The Bridesmaid Earns Her Wings

by Heather Horrocks

  “My potential employers will have to find me relaxing at the hotel pool.” Stacy held out her hand. “But kiss my hand for luck. You have plenty to share. You can get a secretarial job with absolutely no secretarial skills whatsoever. Yesterday you became an attorney — or at least beguiled one. Today, I want to be a doctor.”

  Laughing, Dixie took Stacy’s proffered hand and kissed the top of it. “There. You can be anything you want to be today.”

  “Queen of the world.” Stacy laughed. “And I’m traveling with the princess.”

  Dixie rolled her eyes. “At least then they’d all be bowing to you. It’s awesome, but also a little weird.”

  “Okay, off with you before you wilt in the heat.”

  It was only seven-thirty, but it was already eighty degrees outside. Dixie stepped out onto the balcony and looked down. The heat reflected up onto her.

  She took a deep breath and exhaled. She was in a magical place, staying in a luxury hotel for free, and she’d see Michael again soon. Life was good. She came back in and slid the glass door closed. “All right. I’ll see you later. I’m off to the law firm.”

  “And I’ll head to Town Square for lunch and inquire if the diner lady was serious, especially if you’re serious about this crazy scheme of staying in town longer than a week.”

  “I am, for now. You could get free food, too.”

  “Only if I’m with you, so far.”

  Dixie hugged her. “Enjoy the pool. Put on sunscreen.”

  “And you beware of advances from your boss. Don’t think I didn’t see him move in on you last night. If he has his way, you just may get a kiss. ”

  Dixie smiled. “I certainly hope so.”

  “But he’s your boss.”

  “I know. The dreamiest boss ever. And if I get him alone in a conference room, watch out!”

  Stacy laughed. “You’re all talk.”

  “Well, I’d get a kiss, at least. See you later.”

  Dixie started walking. She’d chosen lower heels today, only two inches, so she was fully prepared for short comments from Michael.

  When she reached the law firm, she walked up the steps and opened the ornate antique wooden doors inlaid with gorgeous oval stained glass. There was one oval on each door, crafted in a garden pattern of greens and colorful flowers, both moon and sun overhead. Looking more closely, she saw details today that she’d missed the day before — tiny pixies or fairies hidden in the pattern, a wolf howling at the full moon, and a small dragon flying overhead.

  She found that to be even more charming. The owners of this law firm obviously had a whimsical side, and she really liked that. She’d always liked garden scenes and she’d always loved flowers and plants. That’s why she’d gone into botany, after all.

  She stepped inside the cool lobby where the office manager, Peggy, greeted her warmly. “Welcome, Dixie.”

  Was it her imagination, or had Peggy put extra emphasis on her name? Probably just trying to get it right, she supposed. “Thank you, Ms. Quinn.”

  “Oh, honey, our office is strictly on a first-name basis. Call me Peggy.”

  “All right. Thanks, Peggy.”

  “Now come back this way and I’ll introduce you to the other two secretaries, show you your new desk, and give you a tour of the place.”

  As they walked along the length of the twenty-foot mirror, Dixie smiled. She didn’t know how this thing worked, but the wings and crown were back — and even followed her as she walked. The special effects were truly amazing.

  Peggy smiled at her and Dixie saw that the other woman’s reflection had fangs.

  “I love this mirror.”

  “Yes. It helps us know who our clients really are.”

  “So it looks like I’m a fairy or something.”

  “A pixie,” Peggy said indulgently.

  “And you’re...?”

  “A vampire.”

  Dixie couldn’t keep the smile off her face. “Awesome.”

  Peggy smiled. “Come this way.”

  Peggy led her around a corner into a spacious area, with doors circling them and a hallway off to the left. There were three beautiful wooden desks arranged there that looked like they’d been made out of the same magicwood as Michael’s. She’d Googled magicwood last night and had only found a reference to Magic Wood, a place in Switzerland.

  Two of the desks were occupied by women and the third was empty.

