The Bridesmaid Earns Her Wings Page 3

  “Dixie? Is that you? Are you okay?” Yup, her mother sounded frantic. So what else was new?

  “We’re fine, Mom. I just wanted to let you know that we’re having so much fun here that Stacy and I are going to stay a few more days in Vegas.” She felt a twinge of guilt at the lie, but she was determined not to be forced to come home before she was ready. She’d felt a taste of freedom — and she liked it.

  “Oh, honey, I’m worried about you. Please come home.”

  Dixie closed her eyes. “I love you, Mom. I’ll see you in a few days. I’ll call you every day and let you know I’m okay.”

  “But, honey—”

  “Bye, Mom. I love you.” She hung up and tossed the phone in her purse. “Okay. Done.”

  Stacy raised an eyebrow. “I’m witnessing a rebel at work.”

  “Yeah. Some rebel.”

  “Definitely.” Stacy motioned to the hotel. “I’ll go check us in if you’ll bag the trash in the backseat.”

  “No way. We’ll toss a coin for that privilege.”

  Stacy grabbed the quarter they’d been using for that purpose, tossed it, grabbed it, and laid it on her arm, covered by her hand. “You call it.”

  “Heads.”

  Stacy lifted her hand and moved her arm so Dixie could see. “Too bad; it’s tails. That means you get to clean up this time.”

  Dixie frowned. “I cleaned up on the last trip.”

  “What can I say? You don’t call ’em very well.”

  While Stacy climbed out of the car, Dixie pulled out a trash bag and turned around, kneeling on her seat. She scooped up the remains of their eating frenzy and then put the full bag in a large trash can outside the building.

  Brushing the remaining crumbs from her hands, she grabbed both their suitcases and wheeled them into the lobby.

  The place was amazing. Shades of emerald green and charcoal gray were the dominant colors in the sleek, modern hotel. The plush carpet had an elaborate geometric design and the registration desk boasted a gleaming wood that she couldn’t identify.

  As she began pulling the luggage toward the desk, Stacy turned away from it with a frown and walked toward Dixie, shaking her head. “No vacancies.”

  “Darn. This place looks really nice, too.”

  Dejected, Stacy kept walking slowly toward the door. “Yeah. We couldn’t afford it, even if they did have a vacancy.”

  “Wait!” the woman at the desk called out, waving frantically. A man stood beside her.

  They turned back and she said, “I just realized we do have a vacancy.”

  “Apparently you’re the one with the magic touch,” Stacy whispered. “See if you can get this one for free, Lady Luck.”

  Dixie laughed and walked toward the desk. The woman bowed her head, and Dixie bowed hers. When in Rome was turning out to be extra weird.

  “Are you sure you want to stay here?” the woman asked. “What about the castle?”

  “We were in the castle last night, but this place is wonderful. I love all the detailing and the antiques.”

  “We have a suite available for you.”

  “Oh, we can’t afford that, I’m sure,” Dixie said. “But thank you. I’m sure it’s beautiful.”

  She turned to go when the woman said, “There will be no charge.”

  Dixie exchanged an amused glance with Stacy and said, “How can that be?”

  “We want to make a good impression with the right people.”

  Dixie pondered that. She and Stacy were hardly the right people, but maybe Stacy was right. Her streak of good luck was extending beyond Vegas. Still not sure she’d heard right, she asked, “Really?”

  The woman nodded. “We insist. For as long as you would like to stay.”

  Still confused, but not willing to look a gift horse — or maybe she should say unicorn — in the mouth, she smiled gratefully. “That is so kind of you. Everyone here in town is so very nice.”

  Stacy asked the woman, “Is there a restaurant that you recommend?”

  “We have the Empress Tea Lodge here inside the hotel, or there is a restaurant named Incognito a block east of here. There is nothing else good enough for you, Princess.”

  Wow. That psychic had nailed the princess stuff.

  “Thank you,” Dixie said. “We’ll get settled in our room and then get some food.”

  The man held out a key card and did a small courtesy bow. “If you’d like, our bellboy will take your bags to your rooms.”

