ACCIDENTAL UNICORN, THE

by Cassidy, Dakota

  She most especially didn’t like doing it after her mother had stolen something from Dorinda. It only supported the evidence that Alice was beneath them. But they had no choice. If that book had a way to fix this, Vinnie was determined to find it.

  But she still hated how small she felt when up against someone like Dorinda.

  “You ready to go fuck up some elitist dumpster trash?” Nina asked Vinnie, pulling her hoodie up over her glorious mane of hair.

  But maybe it wouldn’t be so bad with Nina by her side.

  Vinnie smiled.

  Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad at all.

  They pulled into Dorinda’s long, custom-paved driveway to the circle in front of her magnificent glass-etched double doors. Not much had changed about the place, Vinnie noted. They still had a line of manicured topiaries, their round tops covered in twinkling lights that winked at you as you passed by.

  The fountain in the middle of the circular portion of the driveway was still as spectacular and lavish as it had been when Vinnie was ten and had attended Byron’s magical birthday party. Colored lights sat deep in the water, each splash of the fountain bringing with it a rainbow of muted hues.

  The lawn spread out on both sides and pushed well toward the back of the mansion where, upon arriving at Byron’s bash all those years ago, jugglers dressed as court jesters had juggled sparkling balls and acrobats dressed in bright primary colors had tumbled and flew in the air to greet guests.

  The lawn itself was as green as ever, despite the nature of the season. In fact, it was at this very spot where Vinnie had begged her mother to take her home, knowing she was out of place at such a lavish affair.

  She inhaled a breath and let it out slowly while the women assessed the landscape of things.

  Nina peered out the window, her eyes taking in the grandness of it all. “Fuck. I thought my house was big.”

  “You live in a castle, Mistress of The Night. It is big,” Marty chirped from the driver’s seat.

  “You live in a castle?” Oliver asked, cocking his head so the streetlights caught the glow of his horn as he looked around at the enormous stone mansion with columns along the front porch as high and as far as the eye could see.

  Nina turned around and looked at him, her eyes glittering. “Yeah. So?”

  “You’re one of the most fascinating people I’ve ever met, Nina,” Oliver quipped as he looked out the window of the big SUV, his eyes wide.

  Marty giggled as she put the car in park and turned to look at Oliver. “She’s probably also the meanest. Now, you stay here, buddy. Do not move. I mean it. We’ll be as quick as we can.”

  But Oliver frowned. “I don’t understand why I can’t go with you. You are helping me, after all. The least I can do is help you.”

  “We don’t fucking need your help, Sparkle Tits. I think you know that.”

  Vinnie, who’d sat beside him quietly the entire ride to Dorinda’s, thinking about what she’d say, dreading how much she hated that she had to say anything, patted his muscled arm.

  “What Nina means to say is, clearly they’re fully equipped to handle a situation, should one involving fisticuffs arise. But also, letting Dorinda see your horn, see that it actually exists, probably isn’t a good idea. I don’t know Dorinda well enough to know if she can be trusted. I’d venture probably not, because let’s face it, she’s all about appearances and showing us all how rich and Goddess-like she is. Imagine what she could do with this kind of information? You’re rare, Oliver. There are no others like you. She’d have you in a gilded cage before you could say sparkle tits.”

  Oliver chuckled. “But we could just hide it like we did earlier today for my meeting with your mother. I don’t feel good about you guys going in there when I’m the reason you’re putting yourselves in danger.”

  “I don’t think we can camouflage that horn anymore, Oliver. It’s grown just over the course of the afternoon alone. What explanation will ever convince anyone you’re not a unicorn when I’m asking about unicorns and you have a protrusion popping out of your forehead that, even with the gauze bandage, looks like a protrusion coming out of your forehead? You don’t think that’ll look at all suspicious to Dorinda?” Vinnie asked.

  “Fine,” Oliver said with resignation in his husky tone. “But I feel kind of stupid just sitting here.”

  “You look stupid, too,” Nina said on a snort.

  Marty drove a finger into her friend’s shoulder. “Shut up, Nina. Listen, Oliver. I get that you feel helpless, but you’re a handicap at this point just by the nature of how you look. If Dorinda’s a gossiper, which from what Vinnie tells us is true, we can’t afford to have her spreading your misfortune around. We have enough on our plate with just your existence.”

