Unsuspecting Trouble (The Inscrutable Paris Beaufont Book 3)

by Sarah Noffke

  “Well, still, she’s always had that mature look,” Rudolf argued.

  “But they are okay?” Aunt Sophia asked Paris.

  “I guess,” she answered. “I mean, how would I know? I don’t know them. I explained that the Deathly Shadow was gone and told them who I was. They promptly went into shock, I brought them here, and that was it.”

  “The Deathly Shadow is really gone?” Uncle Clark asked, always serious.

  “Yes,” Subner answered, saving Paris the trouble of having to do so. “The container has been dealt with. The technology that opened the vortex was destroyed. All of you can forget that other worlds exist. It’s best if you do.”

  “In turn, you’ll get a sense of humor, right?” King Rudolf asked.

  “Doubtful,” Subner answered. “Maybe in another world, the version of me is cheerful.”

  King Rudolf turned to his daughter and patted her shoulder. “I vote we get that Subner from another world.”

  Captain Morgan ignored him, too busy checking her Instagram.

  Papa Creola interrupted all that when he came through the back door of the Fantastical Armory, looking around at the many faces all standing at attention.

  He let out a breath of relief. “They are fine. Well, they will be. They need to rest.”

  “Well, maybe next time an attack will take them out.” Subner sounded disappointed in him.

  “However,” Papa Creola continued, ignoring his assistant. “They’ll need much time to recover. In that interim, I don’t want too much stimulation that overwhelms them.” He gestured at the crowd. “You all are too much stimulation. Seeing your faces after fifteen years apart could throw them into a shock they won’t recover from, so we’re going to keep you away.”

  There were many voices of protest, but when Papa Creola threw up his hands, everyone went silent. “However, there’s one person who Liv and Stefan must see. The only person who will help them heal, rather than cause them confusion and trauma.” Then the father of time pointed straight at Paris and waved her forward. “Come with me, child. Your parents need you with them.”

  Chapter Seventy-Six

  Paris didn’t know what she expected. Maybe she thought she could walk through the door at the back of the Fantastical Armory into Papa Creola’s private office. She didn’t expect to have to climb down what felt like a million stairs.

  She was nearly winded by the time she got down the bazillion flights to a warm basement-type room where two strangers who weren’t supposed to be strangers were curled up together on a sofa in front of a fire.

  “She’s as slow as you are,” Liv said to her husband as Paris approached.

  He glanced at Liv and smiled. “Well, she also has my eyes and charm.”

  “But my hair and sass,” Liv argued.

  Paris took the seat opposite her parents and cleared her throat to get their attention, although she thought that shouldn’t be necessary. She still couldn’t believe they were here. It would take time to process this. The reunion was definitely not going as she had envisioned.

  Her parents didn’t look as on edge as before when they’d stepped through the vortex. They looked drunk and ready to pass out.

  “Sorry, I’d be clobbering you with kisses, but Papa gave us something to make us sleep.” Liv was lying in Stefan’s arms with a blanket stretched across them. “That dumb dork thinks we need to take a few days off.”

  “You’ve been gone from this world for fifteen years,” Paris admitted, looking them over, still not sure if that moment was real.

  Stefan looked over his shoulder at the stairs. “I don’t think you’re allowed to say that. Papa thinks it will upset us.”

  Paris nodded, feeling much more nervous than she expected.

  Liv’s eyes closed partway, but Paris noticed how pretty she was. She could stare at her mother for days. She had nice features that weren’t too pronounced or too understated. Her father, well, he was a knockout, if he wasn’t her father. Although they were her parents and gone for fifteen years, their time in the vortex had done a weird number on them, and it seemed they hadn’t aged a day.

  “I’m sorry.” Liv opened her eyes. “All I want is to learn more about what happened. About your last fifteen years. To apologize. To see everyone. But stupid Papa has other plans for us.”

