Phoenix in My Fortune (A Monster Haven Story Book 6) (5 page)

BOOK: Phoenix in My Fortune (A Monster Haven Story Book 6)
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“What?” I stared at her with my jaw hanging loose.

“Don’t look at me like that.” She gave me a self-satisfied smile. “It’ll be easy. And fun! For the first time, we can choose what we think is best and not have the bride second guessing us the whole time.”

I swallowed hard, trying not to be angry. “Let me see if I understand this. You booked us a wedding with an absent bride who wants us to...what? Just make it look nice? And you agreed to this, even though you can’t actually meet with any of the vendors yourself? And then you nearly forgot to tell me?”

She rolled her eyes. “Come on, Zo. It’ll be easy. I’m still running point on it. I’ll spread out the appointments so it’s not too much of a burden on you.” She paused. “It’s not like you’ve got anything else going on.”

She had me there. “Fine. So, who’s this bride, and what’s her deal?”

Sara’s eyes sparkled as she whipped out her smartphone. “Her name is Fiona, and she’s a journalist. Her mother is pressuring her to have a traditional wedding, but Fiona isn’t really into that sort of thing. That’s why she’s leaving it up to us.”

“Why doesn’t her mother do it, then?”

Sara shrugged. “Mom lives out of town, too. Destination wedding.”

“The groom?” I was beginning to wonder if anyone had any interest in this wedding besides Sara.

“He lives on a ranch in Texas.”

“So...what? He’s too busy with the cattle drive to be involved?”

“Something like that.” Sara’s smile was sweet and charming.

It occurred to me she was handling me the way she handled clients. I sighed and tried to be less trouble. “Okay. So, lay it on me. How much time do we have, and what do I need to take care of?”

Sara swiped her finger across the screen, her expression intense. “Don’t panic, but we’ve got less than three months.” I started to protest, and she held her hand up to stop me. “Seriously, Zoey. This is an easy one. I promise.” She swiped a few more times, then tapped the screen twice. “There. Your schedule is printing out.”

She ran inside and reappeared a minute later, waving a piece of paper.

I peered at it, my heart sinking. “Oh, come on. You said there wasn’t much to do.”

“Suck it up. It’s our last gig.” She made an uncharacteristic pouty face. “Can’t we enjoy planning one last wedding together before we break up the band for good?”

“Harsh.” I stared at the paper. My first appointment was for the next day, so at least I was getting right to it. “Moira’s?”

“See? Not like it’s a hardship.”

I smiled. “Okay, fine. I’ll go hang out with Moira for a little while tomorrow and taste cakes. But I’m getting red velvet. If I’m doing this and the bride doesn’t care, I’m getting stuff I want.”

“Fine by me.” Sara stuffed her phone in her bra. I was relieved she was wearing one. Casual, barefoot Sara was a little weird for me to get used to. As it was, she was dressed in shorts and a tank top, despite the outside temperature of fifty-four degrees.

I glanced at the list again. “Wait, I have to pick out her bridesmaid dresses and the tuxedos?”

Sara chuckled. “I knew that one would get you.
We
will pick out the dresses together.
You
will go and get them.”

“How can we choose the right dresses if the women aren’t here to try them on? I might pick something totally inappropriate for their shapes.”

“Relax. I’ve got their measurements. Whatever we choose will be good enough for someone who isn’t looking for perfection.”

A spike of sadness speared my heart. I’d been in the wedding planning business with Sara for years. I agreed we couldn’t do it anymore. Balancing the Aegis gig with work had been difficult, but now that Sara couldn’t meet with clients and vendors in person anymore, we didn’t have enough of either of us left to make it work. But this ridiculous wedding for a bride who didn’t care would be our final job, and it felt wrong.

It should have been something better. Something that showcased how awesome we were as a team and how much we loved what we did.

Screw it. So what if the bride didn’t give a damn? I did. And I was going to make Fiona’s wedding the shiniest, most beautiful wedding ever, whether she liked it or not.