  “So even though I’m now considered paranormal just like all of you, I can’t tell anyone because, one, I’m the only unicorn in the land, and two, rather than welcome me into the fold, my new people would put me on the auction block and sell me to the highest bidder?”

  “Ain’t that some shit?” Nina asked. “So stay the fuck here. Swear to shit, I’ll kill you if you come inside, Oliver. If you hear anything fishy, text us. If you think we’re eyeball deep in something, text Darnell and our husbands, understood? Do not make this harder than it has to be. We don’t want you to get caught, but we also don’t want Mama Bear to get fucked, either. So keep that damn hood over your head and lay low. We’ll be as fast as we can.”

  Oliver’s face said it all, but Vinnie gave him a sympathetic smile. “I’ll go as quick as I can. See you in a bit.”

  But he grabbed her hand and tightened his grip, stopping her from exiting the car, the look on his gorgeous face one of concern. “Be careful, okay? All of you be careful.”

  She didn’t know why he was so worried, but she sought to reassure him. “It’s no big deal, Oliver. I’m just going to ask her some questions under the pretense of teaching a class about unicorns while Nina pretends to use the bathroom and hunts down that book. If Dorinda has a chance for an audience, she’ll take it. It’s going to be fine. I promise.” She gave his warm, broad hand one last pat and slipped from the car.

  As the three women approached Dorinda’s massive front porch, their reflections in the tall sidelights beside the door, Vinnie caught a glimpse of the three of them as a trio.

  Nina’s hoodie had fallen from her head, leaving her glorious mane of black hair to billow around her shoulders and breasts, shiny and luxurious. Her legs were long and lean, taking extensive strides to the front porch as though she were on a catwalk, and even in jeans and a black T-shirt that read, “Keep It Up. You Could Be The Funny Smell In My Trunk,” paired with clunky work boots, she looked like a supermodel.

  Marty’s hair billowed, too. Beautiful and blonde, the beach waves that blew away from her face kissed the cold wind, bouncing about her shoulders and back. Her hoop earrings dangled and glimmered, and though not as tall as Nina, she wore thigh-high gray boots with a stiletto heel, a chunky purple sweater and faded blue skinny jeans like they were made for her.

  Vinnie, in comparison, felt a bit like the short, average-looking Charlie’s Angel who was a fill-in until the beautiful, willowy costar could return from maternity leave.

  She’d watched all the reruns as a child, and even in a day and age when misogyny was at its height, they’d still been pretty kick-ass.

  And hello, as a kid, who didn’t want the chance to be a Charlie’s Angel—even if they were the dumpy angel?

  As Nina pressed her finger to the doorbell, Vinnie felt her stomach lurch and her heart race. A sure sign her anxiety was going to rear its ugly head.

  But then she asked herself, what would Jaclyn Smith, her favorite angel of all, do in the face of adversity?

  Would she cower between Farah and Kate like a chickenshit? Or would she rise to the occasion?

  Lifting her chin, Vinnie decided Kelly Garrett would set all her insecurities aside and show Dorinda she was a strong, capable woman now, and
all her stupid snide remarks when she was a kid were the shit under her shoes.

  Yeah.

  Chapter 10

  Okay, maybe Kelly Garrett would sashay her way into Dorinda’s enormous mansion like she owned the joint, but Vinnie Morretti decided the second she saw Dorinda walking toward the big doors through the thick etched glass, she was no damn Kelly Garrett.

  She wasn’t even Shelley Hack.

  But the moment Vinnie considered bolting, her feet doing a little shuffle, was the moment both Nina and Marty latched onto her and firmly kept her in place.

  “Man, you guys are strong,” she muttered, trying to remove her arms from their iron grips, but Nina leaned into her.

  “Are you gonna let this bitch fuck with your head, Vinnie Morretti? Are you gonna let her intimidate you? The fuck I say. You stand right the fuck there and watch us work.”

  As Vinnie’s knees began to tremble, Marty threw a gorgeous smile on her face and extended her hand just as Dorinda, in all her aging Goddess beauty, flung the doors open wide.

