Guys and Godmothers

by Candice Gilmer

  She ran her fingers through her hair and the curls loosened, then sprang back into their usual spiral. She swirled magic around her, and the little sparkles tickled her skin from toe to the tip-top of her wings… Ahh, clean and fresh. After she snapped her finger, her wand evaporated into the air for safekeeping.

  Now, time for the luxury. She headed over to her bed and pulled back the thin sheet. She sighed as she slid in, and the comfort of the bed enveloped her.

  Rolling onto her side, she stretched her wings, letting them flutter before they settled. She ran her hands over her stomach and across her chest, feeling the texture of her skin. With a stroke, she drew a line in the gold on her arm, showing her flesh underneath the abundance of dusty glitter. While the fairies wore clothes most of the time, the one benefit Lilly had—being single—was she could strip naked and wander nude around her home as much as she wanted to.

  Being naked felt so free.

  Nonetheless, she didn’t have time to savor the sensation. After she snapped her fingers, her wand appeared in her hand.

  She had work to do.

  Getting situated, she rolled onto her stomach, tucked her pillow under her chest, and propped herself onto her elbows. With a stroke of her wand, a picture framed with golden fog around the edges materialized.

  The bar appeared where the three charges had been.

  “I guess they are still partying.” She watched her charge, Bruce Matthews, drink with his friends. And check his cell phone.

  After receiving the assignment, she really should go to her charge and make sure he was protected. As soon as Cupid got wind of this, he would be front and center, trying to cause all sorts of problems.

  But surely her charge wouldn’t get into trouble tonight, would he? Even Cupid’s sources couldn’t be that on top of things. After all, the minions were diaper-wearing toddlers. They weren’t known for their sharp wit.

  She waved her wand again as she half listened to Bruce’s conversation with the other man, Jason—the one Ava had been assigned to.

  A file folder appeared and Lilly began to peruse Bruce’s life. While Christy and Ava didn’t always go through the files, Lilly did before she attempted anything.

  Something in the files always helped.

  The men chatted about some ball game while she read about Bruce’s background. Basic stuff, really. Parents married and divorced several times, each. Trust issues, right there. A sister who didn’t want to marry at all. More trust issues around him.

  Good to know.

  Owns a dog, and it’s his longest-standing relationship—ten years.

  “Wow,” Lilly muttered, brushing some gold dust off the page. “He really doesn’t keep people around for very long.”

  And then she turned the page to the potential Happily Ever Afters.

  With any case file, there were always multiple HEAs—several people who would be perfect choices for the charge. Part of the Fairy Godmother gig, fairies couldn’t make the charge do anything against their free will. Hence several potential choices for the Fairy Godmothers to work through, to make sure the charge got exactly what they needed.

  And wanted.

  So Lilly perused the page, and started to choke.

  Only one listed HEA.

  “What in the world is this?” She tapped her wand against the page a couple of times.

  Nope, nothing.

  “Only one HEA? How is that possible?” It couldn’t be. It just couldn’t be. What if they got into a fight? What if they hated each other?

  And it was an orange HEA. Meaning they’d never met.

  Lilly’s heart pounded. “How in the world am I going to pull this off?” And then Christy’s little rule popped in her head.

  With the least amount of magic possible.

  Her worry turned to full-on panic.

  Lilly sat up, her hand against her heart. “It’s not possible. I can’t do it without magic, not when they haven’t met!”

  “You are correct, this is an impossible challenge, and you were a fool to take it on.”

  Lilly screamed, pulling the sheet over her breasts.

  A man had materialized in her home and his gaze ran over her, in a most inappropriate way.

  “Lilly, please, enough of that.” He waved his arm.

  Lilly sat up straighter, realizing who had come in. Not any fairy could materialize in another fairy’s house. There were laws, of course.

  But Council members could. Though they weren’t supposed to look at her like that—and such a look shouldn’t be giving her such rumblies in her tummy.

  Especially him.

  “Andres, what are you doing here?” She held the sheet firmly in place. Andres Vinka, one of the head Councilmen who reported to Jupiter—the leader of the Roman gods—about Fairy business, did not pop in on anyone.

  Especially not her.

  The only time Lilly ever wondered if Andres knew she existed was when he yelled at her for not performing exactly right on a case.

  Which happened more often than not.

  Though he never looked at her like that…

  “I am going to do you a favor, Lilly. I am going to relinquish you from this horrible charge.”

  He couldn’t do that, could he? Lilly may have been worried, even terrified, but she had never quit on any charge, and never would. Even if she lost the bet, she wasn’t a quitter.

  “He’s not horrible. He’s, well, a boy.”

  Andres walked around the display image. “Oh really?” The image followed Bruce, and Andres stroked the edge, panning it out more to reveal who Bruce spoke to.

  “Really, man I need a favor,” Bruce said to Jason.

  “What’s up, man?” Jason asked.

  Bruce looked over his shoulder, then back at Jason. “I need you to find someone.”

  Jason raised his eyebrow.

