How Wicked-er Can She Go?

by J. Morgan

  Fatherly encouragement aside, he may be on to something. Melina did say I had to ruin Gregory's chances at ever enjoying love with a mortal woman. Falling in love with me would certainly see to that. If my Mom and Dad were any indication, it wouldn't a bed of roses either. Since I ruled out magic, I would have to do this the hard way.

  Sex my way into his heart, you say? Good plan. Thanks for the help. I'm going with it!

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  Chapter 16

  The door wouldn't be knocked. As much as I willed it to be knocked, it just wouldn't oblige my whim. You would think by now that the world would know to do as I wanted it to do. Being a force of nature after all, I expected no less than blind obedience from my victims. It wasn't like I demanded world peace or anything.

  All I truly needed was for one person to walk up to my front door and beg my forgiveness for skank trolling, and then I might—emphasis on might—let him come inside. It goes without saying that one person had to be Gregory, but you already knew that because you've read the rest of the book. Excuse me for babbling, but the situation had me more than a little emotionally desperate than I normally like to admit. Not that I would admit to anything without a forget-me-not spell handy.

  The thing was I'd been expecting him all damn evening. If Gregory acted true to form, he should have shown up hours ago. Of course, I'd said that over an hour ago, and he still hadn't darkened my door. I ain't too proud to admit I said the same thing two hours before that, too. It was now after nine o'fricking-clock. My normally bubbly personality began to doubt he would show up at all.

  Score one for Miss Clairol Summer Gold. That bitch!

  Tonight definitely looked like a bust. I might as well pack it in. All my carefully laid out plans were for nothing: candles, soft music, and a table filled with delicacies fit for a king. I'd ordered the last bit in. If food didn't come from a cardboard box with a Colonel on it, I couldn't cook it. Luckily, Dion delivers to his favorite customers.

  I'd even dressed especially sexy for the occasion. Not my usual slutty, mind you, but something with real sex appeal. I'd gone with a full length black silk negligee, cut up the side to reveal a shapely slice of leg, with the bodice low enough to show the barest hint of cleavage. I had my hair clipped back where it would fall haphazardly around my face. I'd used a touch of make-up, just enough to accentuate, without overpowering my natural charms. A drop of perfume between my breasts completed a devastating package that had totally gone to waste since he hadn't had the common courtesy to even show up to witness all the hard work I'd gone to for his sorry ungrateful ass.

  Knowing a hopeless case when I lived through it, I gathered my sad-sack butt up from the chair where I'd spent the last three hours watching Neverland seep from around my closed front door, and started blowing out the candles. Clearing the table could wait until tomorrow. I was in no mood to clean up after myself tonight. If any amount of luck shined down on me, the pixies would come back and take care of it for me. Times like this I wished the new Mary Janice sat safely tucked in my hands. Then I'd at least have a good book to console myself with, in this, my time of utter rejection by the male of the species.

  The bedroom door greeted me with mocking disdain. I pushed past it, not up to unleashing my wrath on an inanimate object. I know, positively pitiful, wasn't I?

  With nothing to look forward to, I went about my nightly routine. Shucking sex appeal in favor of comfort, I found my favorite sleep shirt at the foot of the bed. A tentative sniff assured me it was more or less clean, so it went over my head without a second thought. The black number took its place on the floor, and would likely stay there for the duration of my life. I ripped the clippie out of my hair, flinging it to parts unknown. My pile of curls went wild at the prospect of freedom. I didn't care.

  A trip to the bathroom came next on my agenda. The trip to the park had done ungodly things to my face. Any minute now, it planned to sue for Botox treatments if I didn't get a decent moisturizer on it. Since it had been forever since I'd set foot outside in direct sunlight, I went with a deep cleanser to open the pores, and a heavy dollop of a facial mask to repair the damage my stupidity had earned me.

  I made a face at the ghost in the mirror staring back at me. The lime-green mask winked and wiggled its pink tongue at me, signaling it was indeed time to collapse into bed, and to forget this day ever happened. Flipping off the light, I opened the door, planning to do just that.

