STREGINA ROSSA: The Woman at the Hotel Bar

STREGINA ROSSA The Woman at the Hotel Bar The first thing Rebecca noticed about the woman who took the empty stool beside her was the green. Not ordinary green, not the cheerful green of spring dresses or the pale green of expensive cocktails, but a darkness so rich and deep that the flowing silk of her gown appeared almost black until the golden lights above the hotel bar caught its folds, revealing emerald highlights and delicate embroidery that seemed to shimmer as she moved. Then Rebecca noticed the hair. Long, magnificent copper-red hair, falling in thick waves over the stranger's shoulders and halfway down her back, framing a face of extraordinary beauty and an expression of such effortless confidence that Rebecca found herself staring before remembering her manners. The woman settled onto the stool, crossed her legs beneath the high slit of her gown, and placed one exquisitely manicured hand on the polished marble counter. A dark green gemstone glittered on her finger. "Hello," she said. Rebecca smiled politely. "Hi." The woman turned toward her, and for one strange moment Rebecca had the uncomfortable sensation that she was being examined by somebody who already knew everything about her. "So," the stranger said pleasantly, "you're coming upstairs with me." Rebecca blinked. "I'm sorry?" "Upstairs," the woman repeated, gesturing vaguely toward the private elevators beyond the lobby. "To my room. I thought that was reasonably clear." Rebecca gave a startled little laugh. "Excuse me? I'm here with my boyfri—" And then she looked directly into the woman's eyes. Something happened. It was not a flash of light, not a sudden dizziness, nor anything Rebecca could later describe as supernatural. It was simply that the stranger's face, already beautiful, became impossibly fascinating, and the idea of turning away from her suddenly seemed like abandoning the most extraordinary opportunity of her life. Her voice faltered. "I—I wish I c-could, but I'm here with my boyfriend, and we're just having a quick drink before we go home, and..." She stopped, thoroughly embarrassed by the way her words had tangled themselves together. The red-haired woman smiled. "Your boyfriend has left." Rebecca frowned. "No, he hasn't. He's just gone outside to take a telephone call." "He isn't coming back." "He would never leave me sitting here alone." "Wouldn't he?" Rebecca reached for her cocktail, more to occupy her trembling hands than because she wanted another drink. "Look, I don't know who you are, but—" Her telephone chimed. She glanced at the screen. Daniel: Sorry babe, my car got stolen and I have to deal with that. Take an Uber home. I'll call you tomorrow. Rebecca stared. Then she read the message again. Then a third time. "What the hell?" The stranger took a leisurely sip of her drink. "Something wrong?" "My boyfriend's car has been stolen." "How unfortunate." "He wants me to take an Uber home!" "Does he?" Rebecca looked toward the hotel entrance. "He's just leaving me here! We came together!" "Apparently you're leaving separately." Rebecca turned back to the woman. "Did you know this was going to happen?" "I told you he had left." "How?" The stranger's smile widened slightly. "My dear, there are many things I know." Rebecca looked at her phone again, then began typing furiously. Are you serious? You just left me here? She hit send. The reply came almost immediately. Can't talk. Police. "Oh, for God's sake!" Rebecca dropped the phone onto the counter. "Eight months," she muttered. "Eight months?" "That's how long I've been dating that idiot." "An unfortunate investment." Despite herself, Rebecca laughed. "You really don't believe in sugarcoating things, do you?" "I find life much more interesting without unnecessary disguises." Rebecca gave her a skeptical look. "Says the woman dressed like an extremely expensive sorceress." The stranger laughed softly. "How observant." "Seriously, what is that outfit? Some kind of designer Halloween thing?" "Do you dislike it?" "No! It's gorgeous. I've never seen anything like it. And those shoes..." Rebecca glanced down toward the floor. The stranger wore impossibly high, pointed dark green stilettos that matched her gown perfectly. "Oh, wow. Those must have cost a fortune." "They were made for me." "Of course they were," Rebecca said, laughing again. "Why wouldn't they be?" For the first time that evening, the stranger offered her hand. "Stregina Rossa." Rebecca accepted it. "Rebecca Miller." Stregina held her fingers for a moment longer than was customary. "A pleasure, Rebecca." Rebecca suddenly became conscious of the woman's touch, the warmth of her hand, the faint fragrance of something unfamiliar and intoxicating, and the extraordinary intensity of those green eyes. She withdrew her hand slowly. "So," she said, attempting to recover her composure, "do you always introduce yourself to strange women by telling them they're coming upstairs with you?" "Only when I find them interesting." "And you find me interesting?" "Very." Rebecca swallowed. "That's rather direct." "I have discovered that women spend an astonishing amount of time wondering what other people want from them. I prefer to eliminate the uncertainty." "And what exactly do you want from me?" Stregina turned fully toward her. "Your company tonight." Rebecca's heart began beating faster. "Just like that?" "Just like that." "But you don't even know me." "I know you have been waiting twenty-seven minutes for a man who spent most of your dinner looking at his telephone. I know you bought that lovely black leather skirt yesterday because you wanted him to notice you, and I know he didn't. I know you spent forty minutes choosing those beautiful heels, only for him to complain that you walked too slowly." Rebecca's mouth fell open. "How could you possibly know all that?" Stregina's expression softened. "More importantly, Rebecca, why would you wish