  Paris smiled at her exhausted parents, who had a lot to learn and assimilate. It would take time and would no doubt be overwhelming. “It’s okay. All you need to know is that a lot of people worked really hard to get you two back. Apparently, you’re a big deal.”

  Liv shook her head against Stefan’s chest. “The only thing awesome about us was you. I’m so sorry we missed so much of your life.”

  “You didn’t.” Paris leaned forward. “My life is just starting, especially because you’re both back.”

  That seemed to wake both of her very sleepy parents, who were struggling so hard to stay awake in each other’s arms.

  “Guinevere,” Liv said and blinked as if suddenly realizing something. “You don’t go by that, do you? You said your name was Paris.”

  Paris nodded. “Uncle John calls me Pare.”

  Her mother smiled. “Pare, I’m sorry we missed so much, but now that we’re back, we’re going to make the most of it. We want our life with you.”

  Paris nodded. “Yes, that’s all I want.” She stood, feeling as if her parents were about to fall asleep again and wanting to give them peace. There would be time to catch up properly. Hopefully, there would be a lifetime together.

  Stefan reached out for Paris when she tried to tip-toe past them, his grace breath-taking. “Pare, did you become a Warrior for the House of Fourteen in our absence?”

  She shook her head. “No. I’m becoming a fairy godmother.”

  Paris wasn’t sure what she expected, but both her parents smiled, closing their eyes and holding each other. “That sounds perfect for our child,” Stefan said, pressing Liv close to him. “Bringing love to the world is the best job I can think of.”

  Liv nodded. “I knew you’d make us proud, Pare. Will you turn out the lights and have waffles ready in the morning, please?”

  “Yes.” Paris tip-toed to the stairs, rather giddy that her life was so weird and so awesome. She really wouldn’t have it any other way.

  Paris thought her parents were asleep, but when she took her first step up the stairs, her mother said, “We love you.”

  Her father quickly added, “So very much.”

  “Familia Est Sempiternum,” Liv said, on the verge of passing out, but still evoking passion into the phrase.

  Stefan nodded. “Familia Est Sempiternum.”

  Paris smiled, feeling her chest warm like something deep inside her was slowly being repaired. “Family really is forever.”

  And with the conclusion of her words her parents fell asleep at once.

  That felt like the perfect ending to a very long chapter in Paris’ life. Short, sweet, and leaving it open for so much more to happen.

  Chapter Seventy-Seven

  “Love recovered that much, so quickly?” Paris asked, looking at the love meter on the wall in the headmistress’ office in Happily Ever After College. It was at nearly thirty percent, which was much better than the day before, or the week before, or any time before that Paris had seen.

  She didn’t feel recuperated after the long night, but she needed to find out how things went with her big mission. If she was honest, Paris probably wasn’t going to sleep for a while after all the new excitement in her life.

  “Well, Grayson McGregor and Amelia Rose fell in love tonight,” Willow Starr explained.

  “They fell in love,” Paris said, so excited and also overwhelmed.

  “Everything fell into place,” Mae Ling stated. “It was as if someone knew what they needed and put it all into place.” She gave Paris a pointed look.

  “And their companies?” Paris asked.

  “They’re dissolving them and already in talks about starting one to
gether,” Chef Ash said on the other side of Paris. “Think of the great things they’ll do with a company together.”

  “Think of their kids,” Christine gushed. “Those will be some hot children.”

  Everyone laughed.

  “I had my doubts,” Headmistress Starr began. “However, this proves that sometimes we need to use untraditional methods to fix problems or create matches. You brought us this plan, Paris, and it worked. For a long time, we’ve tried to teach match-making from old methods. More and more, I feel that we have to approach things with new thinking. The problem is, I don’t know what that is. Fortunately, I feel as though I have resources.”

  She looked at the three sitting in front of her desk. “I’m not saying that you all get to run missions,” the headmistress continued. “But I want you all advising. I want this college to take a bold turn. If it works, then great, the love meter recovers. If it doesn’t…well, I’m not sure we have much to lose at this point. Love has never been at an all-time low before or recovered so fast.”