  “Thank you. You really are too kind.”

  As they walked out of the hotel into the sunshine, Dixie slipped on her sunglasses, spread out her arms, and called out, “I love this town!”

  A Job Listing in the Carpe Noctem News

  “BOY, WHEN YOU HAVE A streak of good luck, it just keeps on coming, doesn’t it?” Stacy stared in amazement after the waiter, who’d just informed them that their lunch was on the house.

  “I know. Isn’t it great?” Dixie looked down at her shepherd’s pie — advertised on the A Bite to Eat Café’s menu as food your mummy used to make. “This looks delicious.” A single bite told her it was.

  Stacy’s must have been too, because she was digging in to her shepherd’s pie just as heartily.

  When they slowed down, Stacy said, “We have enough cash to stay here for a week, especially if the hotel isn’t charging us. I really hope there’s not some catch to that; some retroactive fine print.”

  “Let’s not jinx it by studying it too closely. I’ve always been lucky. Not quite this lucky, but lucky enough. Besides, there’s something about this town that calls to me. I don’t know how to describe it. I just feel more peaceful here.”

  “I do, too.” Stacy sighed. “Do you suppose we ought to split a dessert?”

  “As opposed to not having one?”

  “No, silly. Instead of each getting our own.”

  “Let’s get our own. You don’t share well.”

  Stacy sighed and reached for the dessert menu. “You know me too well. I have become predictable.”

  “You are anything but predictable, Stacy Thompson.” Dixie looked out the window. “This town really does feel magical. It’s quaint, it’s unique, it’s amazing.”

  As they took their last bite, a woman walked up carrying two plates. “I couldn’t help overhearing that you’d like desserts. This is our Monday special. Cinnamon Trolls. On the house. Welcome to town.”

  Again, Dixie was blown away by the generosity and warm welcome they’d received since their arrival. “Thank you so much.”

  The server beamed, her smile huge as she walked away.

  Dixie exchanged another glance with Stacy, who raised her hands. “Who am I to question your good luck streak? Just name whatever you want and you’ll get it apparently.”

  “Then I’d like a million dollars.” Dixie paused and looked around. “What? It’s not going to arrive immediately?”

  “Oh, give it five minutes.” Stacy took a bite of the dessert and groaned. “Oh, now I’ve died and gone to heaven. Try this.”

  Dixie pulled the dessert plate holding her Cinnamon Troll closer. The rolls had the regular swirls of baked dough sprinkled with cinnamon and sugar, but the dough in the middle rose into what looked amazingly like a troll should look like. And it was frosted in green icing.

  She popped a piece into her mouth. “Wow.”

  “I know.” Stacy took another bite. “I’m going to speed up so I get more than half.”

  Dixie laughed. “You do that, and I’ll just order another one.”

  After they’d spooned up the last scrumptious bite, the two of them set down their forks, leaned back, and sighed in unison. Then laughed as the surreal situation.

  Dixie said, “I think I’m going to find a job.”

  “You don’t need a job. Like I said, we can stay for a week, easy.”

  “I know, but I think I’d like to get something more permanent. I kind of already feel like I belong here. Maybe it’s just the newness, but weir
dly enough, I’m serious.”

  “Really?” Stacy studied her. “Your mother’s definitely not going to like that.”

  The waiter walked toward them as Dixie said, “I know. That’s probably part of the charm,” she admitted. “But I really like this town. I wonder what jobs there are here.”

  The waiter bowed and said, “We have an opening, and we would be honored to have you work here.”

  Stacy raised an eyebrow in surprise. “Does that include me?”

  The man bowed again. “Of course.”

  Dixie said, “Would you give us a day to decide?”

  “Certainly.”

  Dixie reached for the free town newspaper she’d been handed as they had walked past the newspaper office earlier. Carpe Noctem News. Instead of Seize the Day, Seize the Night. It fit in with the monster theme, like everything else in town. She flipped to the Help Wanted ads. “There are some jobs listed here. A dishwasher.”

