Page 29 of The Music Demon

“We’ll have to be disagreein’ on that one.”

Shivaun pulled her phone from the messenger bag she wore cross-body. “Do you have the number?”

“Bettin’ ye three wins that ‘tis already in you’re phone.”

When the girls were together, their thick and somewhat antiquated accent took over their speech like a possession.

Without responding to the bet, which was understood though not defined, Shy proceeded through contacts.

When the twins were old enough to run, they discovered that Shivaun was faster. It was a fact that had sat squarely in the craw of Sheridan their entire lives. She’d learned to deal with the irritation by betting when she was most likely to prevail. Shy paid her debts by allowing Sher to win foot races. Shivaun never told her sister that she’d do that with or without the pretense of gambling victories.

Rosie’s name was in her contact list.

“How did she…?”

“No point askin’ how,” Sher replied. “The mistress has her ways.”

“The mistress has her mysterious ways?”

“The mistress is mischievous.”

“Would ye say the mistress is on a mysterious mission of mischief?”

Sher laughed. “’Tis no’ fair. ‘Twas I who was fated to be doin’ the winnin’ this fine mornin’.”

“If ‘twas so, then ye would be winnin’ and no’ whinin’.”

Sher laughed again. As much as she was reveling in still being on her honeymoon with the sexiest elf alive, at least from her perspective, she needed personal interaction with her sister like she needed air.

“’Tis ringin’,” Shy reported as they continued up the stairs.

“Phones do that,” Sher quipped.

“Why are you calling when I’m right here?” Rosie asked.

“Right where?” Shy said, looking confused.

“Look up.” Rosie leaned over the balustrade above, phone to her ear.

“Because my sister,” Shy gave Sher a look, “thought it unlikely that you’re here.”

“Hanging up,” Rosie said and disappeared.

When the twins arrived at the inner door of her offices, Rosie was in a discussion with Haversfil Grieve that appeared too focused to have originated one minute before.

Grieve nodded to the twins, nodded to Rosie, and departed without a word.

“O’Malleys,” Rosie said. “How am I of service to you this Wednesday?”

“’Tis Wednesday?” Sher said. “Great Paddy. I just realized I no longer keep track of days. It could be Lassmastide for all I know.”

“Yes,” Rosie said. “It’s Wednesday. What can I do for you?” Rosie addressed the question to Sher, possibly because, of the two girls, she’d been first to speak.

“Do no’ know,” Sher said. “I’m a support sibling.”

“What is a support sibling?” Rosie said.

“’Tis like a support dog, but I’m no’ a dog.” Sheridan said this as if that was obvious.