“I hope you don’t mind, I may have borrowed some ideas for upgrades. Like the elevator,” Ravenna said to him.
“Not at all. This is beautiful. It’s like the Wonderland version of my castle.”
Ravenna laughed again. “I’ll admit, it’s nice to have visitors.”
Phillip suddenly saw her in a whole new light. He hadn’t made an effort to be her friend. To get to know her. Not many in Ever After had. She was the Evil Queen, after all. So why would she have offered to help him with his affliction?
Why would she say yes, even now?
“What made you rebuild your castle? I thought you were content living above the bank?” he asked.
“Like a dragon hoarding my gold, you mean?”
“I’ll be honest. I would,” Phillip confessed.
“Ah, yes, but you’re a man, and you can do all the things I’ve done and all you get is turned into a frog. Me? I’m a pariah.”
“Listen, the change back with dragonfly wings still in my teeth every day for the last three hundred years hasn’t exactly been a picnic.” Then he shook his head. He’d been eating out of doors. That was, by definition, a picnic. “At least not one I’d choose to attend.”
Ravenna wrinkled her nose. “Eww. That’s horrible.” “So, the castle?” Hunter asked.
“There was finally enough magic back in the world that I could. I wasn’t going to take from the town wells that keep us safe from outsiders, so I waited.” She narrowed her eyes.
“But don’t let that confuse anyone. The town wells kept me safe from outsiders, too. It wasn’t selfless or anything.” She lifted her chin.
“Of course not,” Phillip agreed easily.
Hunter said nothing but continued to stare.
“Why is he staring at me?” Ravenna demanded, obviously confused.
“You’re gorgeous?” Phillip shrugged. He thought it would be obvious.
“I want to be terrifying. I want to be the destroyer from the deep. The end of all things. The darkness at the end!”
“Bitch Goddess of Doom,” Esmerelda supplied.
Ravenna nodded. “Gorgeous.” She rolled her eyes. “Bah.”
“Oh, you’re terrifying, too,” Phillip reassured her, while Hunter continued to stare. Phillip kicked him. “Tell her she’s terrifying.”
“Terrifying,” Hunter repeated. “A hurricane. A volcano. An asteroid meaning certain doom.”
“Majesty, he does say the sweetest things,” Esmerelda replied.
“Oh, off with you both.” Ravenna waved them both away. “So, would either of you care for a drink?”
“Bourbon, if you have it.”
“Of course I have it. Or would you rather have a shot of pálinka? It’s a Hungarian plum spirit that will knock you on your ass.”
“Yes, we’ll have that,” Hunter agreed for both of them.
Phillip was glad to have something to steady him because he was having not only second thoughts about asking Ravenna for her help, but also thirds and fourths. Fifths, if they stood there long enough.
He downed the spirit with a practiced hand, and it burned all the way to his gut, but left a surprisingly welcome and sweet warmth in its path.
“So tell me,” Ravenna said after she’d downed her own shot. “Why have you come to see me?”
“Hunter wanted to tell you that you’re beautiful, but I wanted to . . . we wanted to first give you this basket.”
Hunter handed her the basket, and in such proximity to the Evil Queen, the Medusa plant awakened and stretched its bloom out toward her.
“Oh, what a darling!” Ravenna exclaimed.
Its leaves wiggled and shimmied like snakes, and Ravenna stroked them. The thing made a sound like it was purring.
“I do love her!” Ravenna looked at the remaining contents of the basket. “Absinthe truffles and champagne? Good choices. Expensive choices.” She put the basket down and gave the plant an absent stroke. “My guess is you’ve come to ask for magic.”
Phillip felt sheepish. Embarrassed. But he’d come this far. “I’ve tried everyone and everything. Except you.”
“I really hope you don’t expect me to kiss you again, because definitely not. Sorry. I know everyone in town gets a kick out of kissing the frog, but not a chance.”
Phillip laughed, a strange sense of relief washing over him. “No, not at all. It’s true love’s kiss that’ll break my curse, and we both know that’s not a thing that happens. At least, not for people like me and you.”
