The Corner Store Witch

3. You Meet at an Inn

Leone stopped at the red light and side-eyed the wizard that rode shotgun. Abinar had cleaned his face up, but he still sported a swollen, purple nose. He had taken the concept of a car calmly, only screaming when she'd started the engine, but now he stared sedately out the window, watching the strip malls of Phoenix scroll past like an ugly movie.

She'd debated stopping at Walmart or Kohl's or anywhere to get Abinar something that wasn't so clearly a shoddy wizard's robe. They'd left the possible-exploding-and-definitely-stolen wizard's staff in the back of the store room. She didn't want to take the chance of it detonating in the car, but she didn't want to leave it outside and risk it getting stolen, either. At least, if it exploded overnight, no one would be around to get hurt. Her shop—her livelihood, her career—would get wrecked. That was freaking all.

"Are you sure we shouldn't have cleaned up...organized things...it's a mess and what if we don't have time tomorrow," Shandi murmured. Leone had decided to leave the mess as it was—mostly to get the hell out of there before anyone else fell into her shop—and she was tired and didn't want to reset the displays again today. That had upset Shandi, who didn't understand that the mess could wait.

Leone sighed and peered into the rear view mirror. Courtney sipped the rest of her giant soda from lunch, and Shandi fidgeted, picking at her cuticles.

"It'll be fine, Shandi," Leone said, trying to keep her voice level and hide her annoyance. "I own the place, so we don't have to open until I say so. No one's in trouble."

Except maybe my dumb ass, she thought. She was the genius that was driving a wizard home to meet her family.

Her parents lived in a sprawling, outlying suburban neighborhood in the foothills outside of Phoenix. Abinar stared at the mountains in the distance and rested his forehead against the glass windowpane. He'd kept silent after they left the shop, and Leone didn't know how to make small talk—even with normal people let alone an actual wizard. They pulled into her parents' wide drive that could fit three cars. She and Lakeisha parked outside, and her parents kept their nicer, newer cars in the triple stall garage.

Leone killed the engine and turned to Abinar. "We'll meet my mom, so just let me do the talking."

Courtney snorted, blowing bubbles into her drink. Leone glared at her. She said, "One of us will do the talking. People don't interdimensionally crash into my shop every day."

"And don't mention the staff," Shandi said, wagging a finger at Abinar.

"Or being a wizard," Courtney said. "Her mom's a lawyer, so say you're something yuppie like an accountant."

"Don't say that," Leone snapped, glaring at Courtney. "Say nothing. You're my friend who does cosplay, and you stopped by my shop today."

Abinar frowned. He said, "Are you a local lord? You said that place is yours."

Courtney chuckled. Leone met Abinar's honest, questioning stare. She hadn't any idea of what government existed in his world. Not the faintest clue. The fantasy worlds she was familiar with always involved feudalism or monarchy, so it didn't surprise her private property was a foreign idea to him. She cleared her throat and said, "No, I'm not a lord...lady...whatever. Everyone here can own property. It's normal."

Abinar gave her a half-cocked smirk and shook his head. He asked, "You don't pay homage to anybody?"

"I own my damn shop," Leone said. Abinar sunk into the seat, quelled by her outburst. Leone thrust open the door and stomped towards the garage. This was the second time today someone had thought she didn't own Pulp Magic. Was it so unbelievable, even for a dimensionally challenged wizard, to believe a black woman could run a business?