Madame Charmaine cuts into our discussion. “You’re single now but you will find someone very soon,” she tells Daisy.
“Well that’s not right,” Daisy says, the cameras rotating to her. “I already have a boyfriend.”
Ryke’s boots finally fall to the floor. “Since when?”
“Since last week.”
Madame Charmaine holds up a finger. “Aha!” she exclaims. “Soon. Very soon.”
“So soon that the events have already happened,” Connor says. “Are we changing the definition of precognition today? Shall I call Merriam-Webster?”
Lo breaks into a grin. “You’re nasty today, Connor.”
“I have a limit on bullshit. Magic tips the scale.”
“It’s not magic,” Madame Charmaine rebuts with ease. “I have the sight.”
Connor pauses. “…like I was saying.”
“Why haven’t any of us met your boyfriend?” I ask Daisy, trying to steer this to a better direction, one that doesn’t make Connor look like a bigger prick than he really is. But I have a feeling Scott will edit him in the worst light no matter what.
Before she answers, Ryke whispers in her ear, and they both suddenly stand at the same time. We’re all on edge until Ryke sits on the floor, taking her spot, and she settles in his chair, her legs crossed underneath her.
Ryke has his nice moments. I’ll admit that.
“Daisy,” I say. “Did you hear me?”
“Yeah…um.” She swats her hair out of her face. “He’s not really the meet-and-greet kind of boyfriend.”
“So basically you’re just fucking him,” Ryke blurts out.
Oh look, his nice moment just passed.
At least, I can forecast that he won’t make a move on Daisy because of her age. I think he’s more likely to run into traffic than hook up with her.
“Not in front of the cameras,” Connor advises.
Ryke shoots him the middle finger with an added glare.
I can feel Connor’s chest rising in irritation. “I don’t know why I care,” Connor says. “It’s not like anyone will understand you anyway. You curse every other word. They’re going to literally bleep you out of the show.”
“And that’d make you so fucking happy.”
“I’d be happier if I could tie you up to the front porch and leave you there. I’d even be kind enough to toss you a steak bone to gnaw on.”
Lo can’t stop laughing.
Ryke’s eyes darken at his brother. “Where’s the fucking loyalty?”
His laughter dies down and his lips fall. “Did you hear what you said to Daisy? Honestly, how about never bringing up her sex life. And then maybe I’ll consider siding with you.”
“You guys.” Daisy waves her hand to regain focus. “I’m not screwing my boyfriend. I just don’t want any of you to meet him. He’s kind of dumb.”
Ryke’s jaw hardens. “He’s dumb? Then why the fuck are you with him?”
Daisy shrugs and avoids his dark eyes. “He’s nice.”
Scott suddenly scoots closer to me, his hip pressing against mine. I want to edge towards Connor, but I don’t want to look frightened of Scott. So I stand my ground and feel his warm breath on my ear.
“You should go next. See what your future holds.”
I bristle at the thought of being told something like “someone you love will die soon” or “you’ll marry a stupid man.” Connor may not take stock in psychics, but a part of me will always be a little superstitious.
“Madame,” Scott calls before I can stop him. “Rose would like to go next.”
“And then you?” Connor asks. “We’d all love to know when you’ll die.”
The muscles in Scott’s jaw twitch.
Madame Charmaine sidles over to our couch and kneels in front of me. She snatches my hand and scans the lines on my palm wildly. “Mmm.”
I don’t like mms. They sound like unintelligible baby muttering, which is the equivalent of sticking a sharp needle in my ear.
“I think…that I will have a better reading with cards.” She pulls the shuffled deck from her pocket. “Split this in half. Do not flip them over.”
I do as she says, randomly picking from the pile, purple crescent moons printed on the back of each card.
She returns to her ottoman beside the coffee table and starts flipping the cards right side up. I can’t see any of the designs, but I think I spot a white unicorn on one, which has Connor rolling his eyes.
Even so, he intertwines his fingers in mine and kisses my knuckles, as though I need extra reassurance before she exposes my future.
She overturns the last card. “I see,” she says and nods. “You’re very fertile. I sense two strong male spirits in your life, possibly twin boys in the future.” She has to be joking.
A crying baby—that’s a personal circle of hell for me. When my eldest sister, Poppy, had her child, I didn’t acknowledge my niece until she could form intelligible sentences. I have nothing in common with kids. And no one needs to tell me I would make a horrible mother. I know it’s true. Which is why I plan to never have children.
“Take it back,” I snap.
“I can’t return a reading.”
“It’s not a purse, Rose,” Connor chimes in, his lips rising. “It’s your future.” His amusement is palpable.
I point a finger at him. “Shut. Up.”
Connor grabs my hand and says, “I won’t believe in it if you won’t.”
He doesn’t seem that upset by my declaration （technically I’ve voiced my baby-disdain before so it shouldn’t come as a surprise） but I strangely ache for a true answer. For his honesty. I know he’s not going to share it now, not when the cameras are rolling and with Scott sitting right beside me.
“Deal,” I say.
The psychic clicks her tongue. “I think I’m picking up someone else’s energy. It’s very black, very dark, not good at all.”
“Definitely Connor,” Loren says with a wink.
Connor actually cracks a smile, and as far as I can tell, it’s genuine.
“No,” Madame Charmaine says. “It’s from her.” She stares right at Lily. No, no, no.
“You’re going to be married soon, are you not?”
Lily slides lower on the loveseat, uncomfortable with the attention, especially as Brett and Ben direct both of their lenses at her. “Yes,” she says in a small, feeble voice. Lo sets their paper plates on the coffee table.
“All right,” Connor says, standing and nearing the psychic. “I think that’s enough magic for one night.” He puts a hand on Madame Charmaine’s elbow, and she rises with the pressure. “It was really nice to meet someone who’s dabbled in the dramatic arts, but I think it’s time for you to go.”
Loren mouths, thank you, to Connor, and then he rubs Lily’s back.
But Scott has to ruin it as he stands. “I’m in charge of production, Connor. I say when these events end.” He looks to the clock. “And we have ten more minutes.”
On cue, Madame Charmaine directs her next question to Lily. “This wedding, you don’t want to go through with it, do you?”