  “I think,” Mae Ling began in a speculative tone, “that means sometimes we need something unexpected to put us on track. Who knows? Maybe that means we can achieve successes with love that we’ve never experienced.”

  The fairy godmother looked straight at Paris, and she couldn’t help but feel like the other woman was charging her with a new unsaid responsibility. No matter what. No matter what her family life brought or the new world she’d experience, she’d accept. Paris wanted this. She wanted to be a fairy godmother more than ever. How could she not want to bring more love to this world when she saw her parents and how much they loved each other and her? She wanted that for everyone.

  Chapter Seventy-Eight

  Paris and Faraday were quiet for a long time in her room before she broke the spell and spoke.

  “You going to tell me these secrets?” Paris finally said from her bed, the perfect amount of moonlight streaming through her room in the Fairy Godmother Estate.

  “I get that people are crazy about donuts, but I don’t get them,” Faraday said from her sock drawer. “There. I said it. Gosh that felt good. Donuts are weird.”

  Paris laughed. “Seriously, you strange-ass squirrel. That’s the secret you had to confess?”

  Faraday sighed. “No, but I have lots of secrets. Weird enough, most of them are about food. Like, butter. Why is everyone obsessed with it?”

  “You are the weirdest.” Paris pulled the covers up to her chest and finally felt sleepy, almost as if Papa Creola had given her something to sleep, too.

  “I admit, I have other secrets,” Faraday stated.

  “Are you going to tell them to me?” she asked.

  “Do you want me to tell you now?”

  “No,” Paris answered honestly. “I’ve had enough for one day. Actually, for a lifetime. But what about tomorrow or next week or this month? Sometime. Promise that you’ll tell me when I ask.”

  “Paris, I’ll tell you whatever you want whenever you want.”

  “Why?” she asked. “I don’t want your secrets tonight, but I want to know why you help me and are so loyal?”

  “Have you looked in the mirror?” he asked.

  “Are you saying because I’m hot?” she joked.

  He giggled. “No, Paris. I guess you’re kind of okay to look at. Honestly, I’m helping you because you’re good. You’re true. You’re someone I want as my friend. And if I’m going to tell my secrets to anyone, I think it should be you.”

  Paris pulled her covers tighter to her chest, feeling confused and happy and excited for the next day. She had parents who she had to get to know, who she wanted to know. Who she thought would be amazing and fun and probably teach her more than all the knowledge in the Great Library. She had a future with Happily Every After College that she couldn’t wait to pursue. She had friends who she never wanted to let go of…ever. For Paris, that was more than enough.

  “Okay, tell me your secrets later then.”

  “That is my promise.” Faraday buried more into her sock drawer.

  “Goodnight, Faraday.” Paris yawned. “Thanks for your help today.”

  “Goodnight, Pare,” the squirrel chirped. “Always and forever.”

  With that, the fairy godmother who was so much more than that fell asleep, happy and content for once, looking forward to all that she’d do to make the world better tomorrow and every day after that…like her parents.

  The Story Continues with The Shatterproof Magician

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  Sarah’s Author Notes

  April 20, 2021

  Thank you so much for reading and all the support. I swear, on the hard days, you all really cheer me up and remind me why I do this. I’ll go onto my Facebook group and you all are so nice about the books and even seem to think (with possible questionable judgement) that I’m sort of okay. I’m having that Sally Field moment. “You like me. You really, really like me.” Anyway, thanks for liking the books. That’s what counts. I portray myself as what I want you all to see. Make no mistake, in person, I’m usually a jerk. I wrote a couple of books about it. But I’m glad you all are nice to me. Thank you.

  Now let’s get down to business. There’s something important to address. Mike and I have been working together for four years. We’ve crafted eight series together. For those counting, and you know that I am, that’s currently sixty-three books. Why am I outlining all this? Is it because I’m about to get all sentimental?