  “You must be Dorinda,” Marty cooed at the woman, lifting her chin in the friendliest display of haughty to which Vinnie had ever borne witness.

  Dorinda, her platinum-blonde hair piled high atop her head, her flowing red maxi-dress adorned with one jewel or another, took Marty’s hand, the diamond and sapphire rings on her aging fingers sparkling under the porch lights. She was just shy a martini in one hand and a long cigarillo in the other.

  Vinnie used to think she was chic and worldly, and she’d never failed to intimidate her whenever she crossed paths with the Goddess.

  Dorinda smiled the smile Vinnie remembered from her childhood, fake warm, and condescending as all hell.

  Cocking her head, she looked at both Marty and Nina, giving them a critical once-over. “I already know Vincenza, of course. You ladies are…?”

  Marty smiled accommodatingly at her while Nina remained stone-faced and rigid. “I’m Marty Flaherty and this is Nina Statleon. We’re friends of Vinnie. We happened to be partaking in a little girls’ night out—I’m sure you know about those, right?” Marty winked an eye, batting her long lashes. “Vinnie was with us when she got the text from her mother, but she’d had a little wine, because you know, girls’ night, and so we offered to drive her over here because we know how crucial preparation is for this class she’s going to be teaching. Right, girlfriend?” Marty asked, wrapping an arm around her neck and pulling Vinnie close to her side.

  “Right,” Vinnie muttered.

  “Yeah,” Nina agreed with a grunt, giving Dorinda the business with her eyes. “Girls’ night.”

  “How nice that you have friends now, Vincenza,” the Goddess drawled.

  Was that a crack about how friendless she’d been all throughout school? Because ouch.

  Of course it was, Vinnie, because Dorinda’s a stuck-up snob who likes to poke fun at who she considers the less fortunate, and she doesn’t even bother to try to hide it.

  “How nice that you still have the same hairdo you had when she was a kid,” Nina said, her eyes glued to Dorinda’s face.

  Dorinda sucked in her cheeks and took a deep, haughty breath. “How can I help you ladies?”

  Nina leaned forward just enough to look like she might eat Dorinda’s face off. “Can we come in or do you wanna do this on the front porch?”

  Dorinda’s nostrils flared as she stepped back. “Vampire?”

  “In the flesh,” Nina responded, rolling her tongue along the inside of her cheek.

  Dorinda took another small step backward. “Is the myth true about inviting you into my home?”

  Nina’s eyes narrowed, glittering under the porch’s globe lights. “You wanna take a stab at it and see?”

  Marty quickly put an arm in front of Nina to intervene. “No. It’s not true. No more true than you’ll turn a man to stone if he looks at you. Or will you?” Marty asked with a wink and a giggle. “Anyway, I’m a werewolf, if knowing our origins is your thing. I promise not to shed on your carpets. Now, shall we? We’d hate to take up too much of your time, Miss Dorinda. I’m sure you’re as busy as we are. Running a cosmetics company while having just merged with another large corporation is exhausting. Surely you understand what it is to be a corporate woman in this day and age?”

  Slam!

  Vinnie fought not to laugh out loud at the look on Dorinda’s face.

  Dorinda hadn’t worked a day in her life. Her husband was some big-time defense attorney—he owned law offices all over New York. She’d been an arm piece for her husband back in the day and not much more.

  “Oh, I never worked. I stayed home to raise my son and daughter. It’s so important to their development,” she responded with a catty smile, her red lips only slightly tilting upward.

  What she meant was, nannies and maids had raised Byron and Donna while she’d shopped in Paris and Italy and spent the days she was actually home at some fancy spa.

  Even at ten, Vinnie knew Dorinda only played at being a parent when the situation called for one to show up. But she’d been no more involved in Byron’s and Donna’s lives than a deadbeat dad who’s forced to pay child support. She was all show, no substance.

  In that respect, she had to give it to her mother. She might have thrust a life on Vinnie she didn’t want, but she’d always been there for her. Every award, every accolade, her mother had shown up.

  Marty nodded as the roar of a sports car zoomed up the driveway. “Oh, absolutely. I couldn’t agree more. It’s crucial for their character, their work ethic, their integrity… Speaking of, is that your son?” she asked, pointing to the shiny red Corvette, where a lithe blonde holding a champagne flute hung out the window and waved a long arm.