to spend another evening with somebody who doesn't notice how beautiful you are?" Rebecca stared at her. Nobody had said anything like that to her in months. She looked down at her outfit: the short black leather skirt, the fitted ivory blouse, the expensive heels she had purchased with entirely too much enthusiasm, and the little silver anklet Daniel hadn't even noticed. "You think I'm beautiful?" "Very." Rebecca blushed. "You're making this extremely difficult." "What am I making difficult?" "Saying no." Stregina studied her for a moment, then gently released the hand Rebecca hadn't realized she had been holding again. "Then allow me to make something very clear. You may say no, Rebecca. You may finish your drink, call your boyfriend, go home, and never see me again." Rebecca looked surprised. "Really?" "Of course. An invitation is not a command." Rebecca glanced at the stranger's crescent-moon necklace. "Then why did you sound so certain?" "Because I am accustomed to recognizing possibilities." "And what possibility do you see in me?" Stregina leaned closer, her voice dropping almost to a whisper. "A woman who has forgotten what it feels like to be cherished." For several seconds Rebecca said nothing. Then she looked down at her phone. Another message from Daniel. Don't wait up. This may take all night. Rebecca read it, shook her head, and turned the screen facedown. "You know what's funny?" "Tell me." "Ten minutes ago, if another woman had asked me to go upstairs with her, I would have thought she was completely insane." "And now?" Rebecca looked at Stregina's beautiful face, her magnificent hair, her emerald gown, and those absurdly elegant heels. "Now I'm wondering what your room looks like." Stregina smiled. "Would you care to find out?" Rebecca laughed nervously. "You're not going to tell me?" "Some discoveries are best made personally." Rebecca took a long breath. Then she surprised herself. "All right." Stregina raised one eyebrow. "All right?" "I'd like to see your room." "And?" Rebecca smiled. "And perhaps stay for another drink." "An excellent beginning." Stregina rose from her stool. Rebecca watched the dark green silk fall gracefully around her legs and realized, with a mixture of excitement and disbelief, that the mysterious woman was even more impressive standing than sitting. Stregina extended her arm. Rebecca slipped her own through it. For a moment she simply stood there, looking at the extraordinary woman beside her. Then she smiled. "I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing." Stregina's expression became unexpectedly gentle. "Then we shall make certain you enjoy discovering it." They began walking toward the private elevators. Rebecca glanced down at their contrasting outfits—her short black leather skirt and silver-buckled stilettos beside Stregina's flowing emerald silk and towering green heels—and suddenly felt as though she had become somebody important, somebody worth escorting through the most expensive hotel in the city. Several guests turned to look as they passed. Rebecca instinctively straightened her back. Stregina noticed. "Enjoying the attention?" "A little," Rebecca admitted. "You should." They reached the elevators. A uniformed attendant immediately stepped forward. "Good evening, Miss Rossa." "Good evening, Thomas." "Your penthouse?" "Please." Rebecca turned toward her. "Penthouse?" Stregina gave her an amused glance. "Would you have preferred the fourth floor?" "No! I just—" The elevator doors opened. Inside was a private compartment finished in dark polished wood, brass, and cream marble. Rebecca stepped in beside Stregina, still holding her arm. As the doors began closing, Rebecca's telephone chimed one final time. Daniel: Babe, have you ordered the Uber yet? Rebecca looked at the message. Then she looked at Stregina. Then, very deliberately, she switched off her phone. "No," she said softly. Stregina glanced toward her. "No?" Rebecca smiled, her nervousness beginning to give way to something wonderfully unfamiliar. "No Uber tonight." Stregina's answering smile was magnificent. "Indeed." The elevator began its silent ascent. Rebecca watched the illuminated floors pass on the little brass display, then glanced at the magnificent red-haired woman standing beside her. "Stregina?" "Yes, darling?" "Can I ask you something?" "Anything." Rebecca hesitated. "Would it be terribly forward if I kissed you?" Stregina turned toward her, a delighted smile slowly spreading across her face. "My dear Rebecca, I was beginning to wonder whether I would have to ask you myself." Rebecca laughed, slipped both arms around Stregina's waist, and rose on her high heels to kiss her. It was a gentle kiss at first, but Rebecca soon forgot about the elevator, the penthouse, and the boyfriend who had abandoned her downstairs. When they finally separated, she was smiling so broadly that Stregina couldn't help laughing. "Well?" the witch asked. Rebecca looked into those extraordinary green eyes. "Could this elevator possibly go any faster?" Stregina smiled. Somewhere beneath the folds of her emerald gown, a tiny golden crescent shimmered. "My darling," she whispered, "you have no idea what I can do." And the elevator continued upward. THE DETAIL NOBODY AT THE BAR UNDERSTOOD Daniel's car had not been stolen. It was perfectly safe, parked exactly where he had left it. But when he stepped outside the hotel, he had become absolutely convinced that the vehicle was missing, and by the time he contacted the police, he was so thoroughly confused that he could no longer remember which parking garage he had used. It would take him until three in the morning to discover his mistake. Stregina Rossa, meanwhile, had a strict personal rule. She never stole another woman's heart. She simply preferred that inconvenient boyfriends find something else to occupy their evenings. And on this particular night, she had decided that a missing automobile would do nicely.