Pretty in Peep-Toes: Love Ever After, #3

1

Madeleine

You." It was all I could say, because my blood was boiling. That blond-haired idiot had no right to be in my shop.

Maddie. How are you?

And he was sitting on my favorite stool behind my counter in my shop. He was like an invading army. Oh, I liked that analogy, because that meant I could bash him over the head. Anyone who encroached on enemy territory deserved a good head-bashing. All’s fair in love and war, especially a little head bashing.

He held up a hand. Stop. Whatever your pretty head is thinking, don’t do it. I’m here at the Council’s request.

Did he have to say pretty in such a derogatory way? As if my looks somehow offended him. There was nothing wrong with the way I looked. Also, did he have to make me sound like an airhead?

"Why are you here, Edgar?"

If he was bothered by the name, he didn’t show it. He crossed his arms and looked smug. Then again, that could just be the natural set of his face. I liked that idea: he had resting smug face.

Come on. Spill. What are you doing inside my shop? What errand are you running for the Council this time?

He didn’t seem particularly bothered by the implied insult. I wouldn’t want to be the Council’s lackey, but his lips twitched with amusement.

Bad. Very bad.

When Satan arrived smiling on your doorstep, nothing good could follow.

I’m your new mentor. Then he grinned an evil, Machiavellian grin.

Okay, maybe he just grinned, but he was evil so that made all his grins evil and Machiavellian by default.

That was my story, and I was sticking to it.

I wasn’t attracted to that grin or the tousled dark blond hair or the sexy shadow of scruff on his jaw or his piercing blue eyes.

Eyes that danced with humor.

Nothing kills sexy thoughts faster than being laughed at. Just as well, because he could not find out I thought he was walking sex appeal. He’d never let me live it down, and he’d also gain the upper hand in our relationship.

Wait… "My mentor? You?"

No. Nooooo.

I needed to hide in the supply closet and cry. The man who’d ratted me out to the Council, the man who’d been the cause of my current probation, was now my mentor.

Don’t look that way, Maddie. It’s not that bad.

Oh, yeah—and he was also the guy I’d had a one-night stand with ages ago. He’d rocked my world. I hadn’t rocked his.

Why? Why, universe? Why me? Oops. I hadn’t mean to actually say that out loud. Stupid man with his crazy hotness. He was scrambling my brains.

Why you? You’re really asking that question? Maddie, you’re on probation and you created a time portal for mortal use. That’s against the most basic of rules.

True statement, but— A dream portal, not a physical one.

He barked out a harsh laugh. "Right. Sure. Until the Council warned you to stop, then you created a physical one."

Also true. I’d felt the Council breathing down my neck, so I’d accelerated my plan and brought my client’s best possibility for true love into the present.

Was it my fault the universe had a terrible sense of humor? Why else would the perfect match for my present-day client live over a hundred years ago?

I did it for true love. Isn’t that what my punishment is all about? Prioritizing love?

Sam—because that was his name when he wasn’t role-playing personal shopping guru Edgar—let loose an exasperated sigh. Maddie. You’re not being punished. Your probation is the Council’s way of protecting your clients and helping you do a better job.

It feels like punishment. Which wasn’t entirely true. It had started that way, but now, two matches in, it felt like… What did it feel like? It felt like winning at life. I loved that Hillary and Brad were so blissfully happy. I adored that Beth and Edward had found the other halves of their hearts.

But back to the whole punishment thing. The Council, in their less than infinite wisdom, had determined my fairy godmothering insufficiently holistic.

In other words, I’d helped along a few too many careers, fiddled with a few too many troubled families, without keeping the bigger picture in mind. Supposedly. I called unicorn manure.

Someone—I glared at Sam—snitched on me when my fiddling in one area of a client’s life had the unfortunate side effect of ending a budding romance…or three. Maybe five. Actually, I wasn’t sure how many.

But in my defense, none of those failed romances had the whiff of true love. If they had, they would have survived a teensy bit of stress. And if they had gleamed with the bright possibility of true love, then I’d have made sure they were nurtured and helped along.

Confusion in spotting true love possibilities in my personal life did not equate with a failure to spot them in clients’ lives.

It’s not punishment, Sam said, then he growled. An actual, grumbly, manly man growl of frustration.

He really didn’t like me. Too bad his growls made my skin prickle in a yummy way. Stupid man.

Stripping my duties to facilitating love matches, making me little more than a cupid with fairy dust, that’s not punishment? I was not about to mention how much satisfaction I’d gleaned from my recent successes. I’d have made those matches whether on probation or not. Probably.

He squeezed his eyes shut. When he opened them, he said, You weren’t giving love a chance, Maddie. You know I’m right.

I give true love a chance, when I find it. Do you even know what the possibility of one true love looks like?

Clearly, I didn’t in my personal life, since I’d thought at one time that Sam was my possibility of true love. But at least I knew what it looked like for my clients.

His jaw tightened. He looked like he wanted to say something—something not particularly kind, if I had to guess—but he kept his silence.

Okay, let’s say for argument’s sake that my probation isn’t a punishment. What the heck do you call this? I waved my hand in his general direction. Are you claiming that your assignment as my mentor isn’t a punishment?

Lips thin, he replied, I’m starting to wonder.

