10. Sloan

CHAPTER 10

Sloan

"L ook. This isn't going to work. I've tried reaching out to her. I've gone and talked to her in person, and she won't cooperate. She says she'll get back to me and then ghosts me. She's leaving me on read, for fuck's sake. Daisy is impossible. Frankly, if this is how she wants to conduct herself, then this event is going to be a disaster," Sloan huffs into the phone.

Lachlan sighs through the connection. "I know she can be difficult. Trust me. She has a hard shell but is really the best person, aside from yourself, for the role."

They aren't going to let her out of this. It's like a high school group project all over again. Only, instead of Sloan being the one in the lead like usual, she's being left behind by the self-appointed leader who doesn't want to talk to the popular girl. She sighs. "Okay. How do I break through her shell?"

"You have to get her to trust you," Lachlan responds. She can practically hear his stupid smirk.

"And, oh great demon one, how do I go about doing that when she won't even talk to me?"

"Well, she likes cupcakes. That's probably a good place to start."

"You're so helpful," she retorts. "I need this, Lachlan. I need a win. I need to do something for myself. Do you think you can pull your horns out of your ass and actually help me?"

He snorts on the other end, frustrating her even more. Leaning back in her chair, she raises a hand, calling on a spark of magic, letting the silver current bounce and bolt between her fingers. The magic play helps her calm the tension in her body and gives it somewhere to focus.

"As much as I love horn play?—"

"Gross," Sloan interjects.

He continues, "I find that being persistent helps. Keep showing up. Keep messaging. She'll break eventually."

"Again, about as helpful as hitting my head against a cauldron," she mumbles.

"What was that?"

"Nothing. Thanks for the chat."

"Anytime, Sloan," he replies. As she is about to hang up, he says, "Oh, Petra said she and Daisy are going to The Dandelion this weekend to check out the venue for the event."

"Good for them?" Sloan replies, now bored and wanting to end this meaningless call. "I'm sure they'll have a grand time."

"I think so too. But it would be too bad if Petra couldn't make it, and someone else had to replace her," he says, letting the meaning behind his words hang between them. "Anyway, thought you should know."

"Thanks," she replies as he hangs up. Placing the phone on the desk, she continues playing with the silver spark in her hand, forming it into a glowing ball and then back down to a tiny sizzling spark and rolling it between her fingers as she thinks. It took years for her to be able to have that kind of control over her power, to allow it out but keep a hold on it, preventing it from going wild. That focus is now something that helps her think. Before long, her phone vibrates. Picking it up, she sees a text message from Petra.

Petra

It appears I'm coming down with something.

It would be a shame for my spot at The Dandelion to go to waste ;)

Meet Daisy there on Friday at 3:00 pm.

Sloan

That's so unfortunate and yet so kind of you to think of me.

Will you tell Daisy ahead of time?

I'll let her know I can't make it on Friday, but whatever else happens is out of my control

Thanks. I wouldn't want her to try to cancel.

I understand.

Have fun!

Thank you.

With thoughts of how this ambush of Daisy could go, playing every possible scenario through her mind a dozen times, Sloan admits to herself that this is likely her only option. Is it ideal? Absolutely not. What would be ideal is having a working partner who actually wants to work together. Instead, she's plotting with Daisy's friends and trying to find a loophole in her evasiveness. Sloan feels like a bat looking for the tiniest crack to hide in, hoping it will lead to a bigger, better opening. Until then, she'll take what she can get.

"Sloan!" her mother calls down the hall, pulling her attention back to work.

"Coming," Sloan replies as she enters the hallway.

* * *

"Explain it to me again. Why are you going to spend the weekend with her ?" Francesca asks.

Sloan and Franny have been friends since they were little. Despite this, Sloan has, more recently, realized that she doesn't particularly like her. She hangs out with Franny more out of comfort than similarity and actual friendship.

Never one for having many friends, Sloan couldn't be particularly choosy about who she associated with. Growing up, Sloan was always the popular one everyone wanted to be connected to because they felt it would benefit them in some way. People thought they would become popular and rich merely by association. Franny, though, saw through Sloan's pretentious facade and became not her best friend but one of her only friends.