  "I hope you don't mind, but the front door was wide open.” Gregory's timid voice sent me tumbling onto the bathroom floor.

  "What are you doing here?” I screeched at the realization he was not only in my house, but had caught me at so not my best. Before I forget about it: Don't think I don't know who to blame for the door being wide-ass open! First thing in the morning that door was getting de-Neverlanded.

  "I'm sorry if I came by at a bad time. I can see you were getting ready for bed, but I had to tell you about my date.” He looked so dreamy-eyed I wanted to vomit.

  "Haven't you ever heard of calling first?” I rose to my feet, slapping his hand when he tried to help.

  "You never gave me your number."

  "Might be a reason for that.” I slammed the door in his face.

  Oh crap! What was I going to do? He'd seen me in my sleep face. The moisturizer had been a total put-off hadn't it? Oh shit! There went my lasting impression. How was I going to get him to fall in love with me after he'd seen me looking like a total hag?

  Think. Think. Okay, first things first, I needed to get this glop off my face. I couldn't do anything about the t-shirt. Going out there naked wasn't the look I wanted to go with, so I'd try girl-next-door sweet instead.

  I scrubbed my face until it went pink and raw. I chanced a swish of mouth wash, in case the garlic toast I'd snitched waiting for him wasn't killed by the toothpaste. Nothing short of a trip to the beauty parlor would help my hair, so I dragged a brush through it, hoping he wouldn't notice the Eighties hair I was in danger of bringing back in style.

  Throwing the door open, I put my brave face on. He'd already seen my scary as hell one. I felt that entitled him to a new one or at the very least one not featured in a Linda Blair movie. If it wasn't much different from the other one, he could learn to live with it. The brave one was more for me than him anyway. I tried my best not to think about how much hinged on what might happen next.

  I had to play this cool. The secret wasn't to let him know I wanted him more than I did while implying I did. Let me recheck that. Mmm ... Carry the one and multiply the seven. Yep, if that confused you as it did me, it must be right.

  "So, you had a date?” See, cool as a cucumber.

  "The most amazing date of my life!” Gregory fell back onto the bed laughing like a giddy schoolboy.

  "Gotcha some, did ya?” The thought set my skin to crawling but I had to ask. Morbid curiosity never killed this cat. It just made her universally unhappy.

  "Nikki!” He sat up with that shocked look on his face I was growing accustomed to seeing. “We just met today. People don't normally jump into bed on the first date."

  Obviously he didn't watch daytime television, or reality TV for that matter. Since he stubbornly stuck to his prudish ways, this was the perfect time to put a ‘slow down’ into the works. “Before you go overboard with this girl, I don't want you to get too excited. Remember, it's just like you said, it was only a first date."

  "You're missing the point. The charm worked. Alice is perfect for me. She even knew what logarithms were, and didn't nod off when I went into detail about them.” And I'm sure he went on and on.

  "I'm not missing the point. Gregory, charms are not the be all and end all of magic. I think you should just sit back and look at this analytically.” If he wanted to be a geek, I would speak to him in geek.

  "To hell with analytical! I want spontaneous combustion."

  He was insane. I'd created a monster.

  "And how do you expect to get something like
that if you're afraid to get busy on a first date?” There let him fight that logic.

  "Sex!"

  "Sex?” Let me clean my ears out. Did he just say sex?

  "Yeah, I figured you could help me get past my hang-ups about the S word.” He winked at me and flopped back into the bed.

  "You figured I'd just drop my drawers and fall into bed with you so you could work up the courage to take Alice to Wonderland, did you?” I think I might have been pissed. Yep, only word that described my mood was pissed. Having sex because I wanted to have sex was one thing. Him thinking he could come over here and I'd automatically have sex was another thing entirely.

  "Uh, kind of. You did say you wanted me to find true love."

  "True love, not get your rocks off when your ego needed a boost! I don't know if you noticed or not, but just because I'm not your normal run of the mill woman, I still have feelings."

