Max groaned in frustration at Charl’s mention of her Club name.
“That’s not an answer and you know it,” she seethed.
“She’s right,” Brenna piped up, “we need guidelines - any business has them, and we need them too. It will help us determine when we should walk and when we should remain.”
Brenna’s copper hair glinted in the sliver of sunlight that cast itself through the partially shut curtains. The light illuminated her face. Her big hoop earrings and glossy lips cementing her confidence. She was The Sun incarnate.
“We can put rules and measures and fucking guidelines in place,” Charl conceded, “but all I’m hearing is that you’re not saying no.”
His grin sent a shiver down my spine - a warning of what was to come, of how destructive this path truly could be.
“Of course we’re not saying no,” Max exploded, “doing this means that I could quit my job at the diner and actually move forward with my life.”
“I’m also in,” Marie piped up, her soft melodic voice skittering across my skin, her calming presence sinking deep beneath my surface.
“In,” Zoey added without even looking up from her phone.
“You could at least pretend to be present for this discussion,” Selena - Justice - admonished.
“What?” Zoey countered back, “My grandma does this for a living, so it stands to reason that obviously I wouldn’t have a problem with it. If I had a problem with monetizing our Magick, I wouldn’t have joined The Club in the first place.”
“You knew!” Selena pounced, “You knew that this was Charl’s plan all along.”
Zoey rolled her eyes in exasperation, “Anyone with a brain would have known.”
My heart sank, anxiety snaking around my neck, the lump in my throat making it difficult to breathe. I didn’t know - I hadn’t seen the signs. In fact, I had been so content to have these moments within the Club to myself - away from my mother’s world that I never stopped once to consider what would happen when those Summer Camps were over. The time for that childhood experience was fast coming to an end.
The panic clawed its way up my throat, demanding that I either speak or flee, but I could not stay frozen in silence for a moment longer.
“I don’t know how I’m going to manage that with my family,” I croaked, finally finding my voice.
Selena glanced at me, annoyed, and I could almost read her thoughts from here.
Poor little rich girl - she seemed to taunt with her eyes - Mommy and Daddy won’t approve of your Magick,huh?
Charl looked at me with something akin to sympathy in his eyes, “But the rules will make your participation possible.”
Max stopped pacing at Charl’s admission, there would be rules. There would be structure. There would be formality.
“One of the rules,” Max pushed forward, her confidence now returned, “should be that we don’t conduct Magick and readings at a clients home - it’s just too risky, you don’t know what you’ll be walking into.”
The girls around me seemed to nod in agreement, but I still held Charl’s gaze, looking for reassurance that this would be fine - that this insanity we were discussing was manageable.
We ended up agreeing on client meetings occurring in public places - and when the need for private readings arose, we would utilise hotel meeting rooms, adding the rental fee to the client’s bill.
Pulling myself out of the memory, I deftly grabbed the pink briefcase and began restocking it with vials of moonwater, extra herbs and spices, an abundance of candles, and salt. Because you could never have too much salt.
I left my family apartment before Olga could even arrive, ensuring that I was out of the firing line of questioning. Grabbing my phone, I shot my mother a quick text, informing her that I was heading to New Orleans for my own Charity function and that I’d be back in a few weeks because we were rebuilding different parts of the community.
She could hardly complain about my charity work, not when it reflected so well upon her. And, I supposed this was the perfect excuse she needed to explain away the reason I disappeared so abruptly the night before.
Before I could switch my phone off, it pinged loudly, notifying me of an incoming text.
Dad: Mark and the other directors are excited to have you on board. Next year you’re going to show everyone why you are a Rand. Love you, Button.
As if I needed the reminder of my impending deadline. My life would officially be over next year. With no clear path or direction in life, my father had taken it upon himself to carve one out for me, arranging a position at his firm for me. I was due to start next year, and really, what choice did I have? I couldn’t exactly tell them that I had chosen my own path - and that it was filled with Magick.
I hadn’t told Charl yet - hadn’t informed him that I would have to step down from The Club, but I suspected he knew.
After flying in from London, only to catch a flight to New Orleans, my mind and body were plagued with fatigue. I walked into my hotel room, ignoring my hunger and bodily needs, and instead climbed straight into bed. Tomorrow. I could feed myself and shower tomorrow.