Page 38 of Witch You Would

The high from spending so much of the mixer with Charlotte kept me floating through the rest of the party, all the way back

to the hotel and in the shower and when I was snuggled under the covers in bed. And then, of course, it immediately turned

into me overthinking everything I said and did, trying to figure out how badly I’d embarrassed myself.

Knock, knock. Who? Gil? I jumped up to get the door.

Gil, still in Leandro disguise, slipped in and gave me a quick kiss. “We need to talk.”

“Okay.” He sounded really serious.

He slumped into my desk chair and took off his glasses, rubbing his face. “Shit went down earlier. I didn’t want to wait to

tell you, just in case.”

The next few minutes were a roller coaster of emotions. If I could have found the dude who threatened a charity for kids,

I might have done violence in the form of cursed dolls that couldn’t be traced back to me.

“You’re sure he was looking at Felicia?” I asked.

“Not a hundred percent, but it was either her or Charlotte.”

Couldn’t be Charlotte. “Fuck.”

“Double fuck. We have to be super careful tomorrow.”

“Did you get the picture?”

Gil held up his phone. “It’s in my email. And I still have the check.”

“Felicia is probably going to try something since her minion failed.”

Gil grinned. “I love it when you say things like ‘her minion failed’ like you’re some kind of spy.”

“You’re the one having meetings with shady dudes trying to bribe you! I cannot even with this.”

He could have sold me out. His charity needed the money, and we totally might get cut the day after tomorrow. Instead, he

told the guy to fuck off and got evidence. Dios mío. And I hadn’t even told him...

“I might be homeless in two months,” I blurted out.

“What?” Gil jumped out of the chair. “Are you serious?”

“My landlord is raising my rent and I don’t have a job. I’m seriously fucked. Unless.”

“Unless we win. Or Charlotte hires you.”

Was I that obvious? “It doesn’t have to be Charlotte.”

Gil hugged me and kissed my head. “You want it to be, though.”

“She’s so cool!” I groaned. “But what I’m saying is, thank you for not doing the thing. Not that I would expect you to, but

I know how important this all is, and if we don’t win, then—”

“Oh, we’re going to win. We’re going to win so hard, people will beg you to work for them.”

“And throw money at Alan Kazam for the kids.” I paused, thinking. “But what about you? What do you get from all this?”

“Subscribers, hopefully. Advertisers.” His grip tightened, press ing my face against his chest. “Possibly my own show? On TV, not just online.”

He didn’t sound excited. “Do you want your own show?”

“Who wouldn’t? Get rich, get famous, live that fantasy.”

I put together everything I knew about Gil, the sweet blogger and pen pal, with what I’d seen of Leandro Presto, happy himbo

magic disaster, and came up with a puzzle whose pieces didn’t fit. But it was late, and we had to be up early for round three,

so I didn’t push.

Wrapping my arms around his neck, I went up on my tiptoes and kissed him. Not a sexy kiss, not a let’s get it on kiss. It was a things will work out kiss, a we’re in this together kiss. An I see you and you’re already enough kiss.

I don’t know if he picked up on any of that, but he kissed me back the same way. When we stopped, he rested his forehead on

mine.

“We should get some rest,” he said.

“We should.”

“We’re going to crush it tomorrow.”

“Abso-fucking-lutely.”

He kissed me again and I walked him to the door, backward, still holding him. I slid my hands down his chest, then pushed

him gently away.

One more kiss.

One more.

“Pero, like, for serious,” I said. “You need to go.”

Gil gave me a wicked grin that was pure Leandro. “Are you sure?”

“No. Yes. Come on, we’re not horny teenagers; we can control ourselves for two days.”

“Two days,” he agreed. “And then, pants party.”

A lot could change in two days. We would make sure it changed for the better.

“Three teams remain,” Syd said. “Who will proceed to the final round, and who will magically disappear back onto the beaches

of sunny Miami? Time to find out on today’s episode of Cast Judgment .”

They paused for a five count, then kept going. “After last night’s fun on one of the ocean’s most exciting cruise ships, I’m

sure our contestants are ready to continue the celebration theme with our next challenge.”

I was ready to sleep more, honestly, but I was also hyped. Nervous, yes, but not in the way I had been for the last two rounds.

The difference was Gil. Knowing it was him, knowing I could trust him in ways that I’d been unsure I could trust Leandro,

helped me relax. When he clowned around, I’d know it was for the show. When he drew a magic circle, I wouldn’t stress over

triple-checking it.

I’d still double-check, but that was just normal safety stuff.