Chapter Five

Moira’s bakery smelled like an enchanted land of oatmeal cookie bushes and chocolate milk ponds, with cotton candy animals frolicking across fondant fields, sprinkled by the magic wands of powdered-sugar fairies.

Okay. It smelled like a bakery.

Riley had let me out at the door, then parked across the street to wait for me. The bakery should be as safe as my own home—and if something happened, I’d been there enough times to know where all the exits were. I wasn’t exactly breaking my own rule about going out alone. It was more like I was bending it a little.

When Riley sat beside me for a cake consultation, I wanted it to be for our own wedding.

Moira Eccles was a tiny woman with the speed and metabolism of a hummingbird. Her shop, Splendid Creations, had always been my first choice when helping brides choose a bakery, so I was pleased that Sara had booked me an appointment to see her about Fiona’s cake. If it were to be my last cake appointment, let it be with the best.

Plus, I hadn’t seen Moira in ages. I’d been too busy saving people and preventing the apocalypse. It would be nice to sit down with her, taste her delicious wares and catch up a little.

Moira saw me coming up the sidewalk and threw the door open before I could touch it. “Zoey!” Her round face beamed at me, and she gave me a quick hug. “You look wonderful!”

I allowed myself to be ushered through the front and into a small meeting room toward the back of the shop, where a bottle of champagne and two glasses sat waiting.

I gave her a puzzled look. “What’s all this? It’s just me today. The client isn’t coming.”

She smiled and poured a glass of bubbly liquid, handed it to me and poured a second one. “It’s been months since I last saw you. We have things to celebrate while we work.” Her eyes sparkled and she eyed the ring that hadn’t been on my finger the last time I saw her. “Well? Let me have a look.”

Grinning, I held my left hand out so she could examine the ring Riley had given me. A simple, princess cut, one-carat diamond nestled between two tiny, dark stones. Officially, we told people the stones were black sapphires, but the truth was, Riley had talked his way into acquiring a couple of chips from the soul-stone cutter. Reapers, like Riley, and soul chasers, like Darius and Kam, used the powerful stones to collect souls that needed to be transported to the release stations. My two chips weren’t big enough to house a soul, but they did offer a little protection from errant spirits and demon possession—or so I was told. They were awfully small chips.

Besides. I knew a few demons. I wasn’t convinced possession was actually a thing.

Moira oohed and aahed over my ring, turning my hand this way and that to catch the light. “Gorgeous! So? How did he do it?”

I smiled. Riley had left me a note to meet him at Molly’s mushroom house. I’d found him hovering above the tiny dwelling, grinning from ear to ear, riding a sphinx and holding his hand out to me like Aladdin on his magic carpet. But I couldn’t share that story with her. No one outside our Hidden family could know how he’d really done it.

“It was really sweet. He took me out to dinner and waited until dessert.” I laughed. “A guy with a violin showed up at our table, and I didn’t hear what Riley said the first time because the violin was so loud. I had to ask him to repeat himself.”

Moira chuckled. “I bet that ruined the moment.”

“He recovered. Got down on one knee for the repeat and made a big speech. It was beautiful. The whole restaurant applauded.”

“I wish I could have been there to see it.” She beamed. “I really am so happy for you, Zoey. Have you set a date yet?”

She released my hand, and we settled into our chairs across the table from each other.

I took a sip of champagne and sighed. “Nothing official yet. We’ve got a lot going on right now, so we’re thinking sometime late next year.”

Her forehead creased. “It’s a shame it won’t be sooner.”

I didn’t understand. “I’m in no hurry. We practically live together anyway. We’ll get to it eventually.”

“No, that’s not it.” She twirled her champagne flute between her fingers, watching the bubbles swirl in the glass. “I’m selling the shop and retiring to Florida with my sister.”

My heart sank. No Moira? No Splendid Creations? Hadn’t my world already been altered enough? I realized I was being selfish. I hadn’t even seen her in months. It wasn’t as if she had to plan her life around my convenience. But really, she was my go-to baker. I’d always expected she would be the one to do my wedding cake someday.

