He felt as if his stomach had dropped below his knees. His face got warm. "That'd be cheating, wouldn't it? I mean, how could I ever be sure it was her and not my wish?"
He snorted. "Listen to me. Up until two weeks ago, I didn't believe in wishes anymore."
"That's because you gave up on love." Angela's small, warm smile returned. "You're already a thousand leagues ahead of the game, just realizing that little detail. Love has to be earned and nurtured, not stolen or conjured up with wishes. Other people can wish for you two to be happy, to love each other, to have happily ever after, but that's the kind of wish you can never make for yourself."
He decided to think that concept over for a while. "You weren't surprised by anything I said, were you?"
"Let's just say that I saw a connection between you and Jo when you reached out to help her." She stepped back from the counter and looked around the shop. "You want a nice Christmas present for her? Think about the type of person Jo is, the life she's been living. Simple. Hard-working. Dedicated to someone else. Never thinking about herself."
"Get her something she wouldn't get herself. Easier said than done."
"Hmm, maybe. Jo won a day of pampering at Jane's spa two months ago and she just raved about it. Facial, foot massage, manicure, haircut."
"Get her a gift certificate?" Ken felt torn. A gift certificate would be too easy. It felt impersonal. But really, had he and Jo become close enough for him to get her a personal gift? "Thanks for the idea, but that just seems too...cold."
"It might be more than she would be willing to accept. Jo wouldn't feel comfortable receiving a large gift from you. But I bet if you went to Jane and asked her help, she'd put together a nice little sample box, all the creams and candles and such that Jo would just love, without feeling guilty that you spent much money on her."
"And when I get over to Jane's, she'll probably have it half-assembled," Ken said with a nod and a wry grin. He laughed when Angela just gave him an innocent look. The mischievous sparkle in her eyes totally destroyed that façade.
* * * *
"If only there were more guys like you around here," Jane said as Ken walked in. She laughed when he stopped short on her doorstep.
The wind slammed the door against his backside, so he stumbled the rest of the way into the shop.
"Angela called me." She held up a wire mesh basket lined with crimson and gold shredded cellophane and crammed with tiny sample tubes, tubs and bags. She dropped in two rose-shaped soaps to punctuate her words.
"I feel like the gift is more from you two than from me," he said, and didn't feel ashamed at the slight whine in his voice.
"You asked advice from her friends. That's more than most guys ever think of. They depend on the flash and glitz and lots of money to say what a little bit of thought and effort would express much more clearly." She winked and turned to the worktable behind the counter, her long, sand-colored braid swaying like a pendulum down her back. In moments, she had wrapped the basket in pale green cellophane and tied it all together with gold cords.
"So, Jo will like this?" He tried to see through the layers of cellophane and read the labels. It looked like there were at least twenty different packages of creams and soaps, salts and candles and little balls that were probably bath oils like his mother used to use.
"She'll love it. People who don't take any time for themselves just love it when someone pampers them. Especially if it's something she wouldn't get for herself." Jane tipped her head to one side and studied him. "You really like Jo?" Her smile widened when he nodded. "Good. The two of you are--" The smile fell off her face as her shop door opened.
"Baby," Brittney cooed. Her stiletto-heeled boots squeaked on the floor tiles. "You really shouldn't have. I mean, we're still separated. It's a lovely gesture." She reached for the gift basket, eyes bright with avarice, and then pouted when it slid out of her reach without anyone touching it.
"We're not separated, we're divorced." Ken wished he could think of something cutting to say, but his mind blanked. The problem was, he wasn't the kind of guy who enjoyed kicking others' feet out from under them.
"Oh, honey, that's not true. I know I was talking about it, but...well, it's the holidays. Don't be mean. Maybe we should try to fix things up again."
She's worried about Allistair, he realized. And nearly laughed when his next thought was, I don't care.
Brittney was only being nice to make Allistair jealous. Ken was glad he had signed those divorce papers and dropped them off with his lawyer after work, just before he went to Divine's. It was liberating to know that Brittney and Allistair couldn't affect his life anymore.
