Page 47 of Witch You Would

Penelope and I had to get our hair and makeup fixed before we were allowed on camera, so by the time we were back at our station,

hunched over her notebook, we’d lost a half hour. Felicia and Charlotte were already sorting through their reagents and prepping

their equipment; we needed to hurry if we wanted to catch up.

With a last dot on an exclamation point, Penelope put her pencil down. “Perfect. This is going to be awesome.”

“Extremely.”

Once we started brainstorming for real, Penelope had suggested the best thing we could do for the final spell was celebrate

the charity I was competing for. If we lost, it might still impress enough people to get them to open their wallets. Maybe

even pull in some new sponsors who wanted to be part of the magic, too.

We were calling it “Making Magic Together”: using the base spell I’d cast the night we met, we’d make a top hat that would

pop out residual echoes of old stage magic stuff—flowers, cards, rabbits, white doves. There were more cool bits, like fog

and sparkle effects and fireworks, but that was the general idea.

“Hopefully Felicia didn’t grab all the duskywing butterfly wings they have,” Penelope said. “We can substitute crushed amethyst, but then we’d have to change the—”

“Go check first,” I said. “We’ll adjust if we have to.”

“Right. Stop catastrophizing.” Penelope smiled softly. “You know, after what happened last night, I almost feel like nothing

could be worse? It makes all of this weirdly chill by comparison.”

I was still recovering from the adrenaline check of a few minutes ago, but I knew what she meant. This wasn’t over, though.

Penelope needed the cash prize and the residency, and I needed the charity donation. None of that had changed, even if everything

else had.

“We just have to stay focused, and watch out in case of...”

I nodded. In case Charlotte or whoever she paid to sabotage the others tried again now. If Felicia was right, and she wasn’t

doing it herself directly, basically anyone on set was a suspect.

“It’s too bad we can’t...” Hmm, didn’t want to say it out loud, so I took the pencil and wrote: “Trap.”

Penelope grabbed my arm. “Yes! I used to make charms at the store, for when I had to do casting in the back. I can’t believe

I didn’t think of it before.”

“Do you need an extra cauldron, or—”

“Nope.” She pulled out another pencil and wrote down a list of ingredients: a jar, a black candle, vinegar, a lemon, paper,

and twine.

I raised an eyebrow and wrote, “Freezer spell?”

Penelope nodded.

I’d never heard of those being used in stores. They could be bad news, but I trusted Penelope to know what she was doing.

And if anyone deserved to get an ugly shock, it was whoever kept sabotaging stuff.

She left to grab our supplies, while I started setting up our gear. It was a routine now, and honestly, I loved it. Maybe she’d work with me on Mage You Look when this was all over? The thought made me grin.

I paused, crouched in front of the open cabinet with a cauldron in my hands. Thinking about working on the show with Isaac

and Rick had given me so much anxiety, even before I’d known the specifics. So had being on Cast Judgment , but I’d sucked it up because I’d agreed with Sam and Ed that it was a great opportunity.

Imagining working with Penelope, though? I was totally amped up. I wanted to do it, looked forward to it, instead of being

freaked out so much I had to self-medicate. Even the idea of cutting back the explanation tiers like Sam and Ed had suggested?

I still thought we shouldn’t, but if we did, it wouldn’t sting so badly because I would be able to talk things over with Penelope,

in ways I couldn’t with my friends.

Those conversations—trading ideas and getting into debates and thinking deep thoughts about how magic worked—were why I’d

majored in magical theory in the first place, why I started my Doctor Witch blog, and why I didn’t completely hate being an adjunct even when the work was grueling and demoralizing.

Mage You Look was so one-sided by comparison.

Most of my fans wanted to laugh at me and move on, and even if they wanted to chat for real

about magic, I couldn’t because I had to pretend to be a clueless fuckup.

With Penelope, I didn’t have to pretend. Even if everything in my life stayed the same after this show, having her changed

how I felt about it. And that made all the difference.

Failure to launch a career in Hollywood might disappoint my friends, and it would be bad news for my bank account, but there

had to be other ways to get ahead that wouldn’t make me miserable, right?

Shit, I hoped so. I probably shouldn’t have snapped at Isaac, but seriously, fuck that guy.

Penelope got back with all our stuff, and we went through our checks. Everything seemed okay, thankfully.

“Cover me while I make the other thing,” she said. “Go full Presto.”

“As you wish, m’lady.” Resisting the urge to kiss her hand was not easy.

