James nodded. “Yeah. It’s over a thousand years old.”
“That’s non-traditional for weddings in this part of the world.” Mary sighed. “An antique is an impressive choice, but you might consider something more traditional.”
“Oh, that’s just the engagement ring. I forgot to mention that it’s magic. She needed a new shield ring, and this one won’t crap out on her like the others.” James shrugged. “That’s something you don’t want to have to deal with in the middle of a fight. I mean, if you know you’re not gonna have decent armor or shields, you can adjust your tactics, but if you think you have and it turns bad, that’s gonna get you hurt. Maybe killed.”
Mary blinked. “Oh, I see. That’s certainly a…concern, depending on one’s lifestyle. Um, and is your prospective fiancée a woman who will find a non-traditional ring acceptable? I mean, men often think that non-traditional rings and plans will excite women, but they underestimate how important connecting with decades and centuries of tradition can be. Many women want a wedding like their mother’s and grandmother’s, just more extravagant.”
James shrugged. The ring was the one thing he didn’t doubt.
“Yeah, totally fine. She’s kind of non-traditional about everything, which is why I’m having a problem. You know, all the podcasts I’ve listened to have these cutesy ideas, and none of them make any sense for her. She’s not the kind of woman who likes frilly cutesy crap, and she hates her mom. They don’t even talk anymore.”
Mary turned to tap notes into her computer. “Unfortunate, but I will say that the fewer in-laws involved, the greater control the bride tends to have over her own wedding. That can definitely be a major advantage.”
James frowned. “Traditional, huh? She does like expensive restaurants that don’t have barbeque. That’s pretty traditional.”
Mary nodded. “I suppose you could say that.” She cleared her throat. “I wouldn’t recommend barbeque for your wedding meal. I was just concerned about your ring. You said that was the engagement ring. What about the wedding ring? Is it more traditional?”
James shook his head. “I still haven’t gotten the wedding ring. The jade ring’s just the engagement ring, but it has a matching pendant. You think that would work? Or do I have to have another ring?” He frowned. “I’m figuring I do according to what the podcasts told me. And Alison, Maria, Kathy, and Charlyce told me that too. Nana Garfield threatened to slap me upside my head when I said I was thinking about not getting a wedding ring.”
Mary stared at James, disbelief on her face. “I agree with all those women. Mr. Brownstone. I assure you that even if the lucky woman is extremely non-traditional, you still should err on the side of caution in making sure you have both a wedding ring and an engagement ring.” She offered James a tight smile. “But again, I’m confused. This is her engagement ring, which means you haven’t even proposed, and what you’ve said seems to indicate that as well. Is that a correct summation of your current situation vis-à-vis your prospective bride?”
James grunted. “Kind of? Like I said, I tried to propose to her once, but it wasn’t planned, and she stopped me. She didn’t say no, she just said she wanted it to be…more special. So now I’m trying to figure out how to propose and make it special. I’ve tried talking to all the women I know, and everyone keeps feeding me lines about ‘showing that I care and know what Shay would want.’”
“And this Shay is your intended fiancée, I take it?”
“Yeah, but it’s been months now. I’ve listened to so many podcasts and watched a bunch of videos on the internet with different proposals.” James groaned. “I even watched every episode of The World’s Best Proposals, and I still don’t have any idea what might work. This whole thing is getting fucking epically complicated.”
Mary gasped, and her face reddened.
“Uh, sorry.” James grunted and shrugged. “When I tried to propose to her, she told me the proposal needed to be fucking epic. That was what I meant by special before, but I’m not good at this kind of thing. It’s been hard for me to figure out, even with help, so that’s why I’ve come to you. You’re an expert, so I figured you could help me.”
“I see. This Shay certainly seems like a…very colorful woman. I can see how you two will get on well together.”
James chuckled. “You could say that. She’s the perfect woman for me.”