  “I’ve been talking to her on Facebook for a while now. I think she’s gotta be super hot, you know? She’s really cool and into the stuff I like.”

  Jason rolled his eyes. “Lord, there’s another one of you?”

  “Knock it off.” Bruce grimaced at his friend. “She’s really cool. But she won’t post any pictures of herself on Facebook. I’ve asked her over and over. She won’t do it.”

  “You do realize this sounds highly unethical.”

  “I don’t want naked pictures. I want to see her face.”

  Jason sighed. “She has a reason for not sharing the pictures, dude.”

  “It can’t be that bad.”

  “She’s fat.”

  “So?” Bruce said.

  Jason raised his eyebrow again. “This from the guy who spends all day long with models.”

  “And they’re all bitches. Trust me on this. I have to know, man. I have to know what she looks like. Why she’s hiding.”

  Jason stared him. “You’re serious.”

  “Very. I’ll pay you whatever you want.”

  Jason shrugged. “Email me what you have, and I’ll see what I can find.”

  Lilly’s jaw dropped, and probably would have rolled across the floor.

  “He is not a good person, Lilly.” Andres waved his hand to collapse the image.

  “Who would do that?” Lilly whispered, disgusted.

  “Your charge.” Andres crossed his arms.

  Lilly glanced at the file she’d been reading. Nothing in it said anything about him being so deceitful and sneaky.

  “Now, I can release you from him, if you will—”

  “No,” Lilly said, not looking at Andres. She stared at the file, looking for something she might have missed.

  “What?”

  “No.” Lilly stood up, pulling the sheet with her to keep things covered. “I took this, I will not quit.”

  “You cannot bring someone lik
e that a HEA. He does not deserve it.”

  Lilly stood straighter. “Andres, what do we do? We Fairy Godmothers bring happiness to those who ask. He asked for help. I heard him. I will not give up because of this.”

  “You will not succeed.”

  She raised her eyebrow. “I can do this.”

  Andres waved his hand around the house. “You cannot have glass vases because you shatter them, Lilly. What makes you think a klutz like you can save someone like that?”

  “Because I am a good Fairy Godmother!”

  Andres’s shoulders drooped. “I know you are. I do not want to see you getting a blotch on your record.”

  She gritted her teeth together. “I won’t.”

  “If you need me, you know how to reach me.”

  “Thanks. Now you can leave.”

  Andres disappeared.

  “Ohh… I am going to punch him straight in that handsome face of his!” Lilly muttered. It didn’t matter how he’d made her tummy flip-flop like that. “How dare he! I can handle anything this guy’s got going on…”

  She looked back at the files. And swallowed. “I can make this work. I can.”

  Chapter One

  Friday Night

  Bruce left the sports bar with a skip in his step.

  For a second, anyway.

  His phone went off as he pulled into his condo’s parking garage. Parking his four year-old Ford Escape, he let out a sigh. He might have made a mistake.

  He removed the smart phone from the little pocket on the dash, and saw a text notification.

  From Greta.

  Already guilt gnawed at him.

  Not good.

  Hey stud, having fun at the party? - Greta

  They’d progressed over the last six months from chatting on Facebook and Twitter over asinine things to Bruce giving her his cell number.

  He’d had multiple reasons for giving Greta the cell phone number. Partly because it would be easier for her to text him if she didn’t have to go through Facebook, since she didn’t have a smart phone. The other part, though, was more personal.

  He’d hoped she would share a photo with him.

  So far nothing.

  He didn’t know how he should feel. Both pumped about talking to Jason, and a little sick.

  He’d friggin’ asked Jason to get him a photo of Greta.

  It had come to him in a blink of clarity—albeit drunken clarity—at the bachelor party. He’d been chatting with her for six months now, and not once had he seen her photo.

  Well, that wasn’t entirely true.

  She put up a photo of her toes when she’d gotten a pedicure and had little gears on each nail—very awesome and steampunk. And Bruce loved all things steampunk.

  Even toes.

  He wanted to know more about those toes.

  Snap—his best friend was a private investigator. Jason could find out anything.

  Two unconnected ideas came together.

  Pics of Greta.

  Staring at his phone, he wondered if he should call Jason and tell him to forget it. Everyone had their reasons for privacy.

  But Bruce was a photographer. He saw things differently. Pictures were his world, and not knowing what Greta looked like made him nuts.

  He didn’t care if she was fat or thin or short or tall. He worked with all sorts of people, and saw the beauty in even the most asinine things.

  Especially steampunk toes.

  He was beginning to think he was a little obsessed with this woman. Maybe the pictures would be a good thing. Then he’d know what she was hiding—and he was sure she was hiding something—and maybe he’d be over this obsession.

  Might even want to go on a real date again.

  Because spending the night drinking beer and texting Greta did not make a real date.

  Might have been more fun if you were there… - Bruce

  He walked into his condo, flipped on the lights, turned off the security alarm. His ten-year-old Labrador, Steve, with as much energy as someone who ate the entire turkey on Thanksgiving, turned his head toward Bruce, yawned, stretched, and curled back up in his dog bed in the corner.