Except where they might find a way to hurt Jo. On second thought, they had both tried already and failed, hadn't they?
"Those aren't my favorite scents," Brittney announced, after leaning over the counter to see into the basket. "Honey, you forgot what I like."
"This isn't for you."
"But--" Tears instantly streamed down her cheeks.
Just a few months ago, Ken would have been terrified by the waterworks she could turn on and off at a moment's notice. "How do you do that, without messing up your makeup?" he wondered aloud.
That earned a snort and a grin from Jane. Brittney shrieked, stamped her foot, and nearly fell off her stiletto heels. When Ken didn't leap to catch her--he had vowed never to fall for that trick again--her shriek erupted again and she stomped out the door, striking sparks on the ceramic tiles. Just before the door closed, she let out a wail and went down, her feet sliding out from under her in two different directions.
Ken knew that sidewalk was clear of snow and ice, and even had a nice coating of salt. How could she have slipped?
"From the way she's cursing," he said, "I think she broke a heel. That and breaking a nail are the only things that could make her talk like that."
"She sounds like a sailor after a bender. Not that I've ever been around such creatures," Jane added, fluttering her eyelashes at him. They shared grins, and she held out her hand to shake his. "Congratulations, Ken. I think you're finally over her."
"Some of us make stupid mistakes. The lucky ones live to walk away."
Jane winked at him and turned to ring up the gift basket. She chatted about the upcoming Neighborlee Christmas festivities in the town square.
Ken gratefully took the cue to pretend what had just happened hadn't happened. He thanked Jane and took his purchase, carefully cradling it in its white paper bag, and left.
* * * *
Jane watched Ken go. She waited for a ten-count, then crossed her arms, and settled down on the high stool kept behind the counter.
"I know you're here, Maurice. You knocked Brittney off her pins and broke her heels, didn't you?"
She waited, but the Fae didn't respond. Sighing, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She went semi-transparent, looked around the shop, and leaped. Moving like a streak of light, she darted up to the corner of wall and ceiling farthest from the door, and snatched at empty air. When her fist closed, Maurice materialized inside it. He let out a yelp and a curse and pounded on Jane's fingers. She ignored him as she floated slowly back down to the floor and became opaque again.
All but for the fist holding Maurice. "Angela warned me you were meddling in Ken and Jo's love life."
"I didn't do anything to either of them. Just zapped the cow giving them grief," he grumbled. Then he tipped his head to one side and offered a charming smile that worked even in his miniaturized state. "Neat trick, babe. How do you do it?"
"I'm from another dimension, and my gifts includes phasing. It lets me see and touch what nobody else can." Jane settled down on her stool again.
"Please tell me you're single and looking." He scowled when she laughed at him. "Hey, I'm not always going to be this size."
"I know. And you're kind of hunky. But my boyfriend has a really short temper when it comes to guys making moves on me. Do you want to end your exile as a pancake, or last long enou
gh to go back to normal size?"
"Can't blame a guy for trying, can you?"
"Concentrate on helping Ken and Jo. The party is tomorrow night, and it'd be really nice if everything was perfect for them, understand?" She released him and let her hand go back to normal.
"I'm on the job." Maurice rose up in the air. He saluted, and vanished in a shower of sparks.
* * * *
Only an hour into the office Christmas party Friday night, Jo suspected someone had spiked the spicy lime punch. Everywhere she looked, a clump of mistletoe hung directly over her head. Either mistletoe hung from half the light fixtures and in every doorway in this party center, or the silly bit of useless decoration was moving. As in following her.
"Something wrong?" Ken came up behind her and held out a tall glass of amber liquid.
She opened her mouth to refuse, then realized the drink had bubbles in it.
He was definitely her knight in shining armor. Tonight proved it. His eyes had widened and gleamed when he'd seen her dark blue velvet dress. His attention and courtesy all through the cocktail and appetizer hour had made her feel special. This newest move, bringing her plain ginger ale, only proved he was the Mr. Wonderful she had dreamed of all her life.