Mary stared at James for a few seconds. “That much I can tell without having even met her.” She sighed and shook her head. “Now, at this agency, we pride ourselves on creating the best and most involved—epic, if you will—wedding experiences for all our clients. You’ll find our satisfaction ratings and reviews are some of the best in LA for wedding planners, and while I’m sure we could satisfy your lovely Shay’s wedding requirements, no matter how non-traditional or epic, there’s a fundamental problem that needs to be addressed first.”
“What? Don’t worry about the wedding ring thing. I’m gonna make that easy on myself. Once I propose, I’ll make her pick one out.” James shrugged. “I did the thoughtful thing with the engagement ring, and Shay might be pushing me on this proposal, but she’s not gonna torture me when it comes to the wedding.” He winced. “I hope. I think she’ll get how much I’ve tried. Taking down the Drow queen was easier than figuring out this proposal has been so far.”
Mary waved her hands in front of her, an exasperated expression taking over her face. “No, no. I mean yes, that’s, well, that is an issue, but it’s not the issue I’m talking about.” She pinched the bridge of her nose and took a few deep breaths. “Mr. Brownstone, I’m a wedding planner, not a proposal planner. Given the nature of the proposal experience, my particular skill set isn’t suited to helping a couple in that kind of situation, and you’ll find that’s the case with most people in my profession. Typically, by the time you’re coming to someone like me, you’ve already proposed, and both members of the couple are talking with me. I simply am not the person you need to help you with your particular problem.”
James frowned. “You can’t help me with the proposal?”
“Not in the way you probably want, and not much more than your various other female friends probably have.” Mary managed a tight smile. “I will note that the advice you have received is good. You need to tailor your proposal to Shay’s personality and desires. Don’t worry. After she says yes, all your stress will go away. I will make all your stress go away.” Another too-hungry smile appeared on her face. “At that point, I’ll take care of everything else. I’ll help guide the entire wedding-planning process so it’s an enjoyable experience and not a cause for concern. You won’t have to watch shows or listen to podcasts. This agency is a one-stop shop for wedding planning.”
James grabbed the ring from the desk and slipped it back into his pocket. “Damn. Wasted your time and mine.” He stood and headed toward the door. “Sorry about that.”
“Mr. Brownstone,” Mary called.
James looked over his shoulder. “Yeah?”
Her too-sweet smile almost made him shudder.
“I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” Mary replied, “and once you do, I would encourage you to make another appointment for my services. As you’re already experiencing, these things can be taxing. It’s best to leave it to an expert. As good as you are at bounty hunting, that’s how good I am at wedding planning. Please note that our agency has agreements with several Oriceran contractors. We can literally make your wedding magical.”
James opened the door and stepped through. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He shut it behind him. “Just need to find a fucking proposal expert first.”
Fifteen minutes on the road in his rumbling F-350 helped shake some of the tension out of James’ shoulders. Even if he’d failed to get useful professional advice about his proposal, it wasn’t as if Shay was riding him about it, or at least not yet.
But how long is she gonna wait? Six months? A year? Two years? How long will it take before I get this shit figured out? Fu
ck, it would have been easier if she just told me what she wanted me to do. I don’t know anything about romance. She knows that.
James let out a low growl. Kicking down a door and punching a man through a window was simple and straightforward, and sometimes even fun, depending on the day. Figuring out what a woman wanted was torturous and complicated almost all the time.
“Okay,” he mumbled to himself. “I’ve talked to almost every woman I know well, and everyone’s given me the same advice, but I still need a specialist who knows about this stuff and won’t get tripped up over Shay wanting non-traditional shit, whatever the fuck that means.”
James switched lanes after a quick mirror check, frowning for a second at a driver who looked suspiciously like King Pyro.
Have I pounded so many people into the pavement that I can’t help but see the bastards everywhere I go now?
After taking a turn a little hard and leaving the Pyro doppelganger behind, James smiled at a sudden flash of inspiration. If conventional, traditional help was failing him, maybe it was time to bring in non-conventional and non-traditional help—someone who was all about romantic ideas and inspiring men.
