Page 12 of Impractical Magic

“I definitely can’t, Mrs. Melrose,” he hollered back.

After the front door closed behind him, Luna elbowed her sister in the ribs. “Scar! Why didn’t you make him stay?! He clearly wanted your approval.”

“I . . . uh.” Scarlett shook her head like a puppy just out of the bath. “I don’t know, I mean . . . He was rude to me earlier.”

“Oh don’t be childish,” said Mama. “I’m sure that’s not true.”

“It is true! And, also, it’s weird to see him again. My brain froze, I guess.”

Delilah made a loud retching sound. “Somebody pass the wine.”

Mama chuckled. “I confess, I’m relieved it’s just us for tonight. Nate’s right—we should get to know each other again.” She reached for another serving of tagine. “So, Scarlett, tell us about your glamorous life in San Francisco. What have you been up to?”

“Yeah.” Delilah drained the wine bottle into her glass. “What has kept you so busy that you haven’t been home in ten years?”

“Now, Delilah . . .” Mama said warningly.

“Okay . . .” Scarlett began, “I work in brand management. My title is senior SEO analyst.”

“Senior!” Luna exclaimed. “That sounds impressive. What does a senior SEO analyst do exactly?”

“It’s a bit tricky to explain . . . Let’s say, just as an example, that you wanted to advertise the inn online.”

Delilah gasped. “We would never!”

“Of course not. It’s just an—”

“Witches don’t internet.”

“I know that. I’m trying to—”

“The internet is full of so-called wiccans,” Delilah muttered. “Sharing so-called spells on so-called FaceSpace.”

“It’s not called FaceSpace, and—”

“Amateurs who can’t tell a pentagram from a pentacle.”

Scarlett went to take a restorative sip of wine, only to see her wineglass glitch into a chalice of mead. “You know what,” she sighed. “Never mind. I work in an office, Mama, doing office-y things.” The glitch happened again and Scarlett’s wine returned.

“Delilah.” Mama frowned. “Let your sister finish. Go ahead, Scarlett. Let’s say we wanted to internet the inn.”

“Um . . .” Scarlett started to correct her but let it go. “Sure. My point is, if you had a website, it would be my job as SEO analyst to—”

“Senior analyst,” corrected Luna proudly.

“Senior. Thanks, Luna. It would be my job to ensure that our inn would be the most visible one in the search results.”

“Like a notoriety spell?” asked Luna. “To increase fame?”

“No,” said Scarlett, her patience waning. “Bits of computer code called spiders catalog all the sites on the internet, and it’s my job to maximize the site’s appeal to the spiders.”

Luna clapped excitedly. “Oooh, insectomancy! I studied with a coven in Penguin who did amazing spellwork with weaver ants.”

“Nope, that’s not at all what—”

“I have a cape they made me, actually. An army of tiny seamstresses.”

“There’s no spellwork!” exclaimed Scarlett. “It’s just good-old-fashioned, non-magical work work.”