The Naughty List

by L. A. Kelley

  Rosalie’s eyes widened. “Is that—”

  “Every penny of the three thousand Stephanie stole down to the last nickel along with a complete confession—and I mean complete. I swear she wrote down each naughty deed since kindergarten. The last page is nothing but an apology, a heartfelt one, actually.”

  “I bet. She’s afraid you’ll call the cops. Will you?”

  “I don’t know. Stephanie swears she’ll strive to become a better person. Maybe she’s sincere. Maybe The Book is working.”

  Rosalie snorted in disbelief. “Maybe I’m a flying monkey.”

  ****

  Rosalie’s first day as Marissa’s assistant was physically and emotionally exhausting. If anything, the future of Penrose’s became even glummer the further they investigated the financial state of the store. Marissa tried to maintain a sunny outlook, but Rosalie knew she worried. At least, Alex’s medicine continued to work.

  Although the staff was downright giddy with the knowledge of losing Stephanie, an air of bittersweet melancholy hovered overhead. Everyone realized the end loomed near. Still, Rosalie rejoiced to be back at Penrose’s even if the employment turned out to be temporary.

  She had a hard time keeping her game face on, though, when she heard the latest news from Mittens. Rosalie ran into her at the coffee shop and was graced with a small bell pepper. The elderly woman happily informed her she had finished clearing out her apartment. “I’m getting rid of the last of my produce. The apartment is officially on the market.”

  “Any hot prospects?”

  A guarded look clouded her face. “Yes, actually, but, I don’t want to jinx the sale, so I better keep my mouth shut. If all goes well, I’ll be out before New Years.”

  Rosalie hugged her. “I’m happy for you, but Penrose’s won’t be the same.” She shot a wistful glance around the store. “Nothing will be the same anymore. I suppose they’ll turn the store into a parking garage.”

  Mittens patted her kindly on the shoulder. “You never know what the future brings. Perhaps something even better.”

  Better than Penrose’s? Rosalie opened her mouth to argue when an image of David swept through her mind. One door closes and another one opens, but finishing the latest chapter wouldn’t come without regret. Another great old institution run into the ground by corporate greed and mismanagement. Ah, well, the decision was out of her hands.

  The thought of David cheered her considerably during the day, even as Rosalie dragged her tired feet up the stairs to her apartment. She opened the door. A delicious smell drew her in.

  “You’re early,” she groused. “I planned to cook and get all nice—”

  David swept her up in his arms and kissed her. “You look perfect.”

  “I look tired. So do you, but,” she inhaled deeply. “You smell great, like pepperoni.”

  He motioned toward a big cardboard box on the table. “The best Little Italy offers. Let’s eat.”

  “Can you stay long?” she asked hopefully.

  He shook his head, clearly disappointed, before shooting her a mischievous grin. “Not even supposed to be here. I told Dominic I was popping out for some fresh air.”

  She took a slice and bit in. Her eyes closed in blissful contentment. “Yum.”

  “Good, huh? It’s my favorite place.”

  She swallowed. “How goes the hunt?”

  “Slowly, but I think Pearce is still in the Atlanta area. I read several police reports of money gone missing in plain sight. His accounts at headquarters are frozen so he needs cash. Security cameras at the crime scenes show nothing, not surprising with an invisible thief. Also, I discovered Kaplan’s medusa girlfriend left the area. She said something about a job opportunity out of town, but no one knows anything about it. The wardens won’t let me track either of them, but, screw it, I had Billy do a covert trace. He confirms they both crossed the Hudson River.”

  “Mostly, though,” he grumbled, “Dominic’s driving me nuts. He can’t disarm the cloaking spell easily without knowing Anthony’s modifications. He’s on me constantly with one idea after another, none of them useful. Dominic has no idea how The Book works. He keeps yelling at it and tells me to fix it. I think The Book’s getting pissed.”

  “Send The Book my condolences. Frankly, I’m a little unnerved knowing an un kn, btraceable demon with anger management issues is out there.”

  “Yeah, I know the feeling.” David ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. “Anthony is hatching something. I just don’t know what.” He abruptly looked up. “I didn’t come to whine. I came to see you.”