  Peggy opened a door under the empty desk and said, “Your purse can go in there. There’s a key in the top drawer if you’d like to lock it. I recommend you do. We’re all trustworthy, but it’s best not to tempt people.”

  Dixie set her purse inside and closed the door. She pulled the key out, locked it, and slipped the key onto her key ring.

  “Ladies, this is our new secretary, Dixie Abbott. I hope you’ll make her feel very welcome.” Her voice had a surprising note of command as she spoke with them.

  “Yes, ma’am,” they responded.

  “Though you all three work for anyone who asks you, you all have specific assignments.” She pointed to a blonde. “This is Helga Bergman. She handles mostly Isaac’s work. And Jillian Cooper works for Ben. You’ll mostly be handling Michael’s files. And everyone drops everything when the senior Mr. Murphy comes in, though that is less and less often of late.”

  The blonde stood and offered her hand. “Hi, Dixie. Glad to have you in our office. My friends will never believe this.”

  The brunette also stood, but more reluctantly. “Hi, Princess.” She didn’t offer her hand and the word princess was tinged with something ugly.

  Peggy cleared her throat. “There will be none of that. I know your friend applied for the job and didn’t get it, but I want you to get over that, Jillian.”

  The woman shot a sullen glance at Peggy, and then at Dixie. “All right. Hello, Dixie.”

  “I can hardly wait to ask you about your family,” Helga said. “Especially the King.” She said the king reverentially.

  “Elvis? I know. We were this close to meeting him a few days ago.”

  “You’re funnier than I thought you’d be,” Helga said. “I’m going to like having you here.”

  Peggy said, “All right ladies, back to work while I show Dixie around the office.”

  As the two secretaries turned back to their work, Peggy walked her down the hallway, showing her the spacious offices of the four Murphy men before taking her down the hall. “And this is perhaps our favorite place of all — the break room.”

  This room was also large, with a table ringed by ten comfortable chairs. A fridge sat next to a counter, which held a microwave. And, to Dixie’s dismay, on a stand next to the counter sat a Boston fern that was beginning to wilt.

  “Oh, dear,” Dixie said. “Excuse me a moment, please, Peggy.” She stuck her finger into the dirt of the pot and found the top two inches bone dry, verifying the poor thing needed water, though she’d already sensed that it did. She carried it to the sink, turned on the water and adjusted the temperature to lukewarm, watering the pot deeply, and leaving it in the sink to drain. “It should be much better by morning.”

  Peggy tipped her head. “I have no doubt of that.”

  As they walked back toward her desk, Dixie heard a man’s voice. A moment later, Michael came around the corner. When he saw her, he stopped. “Why, good morning, Ms. Abbott. I hope Peggy is telling you good things about us all.”

  “Oh, yes,” Dixie said.

  “Oh, no,” Peggy said. “Watch out for this one. He tends to flirt.”

  Dixie smiled at Michael., who smiled back and admitted, “Actually, I intend to flirt.”

  Peggy shook her head. “None of that. Follow me, Dixie.”

  “Has my father come in yet?” Michael asked.

  “Not yet.”

  They heard more voices and Michael said, “Maybe that’s him.”

  But it was Ben and another man who looked a lot like Michael who came around the corner.

  The
other man took Dixie’s hand. “Good morning. I understand you already met our dreary middle brother, Ben. I’m the youngest and the handsomest. My name’s Isaac. The Murphy is silent in this office.”

  She smiled. “Hello, Isaac Silent-Murphy.”

  “What’s going on?” Another man came around the corner, one who looked a lot like Michael and his brothers, only about thirty years older. When he caught sight of Dixie, he did a double take, stopping and staring at her. When he spoke, it was in a solicitous voice. “Are you being helped?”

  “Oh, yes.” She smiled at him. “I work here. I just started this morning.”

  “You do?” Shaking his head, he seemed surprised. “Well, then, umm, OK. I’ll make sure that everybody treats you well.”

  “They certainly are,” Dixie assured him, but she was still glad that both Peggy and now Mr. Murphy would tell Jillian to play nice.

