Three hours later.
LUNCH WITH BEATRIX ASHFIELD was making Cordelia nervous. The witch had been perfectly kind over the phone and had even guided her through the directions to the restaurant she was currently seated in, browsing an extremely pricey menu and ogling the thirteen thousand dollar caviar, and yet all she could think of was having that unnerving stare leveled on her once again. Two years out of highschool had not wiped that experience from her mind no matter how hard she wanted to forget it.
Beatrix Ashfield was no wilting lily and she doubted she would be one now.
"Miss Donithorn?" The waitress approached her table again, this time with a note in hand. It had been the third time she had passed by, wondering if she was ready to order or at least get a drink. "Miss Ashfield called. She says she is a couple of minutes away and that if you wish to order, you may do so now."
"Oh." Cordelia almost hoped she had been ditched, then grimaced at the thought. No, it was better to get it over with. In an effort to keep her nerves from overtaking her, she blurted the most expensive thing she could find on the menu, hoping she didn't look like an idiot. "Can I get the wagyu steak?"
"Yes. How would you like it cooked?"
She had always heard that wagyu was best cooked medium rare over a grill. She prayed to the goddesses that her mother had told her right and she wasn't just bullshitting her over breakfast that one morning. "Grilled medium rare, if that's possible."
"Of course. What would you like as an appetizer?"
"The Osetra caviar, with edible flowers. Hold the gold shavings, please."
"And for dessert?"
"What would you suggest?" Inwardly, Cordelia was having an aneurysm at the receipt she was no doubt going to get back at the end of this. Her mind was spinning with so many zeroes that she couldn't pick out any more food, scared to add even more zeros to her tab. Her mother was going to have a duck when she found out.
"Miss Ashfield always has the twenty-four carat Mithai Magic when she stops by." The waitress' tone was suggestive, hinting that was what she should get. "However, if you need more time--"
"No, I'll take the Mithai Magic." Cordelia shut the menu and handed it over before she could have a heart attack. The waitress tucked it under her arm. "Water as a drink, please."
"Alright. I'll give your order to the chef. When Miss Ashfield arrives, please let her know that we have her usual ready unless she wants to change it."
The Donithorn witch nodded even though she was unsure if she would even remember what to tell her when she did get there. It was highly likely that the words would dry up in her throat and she would be unable to even speak, let alone manage a sentence that long.
A text message distracted her from her worry. Eyebrows raised, she fished out her cell phone from her purse, scanning the name that popped up.
'Emilia Bone: Hey, why aren't you at home?'
Before she could answer, another text chimed through.
'Emilia Bone: Oooh, nevermind, your girl toy just told me you're having lunch with Beatrix Ashfield. Give me all the details later.'
Blinking rapidly, she had to wonder why Emilia was at her house--better yet, why was Briella?
"Is everything alright?"
In front of her, holding a menu halfheartedly and staring her down with an eyebrow raised, was Beatrix Ashfield herself. Her long silver-gray hair hung down to her waist in beautiful shining sheets and her eyes, as silver as her mother's, were sharp and fixed on her face. It felt like she was looking into the face of a hawk, bristling and prepared to strike.
"Yes. Everything's fine." Cordelia applauded herself for not stuttering and shoved her phone back in her purse. "You wanted to see me?"
"About several things, actually." Beatrix watched as Cordelia's eyebrows turned downward in confusion. "It's nothing bad, don't worry. I wanted to get your opinion on these designs and set a date for your measurements sometime."
The Donithorn heir couldn't help but let her mind drift towards the gutter. Beatrix had always been her first 'girl crush' before she even knew she was bisexual; while the woman herself would never know that, it didn't help that the old crush was flaring up again in vain hope. This is just ridiculous.
"Oh, right. Are those the designs?" Cordelia pointed towards a leather folio on the table, just to get her to look away and give her heart a break. "I expected your mother to be the one doing the designs when I met her this morning."
"Most people do." Cordelia watched something dark drift over Beatrix's eyes. It disappeared just as quickly. She produced a small stack of thick paper, each one feeling expensive and heavy. "Here. These are the designs for the shroud, first--there are dress designs below those, too, if you haven't bought one yet."
