way entirely. Still playing coy.
Poor Tom. Poor, bad Tom. I have so many ways to punish him when he finally slinks home.
That annoying Gillian flounces through the door, accompanied by the tinkle of the shop bell. Dressed like a nightmare, as usual. Always was. She's all big, floppy bosom under loose blouses and flowing skirts, with her long white hair pinned up in a sloppy bun. I can't imagine what Tom saw in her.
"Hello sweetie," she calls to me. "Where's that cat of yours today? I've brought him a treat." She tears the top off a bag of cat snacks that smell strongly of rotting fish and walks around a set of shelves, peering into all the places a cat could hide. "Come on, Cat, I've got something special for you. It's been weeks since I've come to visit. You must have grown."
I try to fake Cassie's friendly expression, but I don't know how to work facial muscles in that direction. I do the best I can, but it feels wrong, and I don't like it in the least. "Cat stayed out all night. Not here, I'm afraid. How are you today?" I say, but I'm begging silently to be saved from having to hear her answer. I'd rather tear the girl's ears off than engage in pleasantries with this one.
"Too bad. I wanted to see how he likes these new treats. They were on special, and I immediately thought of him."
I try for a cute, girlish titter, but I only manage something that sounds suspiciously like a bird call. Faking Cassie isn't as easy as I thought it would be. Perhaps I should have observed her more closely over the years. Too late now. "Gilly, you're too nice! I'm sure he'd love it if he were here. I expect him any minute. You know Cat—he always comes back. The shop is never without a Cat for long."
"I'm sure you're right. I'll keep them in my purse for next time." She puts the packet of treats away and walks into the herb section. "I'll just pick up my shisandra and some jasmine oil then." She takes a small packet of herbs from the shelf and turns it over to look at the sticker. She always goes right to the price. How predictable.
"Goodness, Cassie! What happened? The price has nearly doubled!"
"Rising costs, Gilly. Rising costs." Of course, there are no rising costs. I've simply repaired some of the damage Cassie did to the prices while I was gone. There's no competition in Giles for what Cat's Magical Shoppe supplies, and there are a large number of witches and new age-y tourists who want it. Dropping prices under those conditions just isn't good business.
"Oh, it's terrible, isn't it?" she agrees. "Prices just go up and up and up. I imagine the small business owner has a hard time these days."
I expect a fight from her. She would have fought with Eunice. I always enjoyed the conflict, along with her inability to let go of Tom—I could just bring that up, and she'd be off in a frenzy of outrage. It was easy for me to take him away, of course, but I still enjoyed having deprived her. I can't poke that wound as Cassie. It will be difficult, but not impossible, to keep Gillian roughed up about that rivalry. I'll need to find a creative approach to the subject.
I smile brightly at her. Once again, that doesn't feel like the right response, but I have no idea what emotion the girl would show or how she'd show it. She was always perky, always chirpy. That or sobbing about some ridiculous thing she'd blown up in her mind to be a tragedy. I haven't prepped for anything else. "Oh yes, the small business owner is really in a bind. Can I ring that up for you?"
"Absolutely." She hands me her selections, and I check the prices as though I hadn't just written them up myself this morning. "That comes to twelve eighty-three with tax."
As she hands me a twenty and I make change, she asks, "Have you decided if you're going to be there next week, Cass?"
"What's that?"
"Choir practice?"
I cover for myself, not knowing that the coven would be meeting before the full moon, which I did mark on the calendar once I'd pinned down the date of my