I forced myself to give her a bright smile. “Florida. Wow.” I took a second to gather myself together. Moira had worked hard. She deserved this. I raised my glass to her. “Congratulations. I’ll miss you—and your delicious cakes—but I’m really happy for you.”

She grinned and raised her glass in return. “Thank you. And congratulations on your engagement. I know you’re going to be very happy.”

We each took a sip, then set down our glasses.

“Let’s get to work,” she said. “If this is going to be our last collaboration, I want to make it spectacular.”

I reached into my magic purse without looking and pulled out the skimpy notes on Fiona’s wedding. Sara had given me very little to go on. Apparently, Fiona liked bold and whimsical designs, wanted a variety of cake and filling flavors but didn’t care which ones and still hadn’t chosen her color scheme.

“I’m afraid we’ll have to do the majority of the work on this one.” I flipped the page on my notes, hoping something new had appeared on the back. It hadn’t. “We’ll also be planning this without knowing the final colors. Sara couldn’t get a decision out of the bride, so I’m going to call her myself.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time the colors changed on me.” She jotted something down on her own notepad. “Just make sure I have them before I make the fondant for it. I’ve had people change their minds when the cake is half finished.”

“I’ll call her tonight.”

Moira and I talked about the design of the cake, and since it had been left up to me, I went with a four-layer topsy-turvy cake with bold designs alternating between whatever colors Fiona chose. Moira sketched a few ideas for me, and I picked out the parts I liked best. Or rather, what I hoped Fiona would like best. Seeing the sketch, I felt a little less irritated that Sara had booked this absentee-bride wedding. It gave me the opportunity to put a piece of myself into it in a way I couldn’t with previous brides.

Although I’d tasted Moira’s samples a hundred times in the past, this would be my last shot. I took my time dragging bits of cake through frosting and fillings, savoring every combination I could think to put together. In the end, I chose a different setup for each layer. The bottom was a simple French vanilla cake with Bavarian crème filling. Next up, a chocolate fudge with peanut butter cream, then lemon cake with fresh strawberry filling. The top tier was a red velvet with whipped cream cheese filling.

“If Fiona can’t find something to like in those combinations, I guess she should have made the time to choose for herself,” I said, draining my last glass.

Moira smiled as she finished jotting down notes on the job order. “They’re excellent choices, Zoey. You did a good job.”

She walked me to the door, and a lump formed in my throat.

Don’t be stupid, Zoey. She’s not leaving tomorrow.

I brushed aside the sudden bout of melancholy. “Thanks for everything, Moira. I’ll see you again before you leave.”

“Of course you will,” she said. “I can’t leave until I sell the business, and I’m not even putting it up for sale for another few weeks.” She paused, her face wistful. “And when the time comes, I hope you’ll send me a wedding invitation so I can come back for it.”

Her request touched me. She was a trusted business colleague and someone I would have called a friend. It was good to know she felt the same way and was willing to travel all the way from Florida to be at my wedding. That was something only a true friend did.

“Of course I will.” I gave her a quick hug. “I’ll come by and see you soon.”

I took two steps down the sidewalk, and my big black SUV pulled up to the curb next to me. The window rolled down.

Riley winked from behind the wheel. “Hey, cutie. Need a lift?”

I pretended to think about it. “Do you have any candy?”

He gave me a serious look. “Do you
want
some candy?”

“Oh, no!” I shook my head. “I’m not supposed to take candy from strange men.”

“Ah. Then, no. I don’t have any candy.” He graced me with his most charming smile.

“Fantastic! I could really use a ride.” I hopped into the passenger side of my own car. “No funny business, though. I have a fiancé.”

Riley snorted. “That guy? You deserve so much better.”

I laced my fingers through his and smiled. “You’re probably right. I am pretty fabulous.”

Any minute, the world would probably be in danger again. But for the moment, I was content. Also, a little buzzed from the champagne, but Riley didn’t need to know that.