  “No thanks,” her friend said. “I can do that at home.”

  “Hey, there’s a job at a law firm.” She smiled over at Stacy. “I’ve always wanted to be an attorney.”

  Stacy leaned over and scoffed. “It’s for a secretary, smart aleck, and you can’t even type.”

  “I can too.”

  “Barely. You are the slowest typist I’ve ever seen.”

  “And I take pride in that accomplishment.”

  Dixie’s phone rang. It was her mother again. She sighed.

  “Better get that. She has some kind of mother sense when something’s not right. She probably senses that you’re lying to her. She might be on her way here without even knowing you’re here.”

  “Probably.” Dixie pushed the ACCEPT button. “Hi, Mom. I’m still okay.”

  “Do not be flippant with me, Dixieanna, and do not hang up on me again.”

  Dixie sighed. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Repeat after me: I will keep my true worth hidden.”

  “I will keep my — wait. No, Mom. I don’t want my true worth hidden. I’ve been doing that my entire life. I love you, but I’ve got to go. Everyone’s waiting for me.” And she hung up again.

  “Wow.” Stacy’s eyes were huge. “You are in such trouble.”

  Dixie straightened in her seat and pulled out enough cash for a generous tip. She laid it on the table. “I’ve decided I am going to stay in town for longer than a week.”

  Stacy rolled her eyes. “It’s like I’m witnessing a jail break.”

  Insistently, Dixie shook her head and continued. “I’m serious. I’m ready for something new, and this place is cute and I’ve never met such nice people. I like it here, and I’m going to stay, at least for a little while. I’m going to apply for this job.”

  “But seriously, you can’t even type. There’s no way you’ll get this job.”

  “Want to make a wager?” Dixie smiled. “If I get this job with my nonexistent typing skills, it will be a sign that I’m supposed to stay in this town.”

  Stacy looked skeptical. “Even with your luck, that’s pushing it.”

  Michael sat at the smallest conference room table with his two younger brothers, Isaac and Ben, also attorneys.

  Isaac had just dropped a stack of files on the table. “There are ten more applicants. And we’re going to meet with all of them today and make a decision.”

  Michael frowned. “We’ve already interviewed twenty applicants. Why so many more?”

  “Dad has officially decreed,” Isaac said solemnly.

  Ben shook his head, then dropped it on the folder in front of him. “I wish he’d actually retire.”

  “I already have my favorite for the position,” Isaac declared.

  Ben said, “Would that be the woman you asked out for a date?”

  “No. She was human, but very cute.” Isaac grinned. “I’m thinking the redhead.”

  “Don’t they need more qualifications than just being gorgeous?” asked Michael.

  “Oh, she was definitely qualified. She has a degree in Accounting.”

  “So why are we still interviewing?” Michael asked, but he knew the answer. They all knew. Their father wanted them to keep going, so they’d keep going. The old man had control issues.

  Ben picked up the top file of those remaining and scanned the top page. “This lady types 150 words per minute.”

  Isaac shrugged. “This one has a degree in Business Management.”

  The three of them exchanged glances. “Maybe we could work her up to Office Manager.”

  “Peggy won’t be happy with us giving away her job,” Michael said.

  “Yeah. That one’s overqualified.” Isaac moved the file to the side. “We can’t afford to offend Peggy. She runs this place.”

  “Can we hire someone who can spell this time?” Ben asked. “And who isn’t texting all the time? It’s getting harder and harder to find good help.”

  “Back in the 1880s, the secretaries were more focused on their work.”

  “Before electronics, everyone was more focused.”

  Isaac said, “Ben, you get to interview the next one.”

  Michael suddenly felt a buzzing along his limbs, something he’d never experienced before. It happened so abruptly that it took him a minute to realize what it might be. He’d heard it described, but had never felt the lifemate buzz.

  Lifemate? Surely not. But he felt something.

  Did that mean his lifemate was in the vicinity? The feeling was weaker than he’d expected, but maybe she was out on the street.

  “I need some water,” Michael said, standing.