“Indeed.” She popped a truffle in her mouth.
“But I never asked if maybe you have some kind of magic that can break the curse. A spell? A workaround? I don’t know. I’m sick of being a frog, though.”
“Aren’t the godmothers going to do some kind of frog-kissing booth at this spring carnival? Wouldn’t you rather wait for that? Do they know you’re here?”
“No,” Hunter answered. “In fact, they specifically told us not to ask you.”
“But we agreed if they haven’t been able to break this curse in all this time, I’m going to try every avenue, and they don’t get to tell me not to.”
“That’s reasonable.” Ravenna nodded. “But you know that dark magic has a price. It always has a price, and it’s never something that, when push comes to shove, you find you can make yourself pay. All the stories around these parts end with defeating the dark magic. With breaking contracts. Can I trust you?”
“You absolutely can,” Phillip promised. “You know what else happens in those stories? They meet their true loves. If I’d met my true love, this wouldn’t actually be a problem. Can you help me?”
She narrowed her eyes.
“I suppose I should say, will you help me?”
“The first one was correct. These fairies with their curses and their blessings are a giant pain in the ass.” She turned to the flying fox. “Esmerelda, fetch me my gazing ball.”
Esmerelda flew off and returned a short time later with a crystal ball and set it on the table in front of her mistress.
“Let’s see what our options are, shall we?”
Phillip was surprised it had been this easy. It made him wonder why he hadn’t done it long ago.
She leaned over the ball and cupped it with her pale hands. The dark sphere began to swirl with a mist of greens, blues, and purple. It was like a storm in the palm of her hand.
“Mmm,” she said. “I see.”
The swirling continued, and there was lightning and thunder in the little glass ball.
“Show him,” she said, and held out the ball to Phillip.
He took it, and suddenly, he could see a whole world inside the ball. He could see himself. He was dressed in a tux and walking down a red carpet toward . . . Grammy.
Grammy from the bakeshop stood in a tux with a bow tie, and her long white hair bound up in a bun. The godmothers were flittering here and there, and . . .
It was a wedding.
This was his answer? A wedding? This was as useless as that True Love’s Kiss nonsense.
He pinched his fingers over the bridge of his nose. “I know that love is the answer. This isn’t helpful.”
“Look again,” Hunter advised.
Phillip looked again and realized the bride wore lavender. When he tried to see any distinguishing marks, all he could see was her dress.
And Esmerelda flying next to them.
He almost dropped the ball.
“No, that’s not . . .”
Ravenna just watched him, obviously waiting for him to come to the correct conclusion.
“That can’t be right,” Phillip tried again.
“Listen, pal. I don’t make the rules. This is what the ball says. That’s your answer. Take it or leave it.”
“What? What does the ball say? I can’t see anything,” Hunter said.
“I . . . wow, so I really don’t want to offend you, but . . . ,” Phillip started. “I’m already a frog, please don’t smite me.”
�
�Whyever would you think I’d be offended? That implies I’d be game for this little stunt.”
“Oh, yeah. You’re right. I’m a total dick. Still. Maybe I deserve to stay a frog.”
“Will someone please tell me what the hell is going on?” Hunter growled.
At Hunter’s growl, Ravenna blushed and then coughed. “Well, there might be a wedding in our future. At least that’s what the ball says.”
Hunter looked the way Phillip felt: like he’d been bashed in the face with a shovel.
“I don’t know what to tell you, boys. We asked, it answered. I told you there was a price.”
“Always a price,” Esmerelda repeated.
“You two must be going. Great pâté, but I’ve got to motor if I want to get my beauty sleep. Off you go.”
“Ravenna, you can’t just drop that kind of a bomb and then . . .”
“Ah, but I can. Go on. There’s the door.”
They found themselves being shuffled out the door, and it slammed behind them.
“What the hell was that?” Hunter asked.
“Obviously not the answer we were looking for.” He clapped his friend on the shoulder. “Except you did get an invite to tea on Thursday.”
“If you’re going to marry her, it would be pretty pointless, wouldn’t it?”
