by Dara England
Yeah, this was a dangerous direction his thoughts were taking. He was suddenly eager to escape.
“Hey, listen, I have to get moving.” He made a pretense of glancing at his watch.
She started to protest, “But you’ve only been here a few minutes. We’ve barely talked.”
“Uh-huh, but I’ve got a mountain of work to catch up on.”
“Work.” She narrowed her eyes. “You know, I’m not going to give up on this. Your days working in that office are over.”
“Right,” he said vaguely, discarding his chow mein carton and sliding out of his seat. “Listen, I’ll catch you later. Or not.” He hesitated. “You really don’t have to hang around, godmother.”
“Call me Ambrielle.”
“Sure, Ambrielle. I appreciate all you’re trying to do for me, but I really think you’d be better off going back to…” He wanted to say Fairyland but didn’t know if she’d take that as a flippant remark. Where exactly did fairy godmothers live, anyway?
She rescued him. “Sorry to squash your hopes, Danny, but I’ll be right here when you get back.”
“Right here? As in right here?” How could he work when every time he passed the office window he was gonna have to glance down and see her sitting and waiting, like some kind of vulture?
She smiled. “Maybe. Now you’d better rush off. Showing up late might cause trouble with the boss and that kind of thing could cost a man in your precarious position his job.”
He didn’t like her choice of words, or the scheming glint in her eyes as she said it. But what could he do? He turned his back on her, although it felt a little like turning his back on a wolf in a lamb’s skin, and returned to work.
Chapter Six
The rest of the workday was like something out of a twisted dream, the kind of dream where you can’t decide whether you’re supposed to be laughing or afraid. Danny had no sooner returned from his lunch break and sat down to work when the phone where he took his service calls died. A brief examination of the cord revealed it had been pulled from the wall connection. Neither Harry, in the cubicle to his left, nor Diana, on his right, had seen anyone tampering with the cord.
“These things happen,” Mr. Dolhouser, the office manager, said with a shake of his head when Danny reported the problem. Despite his boss’s words, Danny sensed the man somehow blamed him for the malfunctioning phone.
Danny collected his things and moved to an empty cubicle with a working phone at the far end of the office. But if he thought his troubles were over, he was wrong. Immediately after moving into his new workspace he discovered the hardcopy files he needed from his old desk were missing.
“Hey, Diana?” He ducked his head into her cubicle. “Any chance you’ve seen my data files? I swear they were on my desk a minute ago, but it seems like they’ve walked off.”
The young woman wrinkled her freckled nose and shrugged.
A bald head appeared over the wall of the cubicle behind her, followed by a pair of watery eyes peering down on them.
“How about you, Howard?” Danny asked the clumsy eavesdropper.
Silent and socially awkward, Howard had a knack for noticing things no one else picked up on. “I saw a folder,” he admitted, glancing around nervously. “I saw it on your desk but then it floated away.” His eyes rolled ominously.
A guffaw broke out from a passing coworker. “Sounds like you’ve got on the wrong side of a spook, Danny.”
Danny tried to laugh along. “Alright, everybody. I’m getting back to work, but whenever you get tired of this little joke, would whoever moved the file please put it back on my desk?”
It went on like that all afternoon. Most of it was harmless little pranks. Things disappearing from his cubicle or the clock radio at his elbow turning itself on at blaring volume. All of it was disruptive but Danny fought to ignore it because he was developing an unpleasant suspicion about who was responsible and was determined not to give her the satisfaction of victory. She thought she could drive him away with her magic tricks, did she? Thought she could make his work life so miserable he’d want to quit?
He could almost feel her now, breathing over his shoulder, watching his fingers tapping at the keyboard as she planned her next attack.
It came shortly before quitting time. He was minding his own business, typing away at his computer, eyes glued to the screen, when he heard a sharp squeal behind him. Suddenly something heavy clonked him across the back of the head.
“Ow!” He ducked, narrowly avoiding another blow as a plastic clipboard was swung toward him like a club. “Anne, what are you doing?”
Slithering to the floor and ducking low to take shelter behind his chair, he peered cautiously up at the attractive brunette towering over him. He’d never gotten along with Mr. Dolhouser’s female assistant, but it wasn’t like her to bring the feud to blows.
She didn’t look sorry as she stood before him, arms followed across the front of her white blouse. “Serves you right, Daniel,” she snapped. “What do you mean pinching my bottom like that? You just wait until I tell Mr. Dolhouser.”
Danny clutched his throbbing skull. “What do you mean ‘pinching’? I don’t know what you’re babbling about.”
But he did. Horribly, he did. He murmured into the thin air around him. “You’ve gone too far this time.”
If Ambrielle was floating around him somewhere, invisible, she gave no indication she heard.
But Anne did and she glowered at him. “No, it’s you who’ve gone too far, Daniel. There are laws against harassing women in the workplace.”
“Anne, please, just let me explain.”
But she had already whirled and was stalking off toward Mr. Dolhouser’s office, angrily swinging her clipboard as she went. That was probably just as well, since Danny couldn’t imagine what sort of explanation he would’ve given anyway that wouldn’t leave him looking like a lunatic.