Of course, Franny was also more than happy to reap the reward of being friends with a Wilks, but she didn't wave around the popularity badge. She didn't brag to all the others about the trips, the gifts, or the hired servants. No, she just went along with it. And as Franny's parents became closer to Sloan's parents, they also started to benefit. Soon enough, the Wardwells were at the top of the tower alongside the Wilkses. With position came power; with power came money, and with money, Franny became obnoxious and insufferable. But with already so few friends, Sloan stuck around. She couldn't risk being seen as a loner. She learned early on from her parents that being a loner would make her an outcast, and Wilkses were never outcasts.

Rolling her eyes as she packs her overnight bag, Sloan replies, "I'm spending the weekend at The Dandelion because I've been assigned this project, and I'm going to see it through. Like I always do. I didn't choose to work with Daisy, but if we want to get this thing done, we need to figure out a way to work together."

"But, like, can't you call her?"

"As I said earlier, I've tried that. She's not responding. So I have to corner her."

"I always knew she was an animal," Franny retorts before laughing too loudly at her own joke. "Be careful you don't startle her, or she may bolt like the gremlin she is."

Sloan rolls her eyes again. At this rate, if Franny keeps talking, Sloan's eyes will become permanently stuck in the back of her head. Maybe someday she'll get the courage to tell her to simply shut up. She is almost certain there is not a thought in Franny's pretty little head worth sharing with the world. Honestly, Sloan is surprised there is even a thought inside Franny's head at all.

"What am I supposed to do this weekend?" Franny whines.

"I don't know." Sloan sighs. "Read a book?"

Franny breaks into a fit of laughter. "Please," she wheezes. "Nothing good ever comes from a book."

Sloan stares into space for a moment as she processes that sentence. Nope. She's now certain. Not a single one of Franny's thoughts ever needs to be verbalized. "I don't know. I'm sure you'll think of someone to keep you busy."

A mischievous grin forms on Franny's face, and Sloan wants no part of whatever is behind it.

"Anyway," Sloan says, looking at her phone, "I need to get going."

"Fine. I want all the details of how horrible it was when you get back."

"Sure thing," Sloan replies, grabbing her bag, sliding on a pair of wedges, and heading out the door, leaving Franny talking to herself. Despite saying she's leaving, she knows Franny will continue talking to herself for a while before realizing Sloan is no longer there. "I really need to find some new friends," she mutters to herself while backing out of the driveway.

Watching the lake fade into the distance in her review mirror, Sloan runs through what she plans to say to Daisy. She initially thought about making it seem like a coincidence that they both happened to be staying there at the same time, but didn't think she could pull that off. Then she considered flat-out telling her that Lachlan and Petra set her up—but she didn't think driving a potential wedge in their friendship would be a good idea. Instead, she settled on going with a version of the truth.

Years of family expectations and being seen as a pawn for everyone else have taught her to always remain guarded. That practice has been hard to shake, and she routinely finds her words coming out harsher than she intends, which means she offends others more often than she befriends them. But, today, she comes armed with cupcakes, hoping that will win her some points with Daisy.

She parks near the back of the parking lot, again concerned about startling Daisy and her making a run for it. She waits inside her car until she sees Daisy, with her bright purple hair, tight-fitting jeans that pleasantly hug her derriere, and dark mesh top, enter The Dandelion.

Daisy is stepping up to the counter when Sloan enters. Sloan keeps far enough away not to intrude but close enough that she can still hear the conversation.

"Welcome, Miss Hale, to The Dandelion Inn and Spa. We are so pleased to have you stay with us this weekend," the receptionist, some kind of faerie based on her pointed ears, says.

"Thank you," Daisy responds, leaning in to check the name tag on her chest, "Flo."

Looking at the computer in front of her, the receptionist replies, "It looks like we have another guest marked down to stay with you. Will they be arriving shortly, or will you want to leave a key here at the desk for them?"

"Ah. Unfortunately, my friend who was supposed to join me has had to cancel at the last minute. So it's only me."

"Not a problem, Miss Hale."

Sloan steps forward. "Actually, I will be staying with you this weekend."