"We can't do that. Honestly.” Fern crossed her heart. “We know you both think we're being difficult, and we can't explain why, but this case has to be heard by a judge."
"And I can't talk you into just listening to what Fiona wants?” Nick asked wearily.
Weary? Hell, he was exhausted by just a short meeting with the four women. How was he going to feel by the end of the case?
"I'm sorry, Nick. We're all sorry."
Myrtle actually looked as if she was sincere, but Nick suspected they were just making things difficult because ... well, hell if he knew why they were being difficult, but he was sure they had a reason. He had a feeling that despite their air-head facade Myrtle, Fern and Blossom generally had reasons for everything they did.
Myrtle said, “But our being sorry doesn't change things. We need to have a judge hear the case."
Nick sensed his utter defeat on the issue of settling out of court. “So what about a defense?"
"There are people who will stand up for us,” Myrtle assured him. “They'll testify on our behalf."
"Who?"
"You sister and brother, and their spouses, for example.” Fern promised.
"You've got to be kidding.” Oh, he could see the headlines now. Prominent Erie family seeing fairies—film at eleven.
"We told you that we had a hand in their getting together.” Myrtle had the same obstinate look in her eye that his mother frequently got when she was determined to have her own way. “Didn't you ask them?"
"What would I say? Pardon me, Max and Joy, but did three fairy godmothers set you and your spouses up?" Nick wasn't going to admit, especially in front of Glory, that he didn't have to ask his brother and sister since they'd both told him their fairy tales. He wasn't sure why they were playing into Myrtle, Fern and Blossom's delusions, but he didn't believe any of them.
"Listening to their stories is a start.” Fern patted his hand. “They're good friends, and they'll testify on our behalf."
"And having a psychiatrist say you're not delusional, but are real fairies should help,” Blossom said, suddenly chipper.
"But even if the court will allow that you are fairies—and I find that highly doubtful—what about Fiona? Does she have a case?"
"We did promise her a happily-ever-after,” Myrtle allowed. “And the truth of the matter is she hasn't gotten one yet. I imagine the wait could cause some emotional distress."
"Though if she was honest,” Blossom added, “Fiona would have to admit she's spent most her life distressed. It comes from not fitting in."
"And it's hard to fit into a world you were never meant to be in,” Fern said sagely.
"So, even though she might have experienced emotional distress before we came along, I imagine it's been worse since we introduced ourselves,” Myrtle finished.
Nick slammed his pen down on his pad of paper. “So you're admitting her claims have merit?"
"Oh, no, we're not admitting that,” Fern argued. “You see, we did promise her a happily-ever-after, but we never said we'd given up. As a matter of fact—"
"Fern!” Blossom and Myrtle yelled in unison.
The brunette clapped a hand over her mouth and sank back in her chair.
"Let's just say that we're not done with Fiona Fayette.” Myrtle's cryptic statement had all three women grinning and nodding their heads in unison.
"Not by a long shot,” Fern added.
"Listen, the three of you are to stay away from her.” Nick picked up his pen and again slammed it onto the pad of paper for emphasis. “No trying to set her up. No midnight visits in her dreams. No—"
"You believe us?” Blossom sounded excited.
"Pardon?” Nick asked.
"You just admitted you'd seen us in your dreams,” Myrtle caught the verbal slip, and with the instincts of an attorney, hammered out a rapid question. “How else would you explain our being in your dreams if we aren't fairies?"
"I'm nuts. That's how I'd explain it. But, since I'm not the one on trial, I don't have to explain anything."
Blossom reached out and patted his hand. “But—"
"Listen, if we're taking this to trial, I have to figure out some defense before the ball's rolling."
"I think you'll find it will roll pretty fast.” Myrtle looked like a cat who had secretly eaten the canary.
"Ha.” Nick realized that was a less-than-adult response and hastily added, “That shows what you know about the court system. This could take years."
"But it won't.” Fern sounded sure of herself.