He scrambled after Anne with the unpleasant feeling whatever was coming wasn’t going to end well.
* * *
And end well, it didn’t. Danny’s emotions were mixed as he rode the elevator down to the first floor of the office building, carrying a cardboard box full of all his personal effects. He was still on fire with embarrassment after the awkward confrontation in Mr. Dolhouser’s office. Having all his coworkers looking on as security escorted him to his cubicle to collect his things was a silent and humiliating affair.
Now it felt weird, knowing he’d never set foot on this elevator again. For the past five years it had taken him to and from his doom in that tight little cubicle in that stuffy little office. He couldn’t deny he felt a slight twinge of relief at the knowledge he would never see this hated place or any of these people again. But the bad feelings outweighed the good. He’d been fired, something that had never happened to him before. He’d been falsely accused, humiliated, and chewed out by his boss. He faced unemployment and a possible lawsuit. All because some godmother had decided to meddle.
As he crossed the parking lot and loaded the box into the passenger seat of his car, he didn’t even glance across the street toward the park. Nevertheless, he had no doubt she was out there somewhere, watching.
Chapter Seven
“Sexual harassment?” Danny stood in the doorway to the apartment, staring at the fairy woman in disbelief. Unperturbed by his deadly glare or by the happy little Brutus skipping around her feet, she bustled around the kitchen, scarcely even glancing up from her work. A cookbook lay open on the counter and a light dusting of flour coated Ambrielle’s hands. She had ditched her previous clothing yet again for a more casual outfit of a pink blouse and denim capris. A polka-dotted apron covered her from neck to slender waist with the instructions Kiss the Fairy across the front. Danny felt like doing anything but.
“And harassment toward a coworker at that,” she said lightly. “You should be ashamed of yourself, Danny.” Her curly head remained bent over the cookbook.
Danny dropped the cardboard box he
had been lugging. It hit the floor with a thud that echoed through the still apartment, but Ambrielle didn’t even start at the noise.
“I was ashamed,” he agreed in a dangerous tone. “Thanks to you, my coworkers now think I’m a perv, and Anne is threatening to bring charges to court.”
“And all because you had to be stubborn.”
“All because what?”
She faced him. “I warned you to give notice, but you wouldn’t listen. I gave you the chance to get away without a fuss, but you wouldn’t take it. What is that but stubbornness?”
She stood before him, not defiantly, but with a casual air as if they were discussing dinner options or talking about what was going to be on TV. Her easy attitude was what got to him most. She wasn’t concerned with his troubles. Why should she be? This wasn’t her life she was ruining.
Something in him snapped then. He took hold of her narrow shoulders, turning her to face him. “I’m sure you mean well,” he said. “I don’t doubt you even think you’re doing me some good. But, frankly, this godmother thing isn’t working out. And so, without further ado I just want to say ‘goodbye and good luck.’”
And before she could react, he suddenly swept her slender body up in his arms. A startled squeak escaped her lips, but he didn’t give her time to get another word out. Didn’t they always say something in the stories about not giving fairies a chance to put a spell on you?
He carried her swiftly to the open front door, deposited her lightly in the empty hall, and retreated as soon as her feet touched the carpet, slamming the apartment door in her face.
At his feet, Brutus whined and gave him a reproachful look, but he didn’t care. Alone again, peace and well-being rolled over him. He still faced unemployment and a possible lawsuit from a coworker, but it was amazing how taking just one right step could make all the other pieces of your life fall into place. He’d take a relaxing evening off—he deserved it—and save his troubles for another day.
His stomach rumbled sharply, reminding him he hadn’t eaten a full meal at lunchtime because he’d been in such a rush to escape Ambrielle. Now the smells coming from the oven made his mouth water. He also remembered his late rise this morning and how he’d had to scurry to get ready for work. There’d been no time for a shower or a shave. He’d take care of that now, while dinner was cooking.
But first he needed to make sure he’d taken care of the godmother infestation around here. He pressed an ear to the front door and listened. No sound filtered through.
All the same, he turned the lock and twisted the dead bolt for added security. With an angry fairy you could never be too careful. Then, whistling contentedly, he meandered down the hallway toward the bathroom, unbuttoning his shirt as he went. He felt good for the first time all day.
Stepping into the bathroom, he started the water running and ducked back down the hall to see if he could find a change of clothes amid the mess Ambrielle had made of his bedroom.
Chapter Eight
“What the…? How did you get in here?”
Ambrielle didn’t even open her eyes at the exclamations coming from the bathroom doorway, but sank a little deeper into the warm tub of water, letting the scented bubble bath close over her like a thick, foamy blanket. The heat felt good after a long day of wandering the real world, her ethereal feet bound up in very physical shoes. It was something she would have to get used to. With her heightened fairy senses, everything in their world seemed more painful and uncomfortable than it was in hers. Then again, the pleasure of a hot bath seemed somehow magnified for it, so maybe it was an even trade.