James turned into a liquor store parking lot and looked through the window to make sure no assholes were robbing the place before pulling out his phone. He searched through the contacts until he found the number for Anna Forsythe and dialed.
“We’re sorry,” came a soft female voice. “The number you have dialed is out of service. Please hang up, check the number, and dial again.”
James grunted and hit the End button, then called Tyler immediately. This was a good idea, and he wasn’t going to let a bad phone number kill it.
“What’s up, Brownstone?” Tyler answered. “I’m kind of in the middle of something, so if this doesn’t involve making money, can it wait?”
Fucker never changes, does he?
“It involves me not being pissed off,” James rumbled, “and that means less chance of you needing to fix something. Doors cost money to replace.”
Tyler snorted. “Fine. What is it?”
“Anna Forsythe. I need to get a hold of her, but her number doesn’t work anymore.” James looked up as a news helicopter flew overhead. Always something happening in LA.
“Yeah, she’s got personal reasons for that, from what I hear.” Tyler sighed. “I’ll give you her number if you guarantee me this isn’t about you going after her. I don’t care what bullshit some angry ex-wife fed you, she doesn’t deserve that. She’s a nice woman who makes it clear what she offers in exchange for shit given freely.”
James grunted. “Nothing like that. I just need her help with something. Not that Bard of Filth crap.”
Tyler snickered. “Let me guess, is this about your proposal? It’s sad, Brownstone. By the time this whole thing is over, you’ll have asked half the people in LA for advice. Maybe you should go on the internet and crowdsource the advice. Huh. You know, if you were willing to do that, I’ve got a few ideas about how we could monetize that. We can give it a cool name. Sell advertising during the whole thing.”
“Fuck off, Tyler. Not auctioning my proposal or whatever.” James grunted. “And, yeah, Anna knows her shit about romance, given what she is, I figure, so maybe she can help. Do you know how to get hold of her or not?”
“Yeah, yeah, I know her number. Consider this an early wedding present, and don’t say I’ve never done anything for you.” Tyler rattled off the number.
James’ memory made it unnecessary to write it down or enter it into his phone. His contact list was for dialing ease, not necessity.
“Thanks,” James replied.
“Sure thing, Brownstone,” Tyler replied. “Just remember when the big day comes who helped you, especially if that sexy little woman’s advice works.”
“I’ll keep that shit in mind next time I get an urge to kick in your door.” James ended the call.
He sat in the parking lot for a minute staring down at his phone.
Do I really want to ask her? I owe her for her help last time, and who knows how she might want to collect? She seemed okay, but just being around her messed with my head. And even if I bonded with Whispy, he doesn’t seem to help as much against stuff that messes with my head.
James sighed. He was running out of options, as well as useful romance advice podcasts that didn’t annoy the ever-living shit out of him with weak-ass advice that didn’t apply to him and Shay. He dialed Anna.
One ring. Two rings. Three rings. Four rings. It wouldn’t be long before it went to voicemail.
Maybe this is for the best.
“An unexpected but perhaps fortuitous call, Mr. Brownstone,” Anna answered in a sultry voice.
James frowned. “What do you mean by that?”
“Let’s just say it’s been far too long, and I found you interesting during our last encounter. Perhaps you could come and visit, hmm? It’d be nice to see you again, if only to appreciate the glory of your form and your amusing demeanor.”
Maybe this shit was a mistake.
James frowned. “This isn’t some succubus seduction shit, is it?”
“I’m not a succubus. I’m a leanan sidhe. I can assure you I don’t serve your precious Satan, Mr. Brownstone. From what I can tell from Paradise Lost, he’s quite the bore.” Anna let out a soft laugh. “If you recall, I explained before that you’re not really my type. Besides, you’re the one who called me, so obviously you have an interest in speaking to me.”
James took a deep breath through his nose and slowly let it out through his mouth. “You’re right. Sorry. I needed your advice on something. Romance shit.”