  Music blared from the radio as Byron stumbled out onto the driveway, tripping over his feet.

  “Yep. That’s Byron,” Vinnie assured her. She hadn’t seen him in what felt like a million years, but she’d know his slicked-back look anywhere.

  Marty cocked her head, bringing her shoulder to her chin with a coy smile. “Staying at home to raise your son paid off wonderfully, didn’t it? Now, shall we?” She swept her arm toward the entryway of Dorinda’s mansion. “I have an insanely busy day tomorrow—at work.”

  Dorinda lifted her sharp chin, but she stepped back and let them all inside, pointing toward the room directly in front of them. “If you’ll have a seat in the parlor, I’ll have Mavis make us some tea. Excuse me.”

  As the Goddess took her leave to arrange refreshment, Vinnie exhaled a long breath. One, because she hoped Byron would go the hell away and she wouldn’t have to see him. Two, because these women, or at least Marty, knew how to give you hell all while smiling in your face.

  It had been such a relief not to have to deal with Dorinda alone while she stumbled over her words and felt like a big blob of stupid.

  Marty hooked her arm through Vinnie’s and pulled her to the opulent parlor. Who called their living room a parlor, anyway?

  “You okay?” Marty asked, giving her shoulder a light nudge.

  “I’m fine.” That’s what her answer was to everything. I’m fine. Everything’s fine. Fine. Fine. Finer than fine.

  “No you’re not,” Nina shot back with an impatient growl. “Stand up straight, Vincenza Raphaela Morretti. You’re an adult now. You don’t have to take Miss Highbrow’s snide subtext and bullshit dirty looks like you did when you were a kid. You’re an accomplished fucking adult who has an impressive job and a house and isn’t stumbling the fuck around in your mommy and daddy’s driveway with some blonde, higher than a damn kite.”

  Nina stepped in front of Vinnie, pinning her to the spot with her intense black gaze. “Listen, I can smell the anxiety on you. You reek of it, and I get it. I’m not bashing you because of it. I understand it’s real. But I’m fucking here to tell you, you’re worthy. Way the fuck more worthy than this piece of shit and her piece-of-shit kid and his Corvette. Okay? So you ask all the questions you need to and stall her
while I do my thing, but do not—I repeat—do not let her make you feel like you’re the shit on her shoe, because I won’t have it. She can’t make you feel that way unless you let her. Period.”

  Marty pinched Nina’s cheek and blew her a kiss Nina made a face at. “I love you, vampire.” Then she looked to Vinnie and nodded. “She’s right, you know. I understand your anxiety plays a role in this, and how she made you feel as a child is rearing its ugly head, but she’s not allowed to get in your head unless you invite her in. You’re strong and smart and, most importantly, kind. Now, I know it’s easier said than done, but I’m going to need you to at least try to hold your head up like you mean it. You’re an accomplished woman. Not a washed-up Goddess with some twisted, misplaced sense of entitlement. Got it?”

  Vinnie nodded, even though she didn’t necessarily feel it. This was for Oliver. She had to make this right.

  Squaring her shoulders, she looked past the baby grand piano by the floor-to-ceiling windows with elaborate silk curtains and readied herself for battle.

  Why she felt like it was a battle made no sense. Dorinda was just a mouthy Goddess with a lot of time on her hands. But it felt like battle.

  “Vincenza Morretti? Is that you?” a voice from behind them said.

  Vinnie turned around, her stomach twisting into the knot she’d just begun to untwist. “Byron?”

  “Daaamn, look at you,” he crowed with a slur as he entered the parlor, his steps crooked and wobbly as the lithe blonde in a tight dress meant for clubbing clung to his waist. His handsome features hadn’t changed much in all these years. He was still good-looking in a very groomed way. His dark hair slicked back from his face and his tan healthy, despite the fact that he was blotto. “How the hell are ya? Haven’t seen you in what, fifteen years?”

  Actually, it had been more like eighteen, and it was on the playground at their school just before she’d shot up ahead of her class and been promoted to a much higher grade than her classmates, but who was counting?