  “Such a meanie, aren’t you?” Bruce said. The dog made a grumble and went back to sleep.

  The old boy didn’t have much energy left. Regardless of the daily walks and regular vet visits, Steve’s days were numbered. Already he’d gotten gray around his nose and mouth. Those big fatty tumors all over him and the arthritis made getting around harder for the dog.

  Bruce took a seat on the couch, setting his phone on the coffee table. Or would have, if he hadn’t seen the reply from Greta.

  Hardy har har… - Greta

  He slipped off his shoes, smirking.

  Knew that was coming.

  Steve groaned, hobbling over to the couch, and climbed up. The dog grunted and laid his head in Bruce’s lap. He stroked the dog’s head, and in a flash the dog snoozed again.

  So he answered Greta’s text.

  You woulda had your pick of hot guys… - Bruce

  Even if I was the last woman on earth, I would never invade a bachelor party... - Greta

  If you were the last woman on earth, then who’d be getting married? - Bruce

  He picked up his tablet, grinning as his email loaded, because he couldn’t wait to see what she’d say. Not that he wanted to see if he had any new work orders come in. He was much more—

  Ping.

  Maybe you all are gay, and what would I want with you? - Greta

  He laughed, waking up Steve. “Sorry pal.”

  The dog snorted and lay back down.

  Must reply…

  Thought women loved to “turn” gay men. - Bruce

  After hitting send, he wondered if she’d laugh. And then wondered what her laugh sounded like. Again it hit him that he’d never seen her smile. Didn’t know what color her eyes were.

  He shook off the rather sentimental thoughts and turned to his emails. Work beckoned. Three new cover art request forms, two photography inquiries, and seventeen spam messages.

  Bruce started with the cover art requests, scanning the forms Clandestine Publishing, an ebook publisher, had sent. God, he hated the name of the company. But even if he did, their checks never bounced.

  The first two were pretty simple. He could knock those out pretty fast—the authors were veterans of the publisher. They sent links to photos, and were pretty simple in their requests.

  The third had a little more—good God, she wanted a goat on the cover?

  He rolled his eyes.

  He started doing ebook cover art a few years ago because his sister Denise had asked him to do a cover for her first release with Clandestine Publishing. And hey, he was a good brother. Why wouldn’t he? The publisher liked his work, so he started doing more.

  The book covers supplemented his photography work, and whenever he could, he used his own stock, which helped both businesses. Now he did between four to seven covers a month—and on a couple of rare occasions, as many as fifteen.

  Jason and Roark didn’t know about the cover work, though Bruce kept a small gallery of it on his photography website, since he used his own photos. Which showed how much his friends actually looked at his website.

  He knew his friends would razz him forever. So he didn’t bring it up.

  His phone beeped.

  Some women like a challenge. J - Greta

  Now that couldn’t go unanswered.

  Do you? - Bruce

  She quickly replied.

  No, I prefer my men docile and agreeable. - Greta

  He smirked and glanced at his dog.

  Then I have the perfect one for you. - Bruce

  And who might that be? - Greta

  Bruce grinned.

 
My dog, Steve. Most lazy, docile animal ever. - Bruce

  He expected a quick reply, at least an “LOL,” but Greta didn’t answer.

  Oh well. It was late.

  Maybe she had to work tomorrow.

  “Hmm,” Lilly whispered after watching the way his aura sparkled with every little text message Bruce sent. “Maybe he does have potential.”

  Chapter Two

  Friday Night

  Oh my God. Bruce has a dog.

  “Well, that’s it, then,” Greta Vandecall said. “He’s out.” She tossed her phone and started pacing around the basement apartment she—sadly—rented from her parents.

  “How could I be so stupid? Of course he has a dog.” Because Bruce seemed like a great guy. Too great.

  They liked all the same things.

  Well, except for the dog thing.

  Shit.

  “Well, at least I know now, and not standing on his doorstep.” Tears welled in her eyes. If she walked into his place, and a dog came bounding toward her—

  Well, that couldn’t go well at all.

  She ran her hand over the left side of her face, tracing the scars along her cheek and jaw. They’d diminished over time, but would probably always be there.

  A very painful reminder why she didn’t do well with dogs.

  Or people who had dogs.

  “Bruce is definitely out.”

  And sadly, she was rather brokenhearted about it.

  After all, how often did she find a guy who liked steampunk as much as she did and lived within driving distance?

  Never.

  She knew, because she had been looking. For years.

  Damn.

  Greta picked up her laptop, balancing it on a huge coffee-table book so she could work. Her eyes—misty wet.

  Made it hard to open her word processor. She forced back the tears.

  And felt like the biggest idiot for thinking Bruce could be someone special.

  She pulled open her latest book file. The new trilogy, a spin off from the steampunk series last year, had come to her in a flash of inspiration, and her publisher, Clandestine Publishing, wanted to see it.

  She stared at the open file.

  The main character named Bruce.