“I see. All the more reason to visit in person, since I incidentally wanted to collect on the little favor you already owe me, and it sounds as if you’re going to acquire more debt. After all, my advice does have value.”
“How did you want to collect on my debt, exactly?” James furrowed his brow, his stomach tightening.
The Celtic faerie had claimed he wasn’t her type, and that made sense given her interest in artistic men, but he also didn’t want to have to explain to Shay why some leanan sidhe might call him up in the middle of the night and flirt with him.
“Whatever it is you’re thinking, Mr. Brownstone, I assure you that you’re wrong,” Anna replied, her voice thick with amusement as if she could read his thoughts. “Trust me, the task I have in mind is particularly well suited for your normal everyday talents, which I admit are almost at the level of art.”
“What the fuck does that mean?”
Anna sighed. “I prefer to discuss this matter in person, but I can assure you, you’ll find it an easy way to discharge your past and soon-to-be-incurred debt, and it won’t bother you in the slightest nor trouble your conscience, judging by your current lifestyle.”
A normal woman was difficult enough to understand, but this woman was enjoying messing with him far too much.
James frowned at his phone.
Damn it. She’s right. I called her, and I’ve dealt with her before, so I know what to expect. If she wants sex, there are thousands of other guys she could call.
“Okay,” James replied with a growling rumble. “I’ll stop by your place tomorrow. We’ll chat there.”
“I’ve got a better idea,” Anna replied. “Take me out to lunch. There’s an Italian place I’ve been meaning to try. I’ll text you the time and place later. I’ll meet you there, so you don’t have to feel like you’re walking into the spider’s web.”
James grunted. “Fine.”
“Until then.” Anna ended the call with a final chuckle.
What the fuck did I just get myself into?
2
Shay settled into a chair and smiled at her department head, who was sitting behind his desk. The man gave her a nervous smile back, his hands folded and his face a little too red. She doubted that he’d pounded shots at lunch.
She laughed. “Damn, Alan, relax. You look like you just heard they’re going t
o close the whole department and make you go teach at traffic school.”
Alan took a deep breath and adjusted his bowtie. “I heard a rumor, a very disturbing rumor, and it’s been worrying me. Vexing me, if you will.”
“Vexing?” Seriously?
“Rumor?” Shay frowned. “About what, exactly?”
Shit. There’s no way this guy can connect me with tomb raiding. He doesn’t even do field work anymore, let alone stay in touch with the dark side of archaeology and artifact collection. It’s not like the people who know I’m Aletheia would call up a stuffed shirt like Alan to chat about it.
Shay’s frown deepened. Unless Erin North had delivered a counter-attack to disrupt Shay’s life before faking her own death?
Alan lifted his chin as if trying to summon his courage. “The rumor is that you are planning on leaving for the University of Wyoming. That they offered you a full professorship and a fast track to tenure.”
“Huh?” Shay chuckled and shook her head. “I don’t think I’d do well in Wyoming. Gets too cold in the winter, and I’m really more of a big city kind of woman.”
Alan let out a long sigh of relief. “That’s what I was thinking as well, but there’s been a lot of chatter about it, so I just wanted to be sure. When you said you wanted to have a meeting with me, I assumed it was to talk about you leaving.”
Shay smirked. “There’s been a lot of chatter about me moving to Wyoming?”
He replied with a curt nod as if everyone in the department sat around having discussions about Shay and her interest in random states all day long.
Who knows, maybe they do. It’s tough being as badass and impressive in all parts of life as I am.
Shay cleared her throat. “Okay, here’s a situation where a kernel of truth has been twisted beyond recognition, but there’s still a kernel of truth.”
Alan’s eyes widened. “Kernel of truth?” he squeaked.
Shay resisted a laugh. The man spent most of the last year acting smug toward her, and now he looked like he was going to wet his pants because he thought she might be moving to Wyoming.
The Unbelievable Mr Brownstone Omnibus 3 Page 41
