‘Hey there, thriving woman-owned small business proprietor,’ came a voice over the hubbub of the bar-goers.
Bonnie looked up to see a pretty woman in loose, artsy attire and huge statement glasses that saidyes, dammit, I’m smart as hell, so don’t try anything.
‘Tessa!’ Bonnie was oddly relieved to see Effie’s friend.Mostly because Tessa was as close as Bonnie was going to get to her sister at the moment, and Bonnie really could do with Effie’s advice. ‘Your usual?’
Tessa beamed. She hoisted herself up on an empty bar stool, stowing her macramé purse on the hook beneath the bar. Ignoring the wishful gaze of the middle-aged guy next to her, she tapped the agate coaster in ahit megesture. ‘I’m impressed you remember. Nice coasters, by the way. Very upscale.’
With a warning look at the middle-aged guy, who wasdefinitelygoing to try something, Bonnie peeled back the foil from the lid of an ornate bottle and popped the cork, letting out the unconscious whoop she always did when she opened a bottle of bubbly. Tessa had been on the bubbly train for as long as Bonnie could remember. Definitely since sometime during their teens, because she distinctively remembered Tessa calling it ‘fun wine’ when Bonnie’s friends had snuck a bottle of it into the house.
‘I wasn’t expecting to see you here,’ said Bonnie as she carefully filled a flute. ‘I know you probably feel like you need to take sides.’
Tessa cocked her head, her hair swinging. She had miraculous curls that Bonnie had always envied. No amount of fighting with the hot tongs could emulate them. Certainly not with Effie’s frizz spell at play. ‘Take sides? Are you and Effie at it again?’
Her tone of faux surprise was belied by her raised eyebrow.
Bonnie popped a sliced strawberry on the side of the sparkling glass, and slid the prosecco over to Tessa. ‘Again is right. But honestly it just sort of feels like she’s given up. She’s avoiding me like the plague.’
‘Ah.’ Tessa sipped. ‘Well, Effie’s got a lot on her plate.’
‘I’vegot a lot on my plate,’ countered Bonnie, trying not to think about how appealing the glass of bubbly looked, and whether it wouldreallybe an unforgiveable act to pour one for herself.
Yes, yes it would. Bonnie’s magic was unpredictable at the best of times. Add some tipsiness to that, and she’d definitely burn the place down.
Tessa raised her drink in salute. ‘I can see that. The bar’s packed. Kudos to you – I know running a small business can be rough. I’ve been trying to sell my crafts online, but nothing is moving. Markets can do okay, but only when the weather’s good and there are no competing events.’
‘You should bring some of your stuff in here.’ Bonnie cracked open a beer and passed it to Bruce Dickens, who hadn’t yet come around to the delights of Memory Lane. ‘We could do a Booze and Schmooze event, maybe? Where people browse local makers’ tables while getting extremely drunk.’
‘Drunk people do make poor and expensive decisions,’ mused Tessa, thoughtfully. ‘Like your sister and roller-skating.’
‘My sister andwhat?’ Bonnie, who’d been pouring a bourbon and Coke, squirted the soda gun all over her shirt. She passed the drink to the patron, blotting her now see-through top down with a napkin. Oh well. A see-through top meant better tips.
‘Oh shit.’ Tessa tried to hide behind one of the agate coasters. ‘Bubbly went straight to my head, I guess. We’ve been roller-skating. Just on the walking trails, nothing fancy. We’re not beating each other up at roller derby or anything. Yet.’
Bonnie couldn’t get past the mental image of Effie sporting a pair of roller skates. A puff of smoke spired up from the rosemary she was cutting for the cocktail garnishes. Rats, she’d been so distracted that her magic had made a surprise appearance. She was definitely doing too much, she thought, catching a glimpse of herself in the small mirror behind the bar. Her bright blue eyes had a slight red tinge, and there were hollows under them. She’d never say it aloud, but she missed having Bobby around. Although at least Tristan of the Milk for Days fame hadn’t come back, so there was that.
‘Wow, the roller-skating thing has made my whole day,’ said Bonnie, taking a moment to touch up her lipstick. She couldn’t lookentirelyhaggard. She had standards to uphold. ‘We should definitely do an event together if it means getting dirt on my holier-than-thou sister. How about the Thursday after Trivia Night? Although Idoexpect to see you here for Trivia Night. And maybe Effie as well, if she’s come around by then. Someone has to set the bar for the town, and just quietly, it’s not going to be my friends.’
Tessa winced around her prosecco. ‘Ouch, is that truth serum you’re whipping up there?’
Bonnie could only dream. Surely truth serum wasn’t anywhere near as difficult to mix as Oswald’s potions. Although the consequences were probably quite alarming, she thought, as her mind flashed back through all the moments in her life where she’d gently massaged reality to fit her version of it a tad better. Or all the times she’d told Kirsty that her hair looked fabulous in a side part or that pale yellow absolutely didn’t make her look like someone expecting a liver transplant.
‘Things are a bit weird right now,’ she admitted. ‘It’s like allegiances are shifting.’
Tessa blinked rapidly, and Bonnie wondered if she had something in her eye. There was nothing worse than when a falsie slipped, or when your apparently waterproof eyeliner made its way into your waterline, burning your eyeball with the viciousness of a thousand fire ants.
‘Tissue?’ Bonnie offered Tessa the box, just in case.
‘Thanks. Just a little something, from the smoke perhaps. You’re really into these smoky drinks at the moment, aren’t you?’
Bonnie chuckled. ‘It’s just a family recipe. But it goes way beyond my usual shake and stir approach. Back in a sec.’
Bonnie hefted a jug filled with purplish liquid to take to Winston and his dart-playing buddies, who tonight werenotin fact playing darts, but were gathered around Gerald’s phone, watching videos of ducklings wearing flower hats.
‘No darts, boys?’ she asked them as she set down the pitcher.
‘No what-what?’ asked Winston, frowning.
Bonnie repeated herself, since Winston’s hearing was iffy at best. Apparently he’d been quite the concert-goer in his youth, and earplugs had been a sign of weakness.