  Mr. Murphy walked toward the back offices, motioning his sons to follow. As he turned the corner, he muttered, “Whose bright idea was this?”

  Did he mean hiring her? Did he not like her? But people always liked Dixie. She’d win this guy over eventually, too. If she stayed in town that long.

  But if enough people in the office complained, would she keep her job?

  She took a seat as Jillian shot her another angry glare.

  What had she done that had upset so many people this morning?

  And then she remembered Jillian’s friend who hadn’t been hired. That explained her animosity, at least. Mr. Murphy might have just been surprised that anyone had been hired without his knowledge.

  She hoped.

  “Want me to pick you something up for lunch?” Isaac asked from the doorway of Michael’s office.

  Michael shook his head, staring at his laptop. “I’m not hungry yet.”

  “It’s nearly noon.”

  Surprised, he looked at the clock. He’d been so absorbed in his work that he hadn’t noticed how much time had passed.

  His brother entered the office and shut the door. “Trigger your suppressor.”

  Michael did. As soon as it hummed quietly, he asked, “What’s up?”

  Isaac crossed his arms and leaned against the door. “Dad was pretty upset about the princess.”

  Michael had noticed. He shrugged. “He’s always upset about something.”

  “I can’t believe you talked him into letting her stay.”

  “She’s too cute to let loose.”

  “You did it just to bother Dad, didn’t you?” Isaac stared at him. “I can see you doing something like that.”

  “It’s certainly not the only reason.”

  “Well, it’s not because she can type. Look at this.”

  He handed Michael a piece of paper. A letter, apparently typed by Dixie. He looked back up at Isaac, who rolled his eyes. “The princess can’t type. And her spelling’s a little off, also.”

  Michael smiled indulgently, smiling at her attempt to play at being a normal supernatural. “Anyone can spell that way.”

  “Phonetically?”

  “Shut up. She’s doing fine.”

  “Dad isn’t going to let her stay here. He’s probably calling the king right now to let him know where his precious daughter is.”

  “I doubt that. Dad said he’s hoping the king doesn’t find out, and he wants to keep her safe so there’s not an interspecies incident. He told me he’s surprised her father didn’t send bodyguards along with her.”

  “Maybe her father doesn’t know she’s here. Maybe he’s on his way into town right now to reclaim his precious daughter.”

  If that were true, then Michael didn’t have much time. He stood and grabbed his jacket.

  “Where are you going?” Isaac asked suspiciously.

  Michael turned to his brother. “I’m taking the princess to a movie.”

  “Are you insane?”

  “I’m thinking that I need to work fast.”

  “Well, at least wear sunscreen.”

  Michael rolled his eyes. “Next you’ll be telling me I’ll burst into flames in the sunlight. The false rumors about us vampires continue to grow wilder.”

  “My favorite is that we sparkle.”

  “That’s only when we’ve had too much fairy wine.” Michael nodded. “Now I need to get out of here. I might not have much time.”

  “Oh, man. You’re in such deep trouble. She can’t possibly be your lifemate. You need to get this under control, bro.”

  Michael waved to his youngest brother and walked out his office door.

  Excitement grew within him — as well as the buzzing in his limbs that increased as he approached Dixie’s desk.

  She had to be his lifemate.

  He was nearly sure of it.

  Michael had driven Dixie to Town Square and then walked her around, showing her some shops and, in the park in the center, the food stands. He worked his way toward Diggity Dogs.

  Dixie said, “Oh, look, an artist is at work!”

  He glanced over. “That’s Amber Winston, the sheriff’s new bride, and her monster paintings are really popular. I’ll introduce you after I grab us some hot dogs, if that sounds good to you.”

  “Sure. I love hot dogs.” She smiled at him. “Do you mind if I go watch her paint?”

  “Go ahead. I’ll bring your lunch to you.”

  “What’s that large green monster supposed to be? The one that looks like it’s standing watch over the artist?”

  “A troll. Henry is Amber’s protector. Watch out for the funky smell, though I heard that the witches gave him a potion to help with that.”