2

Sam

Why had I taken this assignment?

Why?

That question thudded an angry beat in my head as I walked to my apartment. It (and a decent bottle of whiskey) was only two blocks away, thankfully. I was going to give myself a migraine, if I didn’t stop beating myself up about this stupid assignment.

Or rather, my stupid decision to take this assignment.

It’s not as if the Council had approached me and asked if I wanted to mentor Madeleine. No, I’d gotten wind of her pending mentorship and offered myself up on a platter. Better me than someone who didn’t care for her.

Who knew what type of miserable, uptight, rule fanatic the Council would pressure into mentoring her? I might be rule-following, but I didn’t blindly adhere to Council dictates. I was a rule follower with heart. And vision, even if Maddie refused to acknowledge it.

She drove me crazy with her willful blindness, and yet here I was, tying myself to her for at least the duration of a case or two.

She needed my help.

She wouldn’t see it that way, but my inside man on the Council told me they were close to levying a real punishment. Limiting her assignments and providing guidance in the form of a mentor weren’t that, regardless of how ardently she believed them to be.

The Council believed providing a more structured environment would nudge Maddie toward compliance. In their minds, they were helping. And in a heavy-handed, old-fashioned way, maybe they were. Assigning a mentor was certainly better than moving directly to restricting her powers.

That was the next step. If she didn’t start speaking to the Council in a language they understood, they were going to take away some of her magic.

That would crush Maddie. I couldn’t live with myself if I stood by and watched while she had parts of her magic stripped away.

And there was also the small fact of her being right.

I would never tell her as much, but she’d done the right thing. She’d matched two mortals who belonged together. She’d put two halves of a whole together, and yes, she’d cross temporal lines to do it, but she’d helped two people find their One True Love.

Her first match had been more of an accident, but it had been the result of exceptional intuition. Leave it to Maddie to spot the exact same weakness in another woman that she clung to so blindly herself.

Her client Hillary had refused to open her heart, so Maddie had provided a set of fairy-dusted spectacles to encourage her to see the possibility of love. Granted, Maddie’s magic had taken a literal turn by allowing Hillary to see a previously invisible man, but everything had worked out well. Brad had not just been Hillary’s possibility of true love, but her One True Love. The couple were currently living their very own love ever after, which was the greatest sort of success for an FG.

Reality reasserted itself as I approached my building. Hillary wasn’t Maddie. It would take more than a spelled pair of glasses to open my pretty lady’s stubbornly closed eyes.

My phone rang just as I reached my building. I’d taken a loft above a bakery. The smells were divine, worth even the early morning noise of predawn bakers toiling hours before I’d normally waken.

Cuz, how can I help you? Charlotte only called when she needed a favor. A fact I found only mildly annoying, since she was my favorite cousin.

Just checking in to see if your heart was still intact, or if it had been shredded into tiny bloody ribbons.

I glanced around to make sure no one was near. Ridiculous maybe, but Maddie was my deep dark secret. I pushed open the side door that led to the stairs and apartments above. Lowering my voice, I replied, Thanks for the disgusting imagery, but my heart is still in one happily beating piece.

Uh-huh. How’d your girl take the news that you’re her new boss?

How do you know this stuff? I opted for the stairs over the elevator. FGs might not be susceptible to heart disease, but we needed exercise as much as humans. She didn’t reply, so I addressed the obvious errors in her statement. She’s not my girl, and I’m not her boss.

Pfft. You may as well be. I’d be pissed if the Council of Stuffed Shirts tried to stick me with a mentor.

I paused on the landing. How have you stayed off the Council’s radar? You’re a walking rebellion. You never follow the rules.

Aww, it’s like you actually know me. Not that you ever call or even remember my birthday.

I rolled my eyes as I continued up the stairs. I always remembered her birthday. She didn’t remember mine. Charlotte wasn’t the most organized FG. She had a good heart—the best—but her memory left something to be desired. She needed a keeper. Thankfully, she had Miles, who was the next best thing.

How’s Miles doing?

She didn’t reply.

Charlie, what’s going on?

A watery sniffle broke the silence. I’m not sure how Miles is doing, because he broke up with me.

Charlie and Miles went together like cake and ice cream. Like fizz and root beer.

Nobody wanted flat root beer.

What happened?

I can’t really talk about it. Not yet. Anyway, I called you as a distraction, and you’re failing miserably.

I arrived at my apartment. Leaning my head against the door, I tried to think of something to cheer her up. Madeleine told me where I could shove my self-righteous mentorship about two seconds before she kicked me out of her shop.

Then I told Charlie exactly where I was supposed to be shoving my mentorship.

She giggled. It was a snotty, sniffly giggle, but it was a start. You’re so obviously over the moon for her. I have no idea how she doesn’t know.

Because I’m a master of deception.

She snorted. You’re not, Sam. Not even a little bit. Her breath caught as she inhaled deeply, but when she spoke I could tell her tears were fading. Now go drink a big whiskey for me. And make sure you keep me updated. I’m dying to know how this little adventure pans out for you.

You’re dying to see me tormented and humiliated? Because I’m fairly certain that’s Maddie’s plan for me right now.

"Oh, yes. That sounds wonderful. Exactly what you deserve. Any boy who puts worms in a girl’s