"You okay?" Ken asked.
She pointed at the mistletoe hanging above their heads. Jo could have sworn it was four feet to the right the last time she looked. She hadn't moved, had she? Then she forgot that problem when Ken went bright red.
"I wasn't suggesting--not unless you want to. But I swear that thing is moving. It's in a different place, every time I see it," she blurted, when she finally untangled her tongue.
"Thank you." He slumped for a moment. "I thought I was just imagining it." He gestured at her glass, which she sipped with grateful relief. "That's why I decided to go for something a little less likely to be polluted. Just in case."
"My hero." She laughed when he colored up again. Then from the corner of her eye, she saw Mr. Myerhausen beckoning to Ken. "It looks like the visitors from the Pittsburgh office want to talk to you." She decided to be flattered when Ken groaned.
He apologized and promised to hurry back before he walked away.
Yes, Ken was definitely Mr. Wonderful. So nice. So strong and considerate. How could that idiot Brittney have let him go, much less tossed him over in favor of Allistair?
As if on cue, Allistair appeared at the edge of her vision, slithering toward her through the crowd of chatting, nibbling, drinking employees. That was her cue to flee.
* * * *
"When I was younger, we'd call that tactic 'cruising for a bruising,'" Mr. Myerhausen remarked as the Pittsburgh contingent moved away to refresh their drinks.
Ken turned and saw Allistair moving with purpose through the crowd. He marked the straight line his nemesis followed, and saw Jo beating a hasty retreat.
"You have my permission to break something vital," Mrs. Myerhausen growled. Her husband gaped at her for a moment, and then burst out laughing.
Jo slipped into one of the side rooms, with Allistair even closer behind her.
"Excuse me, sir," Ken said and hurried off after them. Mr. Myerhausen chuckled behind him, and it warmed him to know the old man approved.
Halfway around the perimeter of the room, a red-nailed hand latched onto his arm and pulled him off balance. Ken muffled a curse and caught himself before he swung and popped Brittney in her heavily made-up face.
Tears made her eyes seem twice as large and her bottom lip quivered. "Ken, how could you?" she wailed in her baby-doll voice.
Ken looked around. People were watching, just as he had always feared. But strangely, the looks of disgust were cast at Brittney and the pity was all focused on him. He had always thought it would be the other way around. He laughed as he realized what an idiot he had been for so long, restrained by his fear.
"How can you laugh when you hurt me so badly?" She yanked back her hand as if his sleeve burned her.
"What did I do? Besides sign the papers for the divorce you filed for?" He turned his back on her and continued across the room.
"I just wanted you to prove you really loved me." Her high heels clattered on the linoleum as she followed him.
"Oh, yeah, that's logical," someone muttered from behind Ken.
The crowd parted before him, making him wonder what sort of expression he wore. He picked up the pace, but Brittney followed. How did she manage to run on those toothpick heels, anyway? Those claws latched onto his arm. He turned, twisting to free it.
"Ken, honey, you have to listen to me."
"No, I don't. We're not married anymore." He tried to step around her. Brittney slid over, blocking his path.
"But I want you back!" She grabbed onto his arms again.
"I don't want you back." He jerked free.
Brittney stumbled backwards and hit the wall, only three feet away. "You'll pay for that," she snarled, all the helpless squeaks and wails gone. "I'll have you thrown in jail for beating me."
"Is that what you have hidden under all that makeup? Allistair's been beating you, but you're afraid to report him to the police?"
"Allistair adores me. He would never lay a hand on me."
Mr. Myerhausen caught up with them, with Mrs. Myerhausen right behind him. "Then why are you chasing Mr. Jenkins? Haven't you heard the old phrase, that what goes around comes around?"
"You don't understand," Brittney wailed, switching back to her helpless mode.
"I understand completely. I may be old, but that helps me see far more clearly than manipulative, self-centered witches such as you give me credit for." His chuckle was cold when Brittney gasped. Her eyes widened and she went a few shades paler under her heavy makeup.