  "I know you're a woman. You have all the woman parts right there where I can see them.” He wiggled his fingers at my breasts.

  "And the feelings?” I had to have them because I felt them ripping apart at his callous words.

  "I never gave them much thought.” He was such a man.

  "Well think about them now!” I screamed into his face.

  "I'd have to say you have them.” Gregory flinched.

  "Unless you're a total moron and haven't noticed, those feelings are for you."

  "But you're a witch."

  "And that means I can't be a woman and fall in love with assholes?” I grabbed the first thing I could get my hands on and threw it at him. Unfortunately a silk negligee wasn't a lethal weapon.

  He just stood there, with my nightie hanging off his head. “Nikki, I'm sorry. I didn't know how you felt."

  "Of course you didn't. You're a man.” I threw my arms across my chest.

  "If I had...” the words dried up when I shot him a look straight from my mother's face.

  "You would have what? Fallen instantly in love with me."

  "You're a witch!” Again he stated the obvious.

  "You just said that.” I cocked my cocked eyebrow, daring him to say it again.

  "As much as I like you...” for one brief second I felt a glimmer of hope at his words, “...I need to be with a woman who I know isn't making me love them.” Only to have it dashed away.

  Whatever he felt for me was tainted by the fact he couldn't trust me, because I was a witch. Dammit, I couldn't blame him. In his shoes, I'd probably feel the same way. That didn't make the knot in my stomach feel any better.

  "Gregory, you better go.” I pointed toward the door, wishing with everything I had that, for just once in my life, I could be wicked enough to be the woman he thought I was.

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  Chapter 17

  A fitful rest was the least of my complaints when I crawled out of bed before the sun blotched the sky. Apparently, my fury had worked the Neverland loose from around my doorjamb. By the time I gave up trying to sleep, I had a veritable guide to mythology in my living room.

  I waded through a horde of fairies, who had started a jungle-like ecosystem in my linoleum. After my attempt at genocide, the pixies had learned their lesson and left my food alone. I grabbed a pastry and an iced double-shot espresso from the fridge, and made my way to the kitchen counter.

  My usual comfort zone, the couch, was now home to a family of griffins, who didn't look like they wanted company. I picked at the pastry, and tried my best to figure out how to go on with my life. I knew any minute now, Melina would show up to evict me from my house. She'd be only too happy to broadcast my failure as a witch to the world, and all I had to look forward to was a one way ticket to my mother's guest room, since my own room had been turned into a sauna. Try dealing with all that with a broken heart.

  On cue a Fiddlers Green began playing Hank Williams from the kitchen cabinets above the sink. I winced, shoving a piece of strawberry slop into my mouth, and washing it down before the bile could catch in my throat. My life was so miserable that I had to be infected with the Neverland's version of Hell, country western style.

  Love sucked. You can quote me on that. All night I had made myself try to picture Gregory as the bad guy in all this, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. The truth of his statement kept slapping me in the face.

  His words rang through my head. “But you're a witch!"

  I couldn't change who I was. Being a witch was more than a life choice, it was a birthright. One I was proud of.

  Then why couldn't I stop crying over some guy who couldn't see it?

  Hell if I know! Isn't it amazing how a bad night's sleep and a dose of double-shot espresso put things into perspective? I'd spent the entire night pining for someone who couldn't see past a preconceived notion of what witches were supposed to be. Sure we were wicked, but what woman wasn't?

  "Hey, toots. Come here often?"

  I looked down to see a troll winking up at me. His brownish-green brows winked at me from the top of his bare head while his eyes drank in my barely-clothed body. A snake-like tongue slid from a twig-thatched beard that matched his earthy brows. The little freak gave me the willies, but for today, it was par for the course. What woman didn't want to be hit on by a five-foot-tall lech, first thing in the morning?

  "Beat it, shortstuff. This is a private party,” I grumbled, trying to ignore the things he was doing with his tongue.

  "Hey can't blame a guy for trying. Usually girls on the rebound are a helluva a lot easier."

  "This one ain't.” I swatted at his head.