“I’m not going to marry Ravenna. She doesn’t want to marry me. The crystal ball is cracked.”
“Phillip,” Hunter began.
“I don’t want to hear another word about it. Petty was right. We shouldn’t have come. At least, not about my curse. Just think about Thursday.”
But what if Ravenna was the only way he could be free?
Looking at his best friend, he knew that wasn’t an option he could take.
Hunter had been alone for a long time. He deserved to be happy. Even if that meant Phillip had to give up his only chance at breaking the curse.
He could eat a few more dragonfly wings. After all, Hunter would do it for him.
Chapter 6
Cinderella and Fella was the local dress and tux shop run by one Rosebud Briar, who seemed to be an absolute goddess with a needle and thread.
The shop itself was full of what Zuri liked to call wedding magic.
A lot of dress shops had a certain scent that she wouldn’t quite call musty, but they were unpleasant. Cinderella and Fella smelled like spring and flowers. Not like perfume, but actual blooms. Sometimes it was lilacs, sometimes it was jasmine. It was always relaxing.
Rosebud had the windows open, allowing a gentle breeze into the shop that brought with it the melodious sounds of songbirds.
Zuri was sitting at the planning table drinking a cappuccino and munching on a wedding cake cupcake for breakfast while perusing the various dress styles that Fairy Godmothers, Inc., wanted to show to each bride.
She had pictures of each bride, examples of their styles, and pictures of their wish lists, and it was easy to imagine the women in all these beautiful dresses.
Helping with the dress was one of Zuri’s favorite parts of the job. Some brides didn’t want the wedding planner’s help, but for those who did, Zuri just loved it. So much went into choosing a dress.
It wasn’t only about how the dress looked. It was about the memories that would be interwoven in the stitches. It was about the past, the present, and the future. It was about how the bride felt in the dress and about fulfilling a dream.
Zuri sighed with happiness and took a sip of her coffee.
“Someone is happy this morning,” Petty said as she compared two shades of pink ribbon against each other.
“Oh, yes! Do tell,” Jonquil prompted.
“I just remembered how much I love my job. This is my favorite part. The dress!”
Rosebud smiled at her. “It’s my favorite part, too.”
“No, no, love. Maybe baby blue?” Bluebonnet said to Petty, and handed her another ribbon. “My favorite part is the cake.”
“Cake is good, too.” Petty nodded and put the ribbon samples down next to one another. “But surely you have some feedback about the favor samples?”
“It was a great way to meet everyone in town, that was for sure.” Zuri took another bite of her cupcake.
“We’re dying to know, what happened when you tried the wish coin?” Jonquil asked.
She looked around the table and saw only excited faces. Even Rosebud. It was as if they all expected the coin to work somehow. Zuri supposed it couldn’t hurt to indulge them.
“I made my wish at the fountain on the way to the B and B,” she began.
And everyone leaned in closer around the table.
It was silly. So silly. As if wish coins could actually make wishes come true. But she found their excitement to be infectious, and she grinned.
“Well, I made my wish and right after I did, two things happened.”
“Two? Oh my!” Bluebonnet fanned herself as if Zuri had said something scandalous.
She found herself giggling, but then composed herself. “I got a text from my ex. He wants to talk. I don’t know if I should respond or not. My sister would tell me to light my phone on fire and get a new one, with a new number.”
Petty nodded. “I second this. Unless he was your wish?”
“I don’t know what my wish was.”
“What?” Jonquil asked. “How do you not know what you wished for?”
“Can I say? Or will it affect the potency of my wish?” Zuri asked.
“No, you can tell us.” Bluebonnet nodded.
“I asked for my heart’s desire.”
Petty huffed.
Jonquil sighed.
Bluebonnet shook her head slowly.
Rosebud, however, nodded. “I see how that would be complicated. Sometimes, we don’t always know our heart’s desire. Or we do, but we’re afraid to admit it.”
“I second your sister. I think you should light your phone on fire. We could give it a Viking funeral tonight, if you like,” Petty said.