  “You’re funny.” Dixie laughed and then pointed. “And look. A little dog.”

  Michael smiled. “That’s Wolf, a.k.a. Caleb.”

  “Why two names? Is he in the bit-ness protection program?”

  He groaned. “Now that’s just bad.”

  Not willing to let another good zinger go, she added, “And you’d have to go into the writ-less protection program.”

  He shook his head. “Go check out the paintings. She’ll even paint you into one if you really like it.”

  He watched as Dixie practically danced over toward Amber.

  Finally, he turned to the Diggity Dogs stand.

  The vendor — a Peruvian were-llama named Alejandro Picante — watched Dixie as Michael approached. “We’d like two Vampire Bites, please.”

  “Both for you?” The man turned to him with a skeptical eye. “Or does the princess want one of my gourmet dogs?”

  “She does.”

  “Why?” There was a hostile edge to the man’s voice. “They weren’t good enough for her last month.”

  “I don’t know anything about that.”

  Alejandro stood straight and tall. “I sell hot dogs fit for both a king and a princess.”

  “I know. That’s why we’re here now. Change your cart-side manner and you might attract more customers.”

  The man glared at him.

  “See, that’s what I’m talking about. Most people would be put off by that right there.”

  Shaking his head, Alejandro used tongs to lift a hot dog onto a bun. He then put the works on it, ending with ketchup in a zig-zag pattern, and then repeated the process with the second dog.

  “Thanks.” Michael paid the man, and picked up the plates.

  Alejandro suddenly changed his tune. “Get the princess to leave a five-star review for me, will you? It would really improve my business. Maybe even some of the other fae would buy from me.”

  “I’ll mention it to her.” Michael turned around — and scowled.

  A man stood beside Dixie, talking with her. He was a large guy, built like a linebacker in prime condition, though his long hair was pulled back into a man-bun.

  Michael didn’t recognize the man, but he gave off warlock vibes. Powerful vibes. This was a warlock Michael would normally avoid tangling with, except that he was looking at Michael’s lifemate with far too much interest in his dark brown e
yes.

  In fact, he leaned toward her, sniffing her neck.

  “Hold that for us,” he told the vendor. Setting down the plates, he headed for his princess.

  He was going to protect her from this guy, whoever he was.

  We Come From Hardy Stock

  AS MICHAEL STORMED TOWARD DIXIE and the warlock, Dixie smiled at the man and started walking away toward Amber.

  Good. That would allow this conversation to be between him — and the interloper.

  The man strode off and Michael put on a burst of speed, taking the man’s arm and spinning him around. The man’s eyes narrowed and he settled into a fighting stance.

  “I don’t know who you are, but you need to know that the woman you were just speaking with is my lifemate.” He hadn’t intended to publicly claim her just yet — but the words spilled out of him. He would claim her. Starting now. “Stay away.”

  The warlock smiled at that and relaxed his stance. “Really? And who is she?”

  “Surely you recognize the princess.”

  “Princess Pixie? Does she know you’re her lifemate?”

  “Of course she does,” Michael lied. Not a lie, exactly, because maybe she did know, though he hadn’t asked her and she hadn’t said.

  When the man actually had the nerve to laugh, anger flared within Michael. “This isn’t funny. You don’t challenge a man for his lifemate.”

  “I agree.” The other man nodded. “But consider this, What if she’s my lifemate and not yours?”

  Michael clenched his fists to keep from pounding the other man. “Her father wouldn’t want her hanging around a warlock.”

  “And do you suppose he will look more favorably upon a vampire?” The man’s tone was mocking, but Michael felt he was mocking himself, as well.

  “He won’t be pleased with either,” Michael admitted.

  “Then let us not argue. Perhaps Pixie has a cousin or some other distant relative whom one of us could have as our lifemate.”

  “I’ll ask her. If she does, feel free to court that cousin.”

  “Great idea. I’ll do that.” The man laughed again. “And now I have an errand I must be about. Good day to you, vampire.”