"Ken, my lad, I think we need to rescue your young lady and have these two party-crashers handled by security." Mr. Myerhausen caught hold of Brittney's arm when she tried to slither past him, and gestured for Ken to lead the way.
* * * *
"Come on, sweetheart." Allistair chuckled when Jo evaded his grip. His breath smelled like a whiskey factory. "Look, mistletoe. Company policy. Gotta kiss under it." He gestured up at the ceiling and nearly lost his balance.
Jo glared up at the mistletoe, which she was now positive did follow her. She almost didn't see Allistair make another lunge at her.
"Get off me, you sleazebag!" She spun and brought her knee up, just like she'd seen in a ridiculous martial arts movie last week. Despite knowing she was forty pounds heavier than the willowy heroine, she turned with astonishing ease and hit her target. At least, she told herself, she'd aimed for Allistair's gut and not a good ten inches lower.
He oomphed and folded over with satisfying speed.
She backed away, heading for the door, and tripped over the lounge chair in a conversation grouping.
Note to self: never walk backwards when in dangerous situations.
"If you walk out of here without giving me what I want," Allistair wheezed, "then don't come to work on Monday."
"You don't have that kind of authority." Jo didn't sound as confident as she wanted. From the smug grin replacing the agony on Allistair's face, he'd heard it in her voice.
"Babycakes, I stole old Kenny's woman and I got his promotion and I've taken everything he ever had that I wanted. I always get what I want and nobody ever catches me. You play nice and you give me what I want, or you're canned. And I'll make sure good old Ken gets the blame for all the embezzling I've been doing the last four years." He cackled when dismay crossed her face. "That got you, didn't it? Yeah, you and me, we'll have fun. I have to hold onto that skinny witch just to win over old Ken, but that doesn't mean I have to suffer for it."
"Witch?" Brittney squealed, and launched herself across the room.
Jo darted out of her way and stumbled into another chair. No, it wasn't a chair.
That was Ken, wrapping his arms around her.
"Are you okay?" His arms were strong and warm and his breath smelled nice and he ha
d such gorgeous eyes, so warm and concerned.
"Yeah. Great." She knew she was grinning like a fool. It didn't matter, because Ken was grinning like a fool now, too.
Allistair and Brittney snarled and screamed at each other, oblivious to their audience, until Mr. Myerhausen summoned security. They arrived with suspicious speed, as if they had been waiting for this moment.
"Miss August, I'm sorry to bring up office matters at a social occasion..." Mr. Myerhausen turned to watch the three security men escort Allistair and Brittney away.
"Sir?" Jo tried not to shiver. Was she going to be fired or her pay docked for being part of the scene that had just taken place?
But at least Ken was safe from Allistair.
"I'm sorry. Mustn't drift like that. Quite a revelation tonight, eh, Ken?"
"Yes, sir." Ken tightened his arm around Jo's waist. "Lucky for us, there wasn't much fallout."
"Fallout. Exactly. Miss August, please make a note when you come in Monday morning, I want security to meet Mr. Somerville at the front door. He is not to be alone for one second while he cleans out his desk. I want Mr. Wilberforce and Miss Spencer to supervise, so he doesn't try to take home anything that belongs to the company. I especially don't want him to have access to his computer before our IT people can get inside and backtrack his larcenous activities."
He pretended to be shocked when Mrs. Myerhausen shook her fist at Allistair's retreating back. "I suspected him, but there was no proof. Well, we all heard what he said, didn't we? Good enough reason to fire him immediately."
"Yes, sir," Jo said, and Ken echoed her.
"My dear Miss August, this is a Christmas party. I recommend the two of you enjoy yourselves." He gestured up at the ceiling. "And do take advantage of the mistletoe while you can." Chuckling, he linked arms with his wife and shuffled out of the room.
"Mistletoe?" Ken tipped his head back. Sure enough, the mistletoe hung directly over their heads. Jo could have sworn it was on the other side of the room just a few minutes ago.
"Orders are orders," she whispered.
"Yes, ma'am." He kept his arm around her waist and drew her up against him.
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