  “I’ll ring for some.”

  “No, that’s all right. I need to walk.” He wasn’t about to say anything about a lifemate to his brothers, but he stepped out into the hall and started walking. He was probably imagining the feeling, anyway. He’d walk a circuit around the offices and come back with water.

  He walked past the lobby — and then backed up.

  A woman was standing in front of the Revealing Mirror. She was studying herself in it, an amazed look on her face. The buzzing increased and his eyes widened.

  The woman turned. “Wow. Wings. And a crown. This mirror is awesome.”

  Princess Pixie. He’d met her twice before but never felt this.

  The lifemate feeling wasn’t as strong as he’d heard it described, but it was definitely there.

  He caught Peggy’s eye at her desk in the lobby. She liked to greet the clients. The phones were answered by a receptionist in a back office.

  The office manager raised her eyebrows and pointed discreetly.

  Michael nodded back and strolled over to the princess. “May I help you?”

  She looked up at him and said, “This mirror is amazing. I look like a butterfly and look, you look like you have fangs. It’s like Moonchuckle Bay Studio special effects in a law office. That’s so incredibly cool. I would love to work here.”

  “Work?” His heart did a little flip.

  “Yes. I’m applying for the position of secretary.”

  He blurted out, “What will your father say?”

  “Nothing, I’m sure.” She looked puzzled and then explained. “I don’t have a father.”

  Oh, but she definitely did, and the king of the pixies wouldn’t be pleased to have his daughter working here, at the very law office that had won a case against the fae just last year. But apparently she didn’t want the job based on her parentage.

  Okay, he could deal with that. Ben wasn’t going to interview the next applicant, after all — Michael wanted her all to himself. He put out his hand. “I’m Michael Murphy. I’ll be the one interviewing you for the position.”

  She smiled a megawatt smile — one he’d never seen the princess use before — and said, “I’m Dixie Abbott.”

  She was even using a bogus name. He could live with that, too.

  Especially when her hand touched his and the buzzing feeling increased and pulsed through him. Her eyes widened as she pulled her hand back and s
tudied it. Did that mean she’d felt it, too?

  He cleared his throat and motioned up the hall. “This way, Ms. Abbott.”

  “I prefer Dixie.”

  He caught Peggy’s eye as he passed her desk. The woman had nothing to say. Not her usual state, but sort of interesting.

  Michael led Princess Pixie — he had to remember to call her Dixie — to his office.

  After she sat, he settled himself in the chair next to her rather than behind the desk. “Did Peggy work up a file for you? I don’t remember seeing yours in the stack of applicants.”

  “Actually, I had just walked in to apply when you found me. I’d only made it as far as admiring your mirror.”

  “Well, no matter, paperwork can always be handled afterward. I’ll just ask you a few questions now, to get to know a little about you and your qualifications.”

  She smiled brightly. “Is this where I tell you about all my strengths and weaknesses?”

  “It is.” He smiled back, and his heart danced. “Go ahead.”

  “My strength is flowers.”

  “Flowers.” He gave her an amused smile. “That’s interesting.”

  “Yes. I have a degree in botany, and I absolutely love flowers and plants. I noticed those by your entrance need some fertilizer. If you’ll let me order some, I can have them looking better in no time.”

  Of course a pixie would be good with flowers. But he hadn’t heard that Princess Pixie had a degree in botany; he thought she’d majored in horticulture. Plant-related, but not botany. Perhaps he’d heard incorrectly. Or maybe she’d just added another lie to her bogus identity. She was so pretty, he didn’t really care. As if anyone in town would believe any of her story. They’d do just as he was doing, smile indulgently and take care of her until her father stormed into town to retrieve her.

  But the others in town might not have this overwhelming urge to make her their lifemate, or at least he hoped not.

  “And this plant on your credenza?” She pointed, her face still lit with her love of flowers.

  He looked at it for the first time since his mother had given it to him. “Yes?”

  “It needs more water. I’ll make sure I perk it up, too.” She motioned around the room. “I love this office. Is this desk made out of oak?”