  “No problem,” she exclaimed cheerfully. “Everyone deserves a five minute rant at the end of the day. I’ll give you mine.”

  He leaned back, hands behind his head. “Fire away.”

  She filled him in on the situation at Penrose’s. “We have problems throughout the store. Stephanie cut so many jobs only bare bones staff is left. The most undermanned is the security office. Barely anyone monitors the cameras anymore. Shoplifters could walk off with half the jewelry department with nobody to stop them. Not to mention all the deferred maintenance. The plumbing needs to be updated, so does the electrical and air conditioning, but the board won’t do anything. They plan to sell and a new owner won’t invest in an old dinosaur like Penrose’s. I now know how the last stegosaurus felt nose-diving into the tar pits.” She fingered her necklace. “I’m wearing Langbor’s coin for luck, but I’m not sure even the ill-gotten gains of a drunken forest deity can help Penrose’s anymore.”

  David kissed the top of her head. “No good news at all? Come one, The Book is back in the rightful place. Good vibes are reasserting themselves. Give me something,” he pleaded, “or I swear I’ll go home and yell at The Book myself.”

  Rosalie thought hard before suddenly perking up. “Alex is better and Stephanie apologized.” She told David all about the envelope stuffed with cash. “Who knew Stephanie would feel guilty about anything let alone try to make amends? Okay…” She flashed him a smile. “Two good unexpected things, I’m a believer again.”

  “There, you see. The Book works. A few months from now, Stephanie will make Mother Teresa look like another self-absorbed reality show star.” She eyed him with skepticism and he shrugged. “What can I say? Optimism is a family trait.”

  His phone rang. Irritated, he glanced at the display. “Dominic.” He texted back a quick replay.

  “Leaving so soon?” She couldn’t keep the disappointment out of her voice.

  David pulled Rosalie to her feet. “I told him I was stuck in traffic and be there in ten minutes.” He wrapped his arms around her. “I wonder how long he takes before remembering I dash-away.” The Baal took twelve minutes and thirty two seconds Rosalie and David quite enjoyed.

  David managed to dash-away in each night at dinner time. His visits were short, but even an hour or two sufficed. Rosalie never felt so comfortable with someone so quickly. Her happiness spilled over into her work. Nothing bothered her, not the hectic Christmas rush, not a shaky employment status. No matter how crazy the day, David waited each night with his ever-present optimism life would get better.

  She and David alternated days to supply the evening meal. Since the E.L.F.’s schedule didn’t leave time to cook, he resorted to take-out from his favorite places. Not that Rosalie complained. Tonight was his turn. She wondered idly which one of New York’s restaurants would grace her table this evening. She opened the door, surprised when no delightful aroma met her nose. David greeted her with a kiss, but the table was bare. She poked him with mock irritation. “You’re shirking.”

  “Actually, Mom and Dad asked us to dinner tonight. Is that okay?”

  “I’d love to. I’ll change into something nice.”

  He grabbed her. “What do I keep telling you? You’re already nice. The Book says so.” They dashed-away into the Kloss’s apartment before she uttered a protest.

  Rosalie inhaled. “Now, that’s more like it. Something sme
lls wonderful.”

  Brian came out of the kitchen to greet them. “I thought I heard voices. You’re just in time, dinner is ready.” He led them to the dining room where Grace finished laying out the meal. Rosalie hadn’t seen them since she gave testimony to the wardens. Brian and Grace were both interested in hearing about the situation at Penrose’s. She filled them in.

  “With well-trained employees and a loyal customer base,” Grace reflected, “I see potential to turn the store around.”

  “Yeah,” Rosalie remarked wryly, “all we need is several armored car-loads of cash to keep the old girl going. Maybe I should hold a bake sale. Miss Lu’s pie is totally awesome.”

  “No doubt,” Brian agreed in amusement. “Although, Penrose’s really needs a complete rework from top to bottom without losing any of the old character. The infrastructure was sadly neglected over the years. The entire air conditioning system must be replaced and that’s not cheap.”

  Rosalie looked up from her dessert in surprise. “How did you know?”

  He exchanged glances with his wife. “We were curious and made inquiries. You weren’t too far off about the armored cars full of cash.”