  Hell nah!

  Sixty-three books later and Michael doesn’t even know how to spell my name! My name is Sarah. With an h. Without that, it doesn’t spell haras backwards. Thanks for really knowing the real me, Micheale. I’m sure you’ll come up with some excuse about how autocorrect messed it up in the last author notes spelling my name Sara. Well, I’ve been typing my name for a mighty long time and autocorrect has never been like, no I think you meant to say Sara, not Sarah. Actually more often than not, my name gets corrected to Satan… Is that weird?

  Don’t worry though, I’m going to let this name business go, because I’m the bigger person, Mikke.

  The things I do for you all, the reader... I got drooled on by a longhorn and a bison wiped its boogers on me. All for you!

  Actually, that’s not what happened entirely, although the booger part did. After a year and some change, I was finally able to return to Baton Rouge to see my family. My parents always plan adventures when we are reunited. One such adventure was a swamp tour, which I put into the Liv series when she meets the Sand Man. We’ve also done a harrowing trek through the Red Woods, where I was pretty certain we were going to fall off the side of a cliff because who needs guardrails on hairpin turn roads on top of mountains?! And then there was a weekend in Glacier National Park in Montana. In freaking January! That’s where I learned a healthy appreciation for the fact that I don’t have to shovel my driveway in LA. Those adventures also went into the books.

  So when my parents asked if I wanted to go on a safari at dawn while I was visiting, I jumped at the offer, saying, “Oh, think of the fodder!” See, I really do all this for you, the reader. You’re welcome.

  My stepmom wanted to do the first tour of the morning because the animals would be waking up and more importantly hungry. Turns out they were freaking starving!

  I’d just gotten back from Scotland and was waking up at three o’clock in the morning, so I wasn’t worried about getting up for the early tour. Actually, my question was, what will I do from three in morning until the sun rises and all you lazy bums wake up and join me?

  So we get on this jeep in the backwoods of Louisiana and drive out with a huge sack of food, plastic cups and wearing clean clothes. In hindsight, I didn’t really need to shower that morning.

  I’ll sum up the trip this way: the giraffes were peaceful, the bison knew nothing about personal space, a gazelle stole my cup and then mocked me, and a few dozen longhorns crammed their heads into our jeep jostling for food (which wil
l wake you up better than coffee).

  I, of course, included my adventures in this book as part of the meeting with Bermuda Laurens, the author of Magical Creatures. Pretty much what I put in the book is what happened on my safari adventure. I love animals, so I’d definitely do it again, but next time I’d bring a blanket to wipe the bison’s noses.

  Okay, without further ado, I turn you over to the one, the only, Machel.

  Much peace and love,

  Tiny Ninja

  Michael’s Author Notes

  May 6, 2021

  Thank you for not only reading this story but these author notes as well.

  I would like to provide a gentle, caring rebuttal to my BFF collaborator and what she said in her author notes.

  First, I’d like to point out the correct spelling of harass has two Ss at the end. So, if I follow the logic Sarah put into her author notes…

  I should spell her name Ssarah.

  I had faulty fingers one time, and now I must deal with Tiny Ninja® and all her wonderful sappiness and caring. I mean, Sarah obviously cares since she brought the mistake up with such concern and empathy, right? I prefer joking around to the understanding and…

  BWAHAHAHAHAHA! Sorry, I couldn’t keep a straight face on that one.

  Here is another try at it.

  Subconsciously, my fingers flubbed and provided her with a reason to climb up on a soapbox and get into my face about my old and failing fingers. Now, I admit it, Ms. Noffke. I’m getting old, arthritic, forgetful, and other ailments that come with being over fifty-something years old.

  However, I will be the older person, one full of wisdom and peace to provide an example for Sarah to follow when she gets to my age.

  Until then, I suggest you folks in California be careful of anyone driving a Prius.