“I thought I was rid of you. I don’t understand…”
He sounded so confused that she took pity on him and peeped one eye open. “Of course you don’t, Danny. But tell me what, specifically, confuses you and I’ll try to shed some light on it.”
He shook his head. “I locked you out. I distinctly remember turning the bolt. Then I walked in here, I ran the water…”
“And that was nice of you. You must have realized how I needed a soak.”
He just stared blankly through her. “I went to my room, dug around in that hippy den you’ve made of it, looking for my clothes—”
“Don’t strain your brain trying to make sense of it. Magical transportation isn’t something you could understand.”
He was starting to look angry. “You can’t keep coming back into people’s houses after they’ve thrown you out.”
“Hmm, the evidence would suggest the contrary. I just did it, so obviously I can.”
“This is breaking and entering.”
“Since nothing was broken, technically it’s only entering.”
“I could call the cops and have you removed.”
“By telling them what? Your fairy godmother won’t stay out of your bathtub?”
“That’s enough. I’m finished with you, fairy, do you hear? I want you to take all your little fairy clothes and your wings and your wands and whatever else you’ve got stowed around here and be gone.”
“Or what?” She scooped up a handful of bubbles and blew them toward the ceiling. What made him so irritable all of a sudden? Then she remembered he had always been an anxious child so maybe that explained how he’d grown into such an impatient man. Sometimes people couldn’t help these things—really they couldn’t.
She said, “What exactly is it that you want from me, Danny? How can I improve your bad day?”
He eyed her suspiciously, as if uncertain what to make of such an offer. “Like I said, you can start by getting out.”
She shrugged. “If that’s what you want. But I’m not going anywhere on an empty stomach. I’ve got dinner in the oven.”
He seemed to consider it. “If one last dinner is what it will take to get you out of here, dinner it is. But let’s not drag it out.”
“As you wish. I’ll be right out.” She gripped the sides of the tub.
“Whoa, hey, not until I’m gone.” He backed hastily out the door. “I’ve got enough twisted godmother memories from the shower this morning, thank you.”
Well, that was one way of getting rid of him. Ambrielle whispered a spell and a set of clothing magically appeared, folded and waiting for her atop the counter. As she dressed, she applied her thoughts to how she was going to finish her work with Danny.
A sharp tap at the door betrayed his impatience to send her on her way. “Are you coming or not?” he called through the door. “Let’s get on with this.”
She shook her hair out and forced a carefree smile to her lips, calling back, “Not so fast, I need time to prepare everything. You get out of here and come back in an hour.”
And that was what he did.
* * *
When he returned to the apartment, he was greeted by a scene from a romantic chick-flick. Out on the fire escape a candlelit dinner waited for him, complete with a tiny table for two that the fairy had somehow managed to cram into the small space. There was the usual white tablecloth, champagne glasses, and a vase of roses. Even the long nose of a sleeping dachshund protruding from beneath the edge of the tablecloth didn’t seem terribly out of place.
“What’s all this?”
He had no sooner taken a seat than she thrust a scrap of paper beneath his nose.
She said, “It’s an ad for a small business prospect. A local landscaper is closing up shop and selling off his supplies and storage building lease. It’s not much, but he’s already got a solid customer base, so a new owner might be able to make something of the opportunity.”
“And this has what to do with me?”
“Don’t play dense. Obviously I’m thinking of you buying him out. You took a class in small business management a few years back and it’d be simple enough to take another course on landscaping and turf care. You enjoy working outdoors and this is your chance to be your own boss. And…” She gave him a significant look. “We both know you’re currently in the market for a new job.”
He snorted. �
�And I’m supposed to leap to obey this newest whim of yours?”
“It’s no whim, it’s been percolating in my head for—” She checked her watch. “Almost an hour now.”
“And did you put the same amount of thought into how a guy in my position is supposed to come up with the money to finance this scheme? Even assuming I was interested, and I’m not saying I am, I haven’t got a lot of savings and no bank in their right mind would qualify me for a loan.”
She waved a dismissive hand. “You might be surprised. I know the godmother of a local bank director and she owes me a favor.”
He glared. He hated when she thought of everything. “I’d have to draw up a business plan and work out a budget for that imaginary loan. There’d be a crazy amount of work involved.”
“Then it’s a lucky thing you’ve got plenty of time on your hands.” She produced a notepad and pen, seemingly out of nowhere, and shoved them across the table.
Despite himself, Danny was interested. He knew this was a harebrained scheme born of desperation and fairy dust, but could it possibly succeed? A part of him itched to find out. And she was right; he did hold a certificate in small business management. How had she known about that old ambition he’d all but forgotten years ago? The woman was positively scary when she read his mind.
He took up the pen and began to write.
But no sooner did pen touch paper than he heard the ringing of the phone through the open door. He glanced into the living room, where his cell phone rested on the coffee table.
“That’s Charlotte, calling to make up,” Ambrielle told him as casually as she might have said “I burned the soufflé” or “Go start up a new business you know nothing about.”
“What are you talking about? How could you possibly know that?” he demanded.
She quirked a well-shaped eyebrow.