I made a production of setting up our actual spell, pretending to fumble bottles and catching them at the last second, spinning

knives and juggling pieces of chalk. Syd came by, and I made random small objects appear from their ears and nose, much to

Nate’s delight from behind the camera.

Felicia and Charlotte seemed totally into whatever they were doing, though I couldn’t identify their reagents from a distance.

They had at least two pots boiling and a trio of connected spell circles, which meant some kind of cascading enchantment...

Interesting.

“All done,” Penelope whispered.

Unless I’d been looking for the knotted pieces of twine strategically arranged around our equipment, I probably wouldn’t have

noticed them. Nice.

Five and a half hours left. Damn, time went fast. We had to hustle.

Even though our station was now booby-trapped, I still kept an eye on anyone who wandered close. Syd again, with Nate; Tori,

who positioned us for a few specific shots from the dolly camera; and finally, the judges, who did their usual interrogation

and commentary. Slightly nicer this time, because I guess finalists got special treatment. Even Felicia and Charlotte seemed

genuinely friendly instead of like a pair of ice queens trying to figure out how to talk to peasants.

The hours passed, and nothing weird happened. Smooth casting all the way. When we wrapped, Penelope added more twine to our fridge and other equipment just in case, and back to the hotel we went.

Alina smiled at Penelope as we walked to the elevator. “You’re looking better.”

Penelope blushed and gave her a shy smile back. “Yeah. I am. Thanks.”

Little Manny leaned on Alina’s desk. “You should have seen it. We were all minding our own business, doing our jobs, and—”

“Bro,” Big Manny said, wrapping a beefy forearm around Little Manny’s mouth. “NDA. What happens on set, stays on set.” He

winked at me, and I grinned.

Then it hit me. Everyone in the production knew about Penelope and me now. They’d seen me without my safety glasses. We didn’t

have to hide or pretend anymore, not here. Our secret was out.

“Hey,” I said to Penelope. “We should make sure our plans for tomorrow are solid. My room later?”

Penelope’s eyes got big. “I thought we were going to, you know,” she whispered.

“That was before I told you I loved you in front of almost every single person in this hotel.” I waggled my eyebrows at her

and she snorted a laugh.

“Tomorrow is a big day,” she said. “We need to rest.”

I could probably say something about sleeping better with her in my bed, but I didn’t want to push. “Okay. Let’s get food,

then.”

Up we went, to the pool deck and the dinner buffet awaiting us. I was so hungry, I could eat ten steaks. As soon as we walked out into the warm night, though, the whistling and applause started again, because we were the current hot goss and nobody here had any chill.

Quentin practically tackled me. “I knew it! I knew the two of you had a thing.”

Amy smiled and took Penelope’s hands. “I’m so happy for you. You’re both so sweet and nice.”

“It hasn’t even been two weeks,” Dylan said, folding his arms and giving me a dad look. “You really serious about our girl?”

“Totally serious,” I said solemnly. Then, because I couldn’t help it, I added, “Meow and forever.”

“Yeah,” Penelope said. “It was kitten in the stars.”

If the smile on my face got any bigger, my cheeks would break.

Quentin groaned. “You dorks definitely deserve each other.”

I certainly hoped so.

Morning came too soon and not soon enough. I hadn’t wanted something to be over this badly since I’d defended my dissertation.

Today I wore what Sam had called my “winner shirt,” which she had forbidden me from using unless I made it to the finals.

It was the least wild-colored option in my Leandro Presto wardrobe, just black and white and red, but the design made up for

it. Each of the front panels featured an old-timey stage magician with a cape and wand, holding a top hat with a deck of cards

flying out of it. The huge collar, side panels and sleeves were covered in tiny card suit symbols, diamonds and spades and

clubs and hearts. Perfect for our spell.

Penelope sat at one of the tables in the restaurant, a plate of untouched food in front of her. We saw each other at the same

time, and she smiled in what seemed like relief.

“We match,” she said when I got to her.

We did. She wore a loose V-neck red shirt covered in white dots and black hearts. Hell yeah. All was right with the world again.

“What about your apron?” I asked.

“You’ll see.”

We ate, I got Penelope’s coffee ready to go, and we waited in the lobby for the van, surrounded by hungover crew. Today would

be a long one, because after casting we’d have judging, and then final confessionals. Rain poured down outside, turning the

street into a river; I hoped it wasn’t an omen, or if it was, that it wasn’t for us.

Felicia and Charlotte stood nearby, juntos pero no revueltos, as my dad would say. Together, but not close. Felicia had on