"Really?" The Donithorn girl gaped at each intricate design drawn upon the paper. They were all obviously made with her in mind, down to the black hair colored in with black marker or pencil. The shroud was supposed to be white, but she could see where Beatrix had snuck in a hint of color to keep it from washing her skin tone out--bright reds underneath open panels, a black border on the neckline, with additional lace options she could pick from. "These are amazing! I couldn't possibly choose one today--"
"You don't have to," Beatrix laughed. "This is just a meeting. You can decide over them until next time."
"Really? I'm partial to this red, white, and black one, but this one seems to be more me--"
They spoke about the designs even well after they had been served lunch. Beatrix made small notes whenever Cordelia told her about something she didn't like about a dress, or a part on the shroud that would look better on another design. By the time Cordelia made it through the entire stack, Beatrix was glancing at her planner with a small frown.
"I'm afraid I'll have to cut this meeting short." She tucked her planner back into her folio and smiled, taking one last sip of her tea--Cordelia got a faint whiff of camellia off of it--and leaving a red lipstick stain on the rim. She didn't bother wiping it away and tossed a napkin over the top of her plate, situating her knife and fork just-so and waving to the waitress. "I have to meet with a client downtown in a few hours. Will you be alright if I pay for your food?"
"I--No, but I don't think I could let you pay over thirteen thousand dollars for my food." Cordelia stood up hastily, black hair falling over her shoulder. She wasn't quite aware of the height difference between them until she was close enough to touch her. Even in five inch stilettos, Beatrix was a little taller than her and she only wore crystal encrusted flats to match with her outfit. "Here, let me just..."
"No." The Ashfield witch snatched up the leather book before Cordelia could blink, tucking her credit card into it and handing it off to the waitress who looked just as surprised as Cordelia did. "I'm well aware of the Donithorn coven's financial situation. Mother may hide many things from us, but that wasn't one of them. Let me cover it. You can pay me back during our next meeting."
"Next meeting?" Cordelia blinked. "When will that be?"
Beatrix stared at her for an unusually long time. Then, she tilted her head, mentally going over significant dates and deadlines. "I have an opening for next week. It'll be between shootings for Witch Monthly, but I can squeeze you in during my lunch."
She agreed before even thinking twice about it. "Of course. Should I bring anything?"
"Just yourself." Beatrix paused to look at the waitresses' returning form, accepting the book and pulling her card and the receipt out in a smooth flourish. Without caring if anyone was looking, she shoved it all in her bra and hoisted her folio under her arm to rest against her hip. "Oh, and your girlfriend. I need her measurements too."
"Briella?"
"If that's her name, yes. She's coming to the ascension, isn't she? She'll need a dress. It'll no doubt be better than showing up in something she bought from J. C. Penny's clearance section." Beatrix's eyes narrowed, those silver eyes dangerous slits. "And, from what I hear, she doesn't need any more embarrassing headlines on the tabloids than she already has."
Cordelia watched as the Ashfield woman walked away without even waiting for a reply. On one hand, she understood where Beatrix was coming from. Briella wasn't in the best place mentally; between everyone clamoring for details on her father's affair and the paparazzi taking pictures of her around every corner, she hated even stepping outside. On the other, a place deep within her welled up with anger at the well placed barb towards Briella's modest upbringing. She should have slapped the witch for that, but she could understand that, too.
Standing in the middle of the restaurant, she didn't even notice when someone bumped into her from behind. She stumbled, but a hand--strong, firm, and tipped with deceptively sharp nails--caught her by the shoulder before she could twist and fall.
"Sorry. I wasn't paying attention to where I was going."
Cordelia stared at the beautiful monstrosity of a woman with wide eyes as she righted herself. If she wasn't in a committed relationship, she would have dropped to her knees and begged the goddess before her to let her take her on a date. While that wasn't exactly part of her 'cool, elegant' persona she developed for the media, she still felt the urge to do it.
A long, wild mane of burnt gold curls obscured most of the light around the woman's head. It was artfully put together, combined with silver pins and jewels to contrast the saturation of her hair and skin. She looked like a lioness personified; even her eyes were a caramel yellow, striking and fierce.
"It's fine," Cordelia managed. "I was the one standing in the middle of the aisle."
The woman smiled. "All is good then."
As she swept towards the exit with more grace than was possibly human, Cordelia cursed her luck.
What were the odds of meeting two demons in one day?
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