"Magic seems to cover for any number of sins," Irene offered, having a good idea as to what Eliot had done to fix Jon's suit as she glanced at his trousers' cut. "I'm lovely. Less glittery than you, though I'm not sure whether I should be jealous no one insisted upon glittering me."

Privately, she kind of figured it was a compliment. Irene'd brought her own brand of magic, and it was the art of looking hot in tailored clothes all on her own.

"And you? Having fun?" she added, a touch more sincere.