  “Is there any chance to save the store?”

  “Hard to say, various factors are involved in any business decision.” Grace eyed her sympathetically. “I’m sure everything will work out for the best.”

  ****

  Everyday brought new challenges at work for Rosalie, but they were offset by the knowledge David waited each night. Goodbyes became longer and longer. Even though the time together was only stolen moments, their lives seemed to mesh so well. When together, they felt as if they were never apart. When apart, Rosalie’s days were filled with the happy knowledge she’d soon feel a puff of air and David would stand in the empty corner of her apartment with open arms.

  They sat on the couch one night watching TV after dinner. His eyes strayed to the Christmas tree with no presents underneath. Other than food, Rosalie refused to let David spend any money on her. “Let me buy you a Christmas present,” he insisted, “or at least ornaments for the tree.” Anthony destroyed all the old decorations and Rosalie hadn’t bothered with new ones.

  “Not a chance. Homemade ornaments are a tradition in my family. Langbor’s gold coin was enough.” In truth, Rosalie was intimidated by the wealth glimpsed in the repository. What on earth do you get an E.L.F. who already owns a vault full of treasure? How could she accept something else from him when all she could scrape together was fifty bucks?

  The next night David showed up with a selection of ornaments he made himself of macaroni, glue, and glitter. He solemnly insisted on placing them around the tree without her help. The day after he brought Santas made of empty toilet paper rolls. Then pipe cleaner reindeer. Then the name Rosalie spelled out in craft sticks and sequins. Within a few days, the tree transformed into the most glorious sparkling hideous hot mess Rosalie ever saw. Finally, he gifted her with a lopsided papier-mâché star for the top. She gazed at the tree with delight, enjoying every last ridiculous piece.

  I love you, David the E.L.F.

  Rosalie felt a flush creep into her cheeks. She hadn’t said the ’ dinnewords yet, but they were lined up at the block waiting for the starter pistol. No need to fire, yet. They’d burst out soon enough. She bit her lip as a niggling worry pricked at her. What if he didn’t want to hear them? What if your heart isn’t what he wants out of this relationship? After all, he hasn’t said the L word yet, either. She pushed the anxious thoughts aside. They’d only known each other a short while. The time to admit feelings would come. She didn’t need anything else to worry about this Christmas. Unconsciously, she heaved a sigh.

  David murmured playfully in her ear. “It’s too early in our relationship for me to depress you so much.”

  “I-It’s not you.” Flustered, she didn’t want to share her thoughts. “I was thinking about Penrose’s and what your folks said about the money needed for the store to make a turnaround. I know they tried to sound hopeful, but they were being kind. They’re business experts. They saw the bottom line. Penrose’s is doomed.”

  “Geez, when you decide to be depressed, you don’t kid around.”

  “Tell me I’m wrong.”

  “You’re wrong.”

  “Tell me there’s hope.”

  “There’s hope.”

  She leaned a grateful head on his shoulder. “You’re impossible. You’re not supposed to tell me things I want to hear.”

  “I’m not impossible just optimistic. It’s an E.L.F. thing.”

  “It’s so hard,” she groused, “knowing each day might be the last. Especially since Penrose’s is so much better since Stephanie left. I want everything to be as it used to be.”

  “Everything?” he whispered tenderly.

  “No.” She kissed him. “Sometimes change is very good.”

  David held her tight. “Come to New York. I could stomach having you around some more,” he teased, “until we Integrals decide to bring back human sacrifices. Then you’d come in mighty handy.”

  “That’s so sweet,” she chuckled. “Offers like that are really hard to turn down, but I love Penrose’s. As long as my job lasts, I want to stay.”

  David swallowed hard. “Does it help to know I love you?”

  Rosalie blinked in surprise. She searched his face for the truth. Oh please, don’t kid about this. But all she saw was tenderness reflected in his eyes.

  “I do, you know,” he murmured. “I loved you from the first time I saw you in that stupid elf hat. I loved you when you threatened me with pepper spray. I loved you when you stood up to Anthony and nearly got killed on account of me and The Book. I love you now, Rosalie Thatcher. I’ve never said that to another woman, human or Integral. I never will.”