“Hold on just a sec. I think maybe she should answer him,” Jonquil said.
“Whyever would she do that? After what he did? He is not Happily Ever After material. You do know that, don’t you, dear?” Bluebonnet asked.
“I . . . I suppose I do.” She pressed her lips together.
“But?” Rosebud prompted gently.
“But . . . when I was a kid, I had these fashion plates. You’d take the plates and put them under the paper and then use a crayon to transfer the figure from the plates. You could mix and match to make all kinds of different outfits. Alec was like that. The plates were my dreams and he fit with all of them.”
“I see,” Rosebud said.
Zuri got the feeling that maybe she really did.
“What else happened?” Jonquil asked. “Did you see the frog?”
“I definitely saw the frog. He was ridiculous. I didn’t know frogs could get that big outside of the Jurassic period,” Zuri said.
The table laughed.
“And I met Phillip Charming,” she said in a rush.
“Did you, now?” Jonquil asked. “How did that go?”
“Well, he’s definitely not my heart’s desire. And neither is Alec. The last thing I’d wish for is a man.”
“Too true,” Bluebonnet encouraged. “But do tell us about Phillip. Was he . . . princely?”
“Quite. He walked me to the B and B and got me set up in the most beautiful room I’ve ever seen in my life. I don’t know if I could even call it a room. It was more like a penthouse suite. I think he called them the Queen’s Chambers, or something.”
“Oh, really?” Petty grinned. “I see.”
“Then what happened?” Rosebud asked.
“We just talked. Had hot chocolate. No, correction. Mayan drinking chocolate. He was nice.”
“And funny?” Petty prompted. “I always thought he was funny.”
“Yes, he was funny. If I was looking to date someone, I would be interested.” When grins erupted all around the
table, she reiterated, “But I’m not.”
“No one says you have to date, dear. You could just . . .” Petty looked at her pointedly. “You know.”
Bluebonnet agreed with a hearty nod of her head.
“You’re worse than my sister. I don’t want that, either. My heart is tender and looking for something that doesn’t hurt. But just because it doesn’t hurt, that doesn’t make it a good idea.”
“Wise.” Rosebud nodded.
“Did you kiss the frog?” Jonquil demanded.
“I did not. No way.”
“You really should. We all have,” Rosebud said.
“What if he did turn into a prince?” Petty replied.
“What if he did? Wouldn’t we have to evict poor Phillip from the castle? Princes need castles. So, see, it’s just a bad idea,” Zuri protested.
Then she remembered she didn’t believe in fairy tales, or princes, and she definitely didn’t believe frogs could turn into princes.
“Just give it a shot. For us?” Petty asked. “Consider it the last favor to try. Because we are going to have a frog-kissing booth at the spring carnival.”
“If I’d known that kissing frogs would be part of this gig, I wouldn’t have applied.” Zuri laughed.
“Just this one. This one time,” Jonquil encouraged.
“If I say yes, can we talk about these weddings instead of my apocalypse of a love life?”
“Oh, we suppose,” Petty said.
“Fine. I’ll kiss the frog. Now, what do we think of these dresses for the Seymour wedding?” She held up the sketches next to the bride’s picture.
“Very fine,” Jonquil said with a nod. “We’ve had another booking, though, and we’re going to need you to focus exclusively on it. I have the file back at the office. It’s the Petrovsky-Markhoff wedding.”
“Yes, dear. It’s kind of a last-minute booking, and they’re going to need your wonder wedding powers the most.” Petty nodded.
Markhoff. Why did that name sound familiar? Zuri couldn’t quite place it. The buzz of familiarity was gone as quickly as it had come because her brain wouldn’t stop replaying the godmothers’ advice about Alec.
“So you really think I should answer Alec’s text?”
“Yes, dear. You should. You didn’t really get any closure, did you? Just a wedding dress on fire, your life in ashes, and he walked away free and clear. You didn’t get a chance to express your feelings. Or even, really, to feel them.” Jonquil reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “You were thinking of the bride. Of your business. But you didn’t think about you.”
Men Are Frogs Page 7