I looked at him out of the corner of my eye. His pale blue shirt was covered in sailboats and clouds, with dolphins leaping

out of inky waves. Of course he matched my apron, which was a darker blue full of mermaids casting bubbly spells while fish

swam around. I guess we both wanted to go with the cruise ship theme.

“Today’s brief,” Syd said, yoinking my attention back. “The judges would like you to create two dozen party favors. They can

be as small or as large as you’d like, as long as they’re identical and impressive.”

I’d only ever gotten favors at kid parties and weddings. This was going to be great. Not.

“You have two days to envision and enchant your miniature masterpieces of merrymaking. Your time begins . . . now!”

The clock on the wall started counting down from sixteen hours. Eight today, eight tomorrow, unless something went super wrong

again. Hopefully the crew would be paying closer attention to everyone out of paranoia. I sure would be.

Spell design first. I pulled out my trusty notebook and pencil, flipping to the next empty page. It was easier now that I

had a bookmark.

“Is that the queen of hearts I gave you?” Gil asked.

I blushed. “Yeah. For good luck.” I didn’t tell him I’d been carrying it around every day since the gardens.

Our first kiss. It would always be special to me, whatever else happened. We couldn’t talk about that now, though.

“Penelope—” he started.

“Party favors.” I wrote that at the top of the page. “Again, I wish my cousin Gina was available for consultations. Have you

ever been to cool parties?”

“Not ones with stuff to take home,” he said. “Besides leftover food or beer or, you know, those little bags of candy and toys?”

“My mom hated those.”

“The plastic noisemaker things.”

“And the clappers.”

“So loud,” we said together, then grinned.

I glanced at Charlotte, wondering what she and Felicia would be making. Something super sophisticated, probably.

At the party, she’d asked about my background and experience and career goals. It had felt almost like a job interview, or

maybe the interview before the interview? I was trying not to get my hopes up.

“Maybe something with bubbles?” Gil suggested. “They had them at my cousin’s wedding instead of rice.”

I wrote “bubbles” on the page. “We can’t do candles, or incense. Potpourri?”

“Soaps?”

“Chocolates?”

We both looked at Dylan and Zeke.

“Not chocolates,” we said, again at the same time.

“They’d wipe the floor with us,” Gil added.

“Bet.” So what else?

Gil kneaded his neck. “Sorry, I’m struggling. It’s hard to think of fancy stuff when I don’t really do fancy.”

“Yeah, same.” I tapped the pencil on the table a few times, then stopped. “Why are we trying to do fancy?”

“So we can beat the other fancy people? Be impressive for... reasons?”

He meant me. He was trying to make me look good, because he knew I needed to advertise my skills. That had been the whole

point of this, from when I first applied because Rosy twisted my arm. To get a better job, to stop working my ass off at Espinosa’s

for shit pay and shit treatment.

But this wasn’t all about me. It was about Gil, too. He needed to look good so his charity would get donors. So he could get

more subscribers and advertisers. He had a brand. Why weren’t we leaning into that?

“Forget fancy,” I said. “What would be fun? What kind of stuff would kids like?”

Gil’s eyes got big behind his safety glasses and he grinned like I’d given him a present. Excellent.

“Pinatas,” he said.

I wrote that down. “Yes, yes, yes. Ooh, they should like, pop on their own? Maybe in a cloud of glitter? Not real glitter, magic glitter.”

“Easier than confetti, probably.”

“Okay, but we have to put stuff inside the pinatas.”

“Bubbles?”

“Hmm, what could the bubbles do?”

“Animal shapes!”

“Oh, that’s good.”

Gil leaned on the counter, close enough for me to smell his deodorant, which is what I’d finally figured out gave him that

appley goodness. “It’s too bad we can’t make something that would let kids do their own magic. Nothing big, just something...

flashy.”

“Presto?” I finished.

“Yeah. Presto.”

An idea kicked down my brain door. “We totally can. All we need is a closed gather-and-release loop.”

“How can we do that twenty-four times, though?”

“We don’t. We do it once and let the law of synecdoche do the work for us.” I started sketching out my idea on the page, listing

potential ingredients and steps.

“Ohh,” Gil said. “That’s genius. What spell are we going to enchant them with?”

“Dealer’s choice. What do you think would be fun? What do kids love to see you do?”

“Fireworks,” he said. “Fake ones, obviously.”

“Perfect. What do we need for that?”

We jumped into planning with both feet. Recipe, reagents, timing .

. . we made our step-by-step plan for both days so fast, it was like we were living in each other’s brains.

This time, though, we also quietly worked in space for Leandro Presto to do goofy stuff, including an apparent spell oopsie that would come near the end of the night.

I loved it. Everything felt good, and right. The rhythm we’d found in the other rounds beat stronger now.