grazia, softly.
“I guess.” She glared at the nut, and poked it again.
MG grasped at another straw. “Maybe we could go on the web and do a bit of research?”
“Maybe she could chop it up and make a batch of magical snickerdoodles. Maybe she can put under her mattress and in the morning find out if she’s a princess. Maybe she could take it out to the Sheep Meadow and plant it — ”
“Hey!” Annabelle’s face cleared of its dismay and her eyes lit up. She scrambled to her feet, and slipped the nut back into her pocket. She started to say something — stopped — started again — whispered “Bye!” and charged out of Lorna’s office so suddenly that Zoe leaped straight out of her seat and fell on top of her desk.
Lorna looked at Maria Grazia. “
Now
tell me that you’re not worried. Tell me that you’re not terribly concerned.”
“I am worried and terribly, terribly concerned.” Maria Grazia raked her hands through her hair.
“What’s she going to do?”
Maria Grazia looked at her balefully. “What you said, I guess.”
“Good
Lord
. This is
nonsense
.”
“What if it isn’t nonsense?” Maria Grazia curled up on the couch. She herself would have luxurious pillows scattered all over the thing; maybe she’d make some for Lorna tonight. “Maybe this did happen. Maybe she is magic and psychic and all that. I mean, look how good she is with the tarot, right? She is always right. Always.”
“A card is a card. A laughing, magical hazelnut is another thing altogether. Did you hear her …
yell
at me?”
Maria Grazia giggled. “I did, and I saw your face when she did. Priceless.”
“She’s losing it.”
“She’s still hurting. It’s only been a couple of weeks, a month, tops. Whatever gets her over the repulsive Wilson, I say bring it on.”
Lorna rose and moved to lean against the front of her desk. “You think she’s really going to plant the thing?”
“It’ll probably just rot away in the dirt.” Maria Grazia got up from the couch, and went over to give Lorna, who looked as if her feelings had been hurt, a little hug. Lorna hugged back, and looked at Maria Grazia in a fresh wave of incredulity.
“How can she say she doesn’t believe in
PR
?”
Chapter Eight
“Ooh, baby, baby, love me like it was yeeeesssssterdaaaaaaay — ”
Annabelle’s fist descended on her alarm clock. “Shut. Up,” she snarled, and rolled over.
Love. Ha. Pop songs. Ha
ha
. It was all a bunch of crap, a mountain of garbage. Love, friendship, divination, spells, dreams, ambition — bullshit. What was the point
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