"We can't afford to wait that long.” Blossom nervously nibbled a fingernail. “This has waited long enough."
Glory had watched with delight as Nick battled the fairies. Served him right. How dare he kiss her?
She wanted revenge, and letting the three women go to town on him—letting them twist everything he said until he didn't know if he was coming or going—seemed a good way to accomplish it. Since kissing him, she'd felt twisted around and unsure of whether she was coming or going.
Going. That's exactly what she should be doing. Going to the nearest exit and getting away from the infuriating man and the three wanna-be-fairy-godmothers.
Instead, she was sitting in an attorney's office, watching the entertaining battle, letting virtual strangers run her restaurant ... and fantasizing about kissing Nick again. She wasn't sure quite how it had happened, but as she watched him try to get a straight answer out of the fairies she couldn't help noticing how very kissable his lips were.
Strong. Those lips, pursed with annoyance, inspired trust. But Glory sadly admitted to herself that she wasn't ready to trust anyone—especially not another attorney. Besides, Nick was too opinionated. Too sure of himself. Too ... damn sexy for his own good.
Too damn sexy for her own good.
And yet, though he was opinionated and too sexy for his own good, Nick Aaronson wasn't what she had expected. He cared about Myrtle, Fern and Blossom. He might think they were crazy as proverbial bed-bugs, but he was putting his career on the line to defend them anyway. She couldn't imagine Garth ever taking that type of risk for anyone. She couldn't imagine the attorneys who had handled her divorce defending fairies, either.
But Nick Aaronson was doing just that.
He had a kind heart, which in Glory's opinion was even sexier than his very kissable lips, which was saying something because those lips were very sexy and tempting. She could almost feel them—
"Glory?"
She realized she was being spoken to and pulled her gaze away from Nick's lips. “Pardon?"
"Are you going to sit there staring at me, or you going to help?” Nick demanded.
"Help with what?"
"Controlling your employees."
"When they're in the restaurant, they're my worry. When they're here, they're all yours. I just showed up for moral support.” And how on earth did Nick expect her to control three fairies when she couldn't control her own thoughts? The last thing she should be thinking about was kissing Nick, but there it was—she was not only thinking about kissing him, she was fantasizing about it.
"Well, let me just say you're not being very supportive."
"Their moral support, not yours. I'm sure you're used to handling things on your own, so I doubt you need my help.” But she'd love to help—help herself to another taste of Nick Aaronson's lips.
"But you claimed you needed my help when you asked me to take this case."
"No. I said they needed your help. I don't need anyone."
"Glory Chambers doesn't need anyone?” he repeated doubtfully.
"Once upon a time I might have thought I did, but not anymore.” She didn't need anyone, not even a gorgeous man with a big heart. And she especially didn't need Nick's kisses.
Myrtle cleared her throat. “Are we done for now? We should get back to the restaurant—"
"I hate it when you two fight,” Blossom interrupted, frowning at Nick and Glory.
"We weren't fighting,” Glory ass
ured her.
"Sure you were. Both of you seem to think standing alone makes you stronger, but actually letting someone else stand with you can only make you stronger."
"No trying to fix us up,” Nick reminded Blossom. “I'm not interested, and neither is Glory. Right, Glory?"
"Right. I'm not interested at all.” Glory should have felt relieved to hear Nick echo her feelings so succinctly. She wasn't interested. He might be different from other attorneys, and he might have lusciously kissable lips, but she wasn't interested in a repeat performance. At least not very interested.
She had to get away from Nick and whatever spell he was casting over her. She stood. “And Myrtle's right. We should get back to the restaurant, so if you're done..."
"I'm done for today. But we still have questions that need answered. I feel like all I got today was a runaround."
"Why, Nick, we answered everything you asked,” Myrtle said indignantly.
"Maybe you should find better questions next time,” Blossom offered.
"Maybe I should find better clients next time,” Nick muttered as the four women marched out of his office.