  “I love you, too,” was all she managed. The words were enough. He kissed her long and slow. She fell willingly into his arms. Eventually, they pulled away from each other although not without regret. They would take the next step, but not tonight. When something felt this right there was no need to rush.

  The Baal interrupted their romantic interlude with an irate phone call. He wanted David back on the double. The E.L.F. yelled into the phone, “I’m with Rosalie…yes, she is…none of your damn business…no…I don

  ’t see how…I said,” he nearly choked out the words, “none of your damn business.” He hung up, glaring at the device in his hand.

  Rosalie kissed him on the cheek. “Why don’t you just kill him and get it over with? You know you want to.”

  Daviwidth="29" align="justify">“He’s…so…medieval,” David said through clinched teeth. “He insists…” Suddenly, he clapped his mouth shut. “I’m sorry. I have to go.”

  “Trouble?”

  David brushed it off. “Not to worry. Just Dominic being Dominic.” He kissed her goodbye. “Tomorrow?”

  “You betcha.” In a blink the E.L.F. dashed-away. “I wonder who spit in the Baal’s granola?” mused Rosalie. She answered herself with a shrug. When dating an E.L.F. you had to get used to weird Integral business.

  Chapter Thirteen

  A storm blew in the next day, but Rosalie didn’t notice. She stifled a yawn on her drive to work. David stayed later than usual keeping her awake. Not that she minded. She rather hoped he’d keep her up later than usual from now on.

  Rosalie’s first stop was always Marissa’s office. To her surprise, her friend stood in the hallway.

  “What are you doing out here?” Rosalie asked cheerfully.

  Marissa motioned toward the door with an odd expression. “I found her waiting when I arrived. She says she’s Cupid.”

  Rosalie blinked. “What?”

  Marissa grabbed her arm, obviously flustered. “You know, Cupid with the bow and arrows. Except she doesn’t have any and she’s a middle-aged lady, wearing a designer suit with really nice shoes and no diaper. Unless she has one on underneath her skirt. Does she?”

  “What? Diaper?
I don’t…” Rosalie pointed at the door, mouth agape. “Cupid? In there? For me?”

  Her friend glanced with apprehension at the office. “I don’t think you should keep her waiting. She doesn’t look at all like the Valentine’s Day cards. She’s kind of official.”

  “Official? What does that—”

  The question died on her lips when the door yanked open. A prim well-dressed woman in a tailored suit stood on the threshold. “Come in, Ms. Thatcher. Sit down.” She spoke with a command rather than an invitation. Rosalie sunk into a chair feeling like she was back in grade school and called before the principle for hogging the monkey bars. The woman sat behind the desk. In front of her rested an open leather briefcase next to a tablet computer.

  “My name is Natalie Jankowski, Cupid Section Chief for Southeast Regional Precinct Three. I was informed by Cupid Division Control you began a romantic involvement with an Elemental Life Form by the name of David Kloss. Is the information correct?”

  Rosalie eyed her in trepidation. “Yes…”

  “Have you and the E.L.F. had sexual intercourse?”

  “What the hell business is that of yours?” she sputtered.

  Ms. Jankowski tapped the tablet. “That’s a no.” She glanced up. “Are you planning to within the next fiscal year?”

  “You have no right—”

  She tapped the screen again. “That’s a yes.” The woman reached into the briefcase. She handed a scroll tied with a velvet ribbon to Rosalie. “This is a Cease-and-Desist order. All romantic involvement with the said David Kloss will be immediately halted until the proper paperwork is filed with Division Control and said adjudication completed to the satisfaction of the central authority.”

  Rosalie stared at the scroll. “This is a joke, right?” She flashed a grin. “I get it. David put you up to this.”

  Ms. Jankowski squared her shoulders. “I assure to.fy sat byou, Ms. Thatcher, I take my duties as a cupid section chief quite seriously. Human-Integral courtships are only authorized under the dictates of formal procedures long codified into Integral law.” She narrowed her eyes. “Everything is spelled out clearly in the Lover’s Edict, passed at the meeting of the Inter-Deity Summit of 1257, which, as you may not know, led to the eventual incorporation—”