  "Damn, girl, he must have screwed you up bad. First time I ever saw a witch with a love jonz. Want to tell old Nob all about it?"

  What the hell! A girl needed a shoulder to cry on, even if it was a sleazy one. “Pull up a chair, but no funny business."

  "I got daughters your age, toots. I'm more bark than bite these days, but I've got appearances to keep up. Got another one of those?” He pointed at the espresso.

  "Fridge,” I grunted. Good sense told me feeding him might have been a bad idea, but right now, bad ideas were the only ones I had.

  My pastry became a mass of crumbs by the time the troll made his way back with not one, but two, of my coffees. What did I tell you? Feeding mythical creatures was a big mistake.

  "So, what's the deal? Some mortal break your heart?” He scampered up the stool, nearly knocking the both of us over.

  "Does it show?"

  "Honey, I've seen it all. I just never expected to see it in a witch, but given time, you're liable to see it all, I guess.” He popped both tops and chugged until the cans were empty. “A right bastard was he?"

  "No, he is quite nice but..."

  "He couldn't take the fact you're a witch. Same thing happened with my first wife. Her family couldn't stand the fact I wasn't a goat. They ended up having the marriage annulled. She got the bridge, and I had to live in a cave with my brothers for the next fifty years."

  Huh? That made no sense whatsoever. “That's nothing like this."

  "If you wanted sage advice, you should have asked the gnome living under the toilet seat to sit down. With trolls you get depraved barnyard allegories.” He ran his finger around my napkin, gathering my few, remaining crumbs and popped them in his mouth. “I've got more, if you want to hear them."

  "Ew, no!” What did I do to deserve this? And, what the hell was a gnome doing under my toilet seat? I used Liquid Duck.

  "I was trying to lighten the mood. You know, I could have minded my own business, but I thought you needed a comforting ear."

  The troll was right. I did need someone to talk to, and even if sage advice wasn't involved, being alone wasn't something I wanted to be right now. A troll from the other side of Neverland might not be my first choice of confidant, but without anyone else to turn to, he was all I had.

  "I just wish I knew what to do.” I laid my head on the counter.

  "You do have it bad.” I turned my head to see him shaking his he
ad. He bent down to look me in the eye. “But, lass, is he worth all this misery you're putting yourself through?"

  "I thought so yesterday, but this morning, I really don't know."

  "You sound just like me daughters. If you love the man, then he must be worth it.” He slapped the counter, making my head ring with the impact of his meaty paw.

  "But he called me a witch, and said he couldn't trust me."

  "You are a witch and a woman to boot. A man, be he mortal or whatever you call us beasties these days, can never fully trust the female of the species. If this fella thinks he can, he's a bigger fool than I think he is for letting a bonnie lass like you slip through his fingers."

  "He is, isn't he?” For a troll, Nob made a lot of sense. For one thing, he'd called me a bonnie lass, which I was.

  "Of course he is. Now are you going to wallow in those crumbs all day or do something about making him see it?"

  "I'm going to hoist Mr. High and Mighty Gregory Hamilton up by his petard, and make him see what he's missing.” My face came up from the Formica like a shot, sending a shower of pastry boogers into the air.

  "That's the spirit, luv. Now be a dear and get me another coffee, and tell the gnome it's safe to flush the pixies."

  I got him the coffee, but wasn't going anywhere near the gnome. I shuffled my way back to the bedroom, ignoring the Neverland going wild around me. In a few hours it would be somebody else's problem anyway. Let Melina's new witch deal with it.

  Nob's pep talk had done the trick. My mind already brimmed with a plan to make Mr. Hamilton realize the error of his ways. He wanted a true love who wasn't trying to make him love her. If he believed Ms. Alice Blond Floozie didn't have a game plan in place to make him do something with those pushed-up boobies, I'd eat my hat, if I could find it, of course.

  I just needed to make him see her, and the rest of you bitches for what you were. Hey, I'm not saying I didn't have a fully-stocked cosmetics kit and a closet full of man traps in the bedroom, because I did. I just needed to show him women were all witches at heart.