He didn't have anything going on at the courthouse, so he spent the day working in his office. But he couldn't take his eye off the folder he'd come to think of as the fairy file. Being sued for not producing a happily-ever-after. He was pretty sure that no matter how he searched he wouldn't find any precedence in this case. The only way to win was not to fight, despite what the fairies said. He decided to call Bill.
"Looks like we'll be facing off again,” he said without preamble. “I'm having trouble talking them into settling."
"How on earth did they rope you into representing them?” That Bill found the situation humorous was evident in his tone.
"I was going to ask you the same thing about this Fayette woman. I mean, come on Bill, she's suing for a happily-ever-after?"
"I've known the girl since she was a babe. Her father was my partner. Such a pretty little thing. Her parents had tried forever to have a child, but they couldn't. The day they brought that baby home was the happiest day of their lives. And they loved her, and she loved them..."
Nick could hear Bill's hesitation as the sentence trailed off.
"But?” he prompted.
"But she always marched to the beat of a different drum. She couldn't fit into their family, or anywhere else for that matter. I think that's why your clients hurt her so badly. She wanted to believe in them, wanted to believe that finally she was going to find someone she fit with.” He paused, then added, “I'm no psychiatrist, but that's the way I see it."
"Bill, these three women are different, but they're not malicious. I don't think they meant to hurt her."
"Maybe not, but she has a right to be compensated. They made promises that they had no way of delivering."
"Well, they're adamant about not settling. They want a trial."
"You're their attorney. You can't convince them that it's in their best interest to see this put to rest as quietly as possible?"
"You know it's best for your client as well,” Nick felt obliged to point out.
"Maybe,” Bill muttered.
"Definitely. Believing in fairy godmothers can't be very sane.” Which is why Nick had no intentions of believing the three ladies’ claims. But he was their attorney, and if they told him they were fairy godmothers, then he'd play along and support their right to be fairies, all the way to the Supreme Court. He even referred to them as the fairies. But representing and referring didn't have anything to do with believing.
He didn't—he wouldn't—believe.
"Looks like I'll be seeing you in court then, counselor."
Nick massaged his pounding temple. This case could get ugly. “Sorry about that, Bill."
"Me to."
* * * *
"What do you mean, we've got a date?” Getting a court date should have taken months.
The Court Administrator's assistant, Clancy Thomas, shrugged. “Just what I said. Two weeks from tomorrow. The Honorable Judge Bernard Fallon will be presiding."
"Who?"
"Annette Anderson is pregnant—"
"Since when?” Nick had dealt with Judge Anderson often in the past and thought he was pretty much abreast of courthouse gossip, but he'd heard nothing about her pregnancy.
"Since about three months ago. The doctor said it's triplets, and she's on complete bed rest. So, the AOPC—Administrative Office of Pennsylvania Courts—assigned us Judge Fallon for the duration. He's from some little town down near Philly."
"But that doesn't explain how fast—"
"Two weeks, Nick."
Two weeks to find some defense for fairies who hadn't provided a happily-ever-after? “But I haven't had time—"
"You'll have to find time because you've got two weeks.” Clancy offered him a sympathetic smile.
Sympathy wasn't what Nick needed. More time, that's what he needed. That, or non-fairy clients. Either would do.
"What do you know about the judge?” he asked, resigned to his fate.
"Only what the AOPC sent. He's retired and no one knows much about him, but he's qualified on paper."
"Come on, you've got to know something more than that.” Sometimes it felt more like he worked on a soap opera than in the court system. Everyone knew everything about everyone, and most didn't hesitate to share the information.
"He's a ghost, Nick. No one knows anything about him, other than the AOPC is sending him to us, and he's hearing your case."
"Thanks anyway, Clancy."
As Nick left the courthouse, his couldn't keep from glancing across the street to Glory's Chambers. How on earth had he gotten himself into this mess?
Chapter Six
"Baked beans do not make a nutritionally balanced meal, Mr. Foster."
"Now, Glory. Nag, nag, nag. That's all you seem to do. Why can't you be sweet and compliant like your aunt was?” The elderly gentleman nervously wiped a hand over his furrowed brow.
Glory had grown fond of the old man. He'd been a regular since the first day Glory's Chambers had opened. He'd told her stories of the aunt she'd never known who had run The Coffee House for years. Glory was sorry she hadn't known her aunt, and she appreciated Mr. Foster's patronage and friendship. But not enough to bring him baked beans for lunch. They had this argument nearly every day, and every time she won.
Mr. Foster enjoyed the confrontations, and since the customer was always right, she was happy to play along.
"Ah, now, Mr. Foster, people have been asking why I wasn't sweet since I was a girl. Fact is, I don't know what the answer is, but I do know you won't be eating just baked beans today. They're not even on the menu."
"Your aunt used to buy cans of them for me."
"Well, since I'm not my aunt, we're going to have to make a deal. I'll bring you a nice big salad and a glass of milk. And, if you behave and eat your lunch, I'll see if Fern will slice you an extra thick piece of chocolate cake. It's your favorite, right?” Glory could see the battle was over.
"I guess a salad might taste good,” the old man allowed.
"You just hang tight, and I'll see to it that it does.” Glory turned around and walked into the kitchen. She took one of Fern's salads and started piling extra raw vegetables on top of it. She was going to pack as much nutrition as possible into the salad.
The bowl was just too small, she decided as things began overflowing. She dug through the cabinet until she found a bigger one.
"Just what do you think you're doing?” Fern asked.
"I'm making a salad for Mr. Foster.” The man looked as if he needed all the nutrition she could pack into each meal.
"Who?” Fern asked innocently, much too innocently.
"You know, older gentleman, grey hair—"
"Actually, it's black with streaks of grey.” Fern clapped her hand over her mouth, a faint pinkness tinging her cheeks..
Glory studied the fairy suspiciously. “Fern, didn't you talk
to him day before yesterday when he complimented your Key Lime Pie?"
"Oh, that Mr. Foster."
"Yeah, that Mr. Foster.” Glory eyed Fern a moment, and then asked, “Fern, do you have a little crush on Mr. Foster?"
"Of course not.” She started whipping whatever was in the ceramic bowl with a great deal of gusto.
"Really?"
"Fairy godmothers don't get crushes. They help find other people crushes.” Fern stopped whipping and sighed.
"Maybe it would make them better fairies if they did experience a crush now and then."
"Maybe,” Fern allowed. “But we've already pushed the fairy council as far as we dare. They're not going to let us change any more rules, and not getting crushes on mortals is a pretty big rule."
"But you wish things were different?” Glory pressed.
"I—"
Nick slammed into the kitchen. “We have a date."
"Here, take this out to Mr. Foster while I talk to Nick.” Glory handed Fern the bowl of salad. “Oh, and take him a big glass of milk."
"Okay.” Fern's smile told Glory that although the fairy council might not believe in fairies having crushes on humans, Fern's heart hadn't been listening when the order came down.
"Glory?"
Glory stopped thinking about fairy crushes and looked at the man in front of her. Too bad things were the way they were. Nick Aaronson was ... well, heck, he was gorgeous in a prim and proper, attorney-ish way. Glory would love to try to rumple his perfection. She'd love to run her fingers through his perfectly styled hair and muss it up. She'd like to take that tie and toss it, unbuttoning each of the buttons slowly, revealing the man underneath the suit. Then she'd—
"Glory?"
"Sorry. We've got a court date?"
He nodded toward the small office she'd set up behind the kitchen. “Let's talk in there."
She followed him into her office and jumped when she shut the door. She had been trying to avoid being alone with Nick and had managed it quite nicely. Yet here they were, alone behind a closed door. And there he stood totally unrumpled, just waiting for her to try to—
Miracles for Nick Page 8