* * *

Since we were in Sausalito already, we made a run to Sara’s house to pick up her mail and collect her newspapers. Sara and Maurice were able to spend time inside the house by traveling through the closet network to get there. Going outside was a no-no for a demon and a closet monster, considering her house was on a fairly busy neighborhood street with lots of people walking their dogs and kids riding skateboards.

The Homeowners Association would probably hold an emergency meeting to vote on monster residency policies, not to mention how fast the Neighborhood Watch would get a SWAT team out to blow open Sara’s front door.

Better for Riley and me to handle the mail and the lawn service.

We left the mail and the newspapers on the kitchen counter, knowing Sara would probably be by in the evening. On our way out the door, I stopped at her refrigerator and turned all her magnets upside down.

Not only would it irritate her, it would drive Maurice crazy, too.

“Next time we come,” I said, taking a souvenir picture of Sara and me at the aquarium and flipping it sideways, “let’s rearrange the furniture.”

Riley didn’t look enthused. “Oh, that sounds like loads of fun. Why don’t we paint the place orange and green while we’re at it?”

I gave him a hard look. “Sarcasm before three? Shame on you.”

He shrugged. “I like to get an early start.”

From Sara’s, we drove across town to the office. Riley waited in the car while I collected the junk mail and flyers that had piled up through the mail slot. Before I flipped off the light and shut the door, I took a good look at the little room where Sara and I had spent so many hours interviewing clients, calming brides, shouting at vendors.

I still had to figure out what to do with all the furniture, office supplies and the craft stuff in the back room. We didn’t want to keep paying rent on a space we no longer used. Something had to be done. I wasn’t ready to give it up quite yet, and I didn’t want to believe that Sara was, either.

I sighed and locked the door.

Once that was done, we found a spot to park around the corner for one last errand.

The bell jingled as we stepped inside the herbal shop, and a blur of fuzz and fur catapulted from across the room into my arms. I was ready for him. Milo, the utterly dashing fennec fox, was my biggest fan—and I was his. He covered my face in foxy kisses, and I laughed while I let him smother me.

I gave him a gentle hug and kissed the soft fur behind his one good ear. “I missed you, too, sweet boy. How about you let me come in the rest of the way?”

Riley scratched Milo’s head and got a foxy kiss of his own on the back of his hand.

Andrew appeared from the back, drying his hands on a dishcloth. “Well, look who you found, Milo. Tell them to come in and sit down.” He grinned and waved us through to the comfy old sofa at the back of the store. “Let me make some tea and I’ll be right over.”

Riley and I snuggled into the couch with Milo, who trampled back and forth between us, whapping us each in the face with his bottlebrush tail and making excited yips. At my feet, a nose pushed at my ankles, and Milo’s brother Howard, the enormous, grumpy-looking gray bunny, shoved himself behind my legs. Once he was settled in his Zoey-fort, Howard refused to budge while he shredded a piece of newspaper he found under the sofa.

Andrew crossed the room carrying three mugs of steeping tea. “Ah, the boys love their Aunt Zoey.” He grinned and set the mugs on the table in front of us. “You look a little down, Zo. I made you my Sunshine tea. It chases away the clouds.”

I blew on the hot liquid and took a tentative sip. “Tastes like raspberries.”

“Among other things.” He tipped his head toward Riley’s cup. “I made you green tea with mint. That’s your favorite, right?”

Riley’s eyes twinkled. “Thanks for remembering.”

We sat in comfortable silence while we blew on our tea. Andrew was his typical cheery self, all freckles and motion in a compact, muscular frame that always seemed ready to spring into action any second.

But something was off. I couldn’t quite place it, since I tried to keep my filters shut tight around my friends for fear of eavesdropping on their emotions. When I’d first found out I was an empath and learned to block out other people’s feelings, I’d learned quickly that I had no ability to read other people by body language alone. I’d always relied on my empath skills, though I hadn’t known I was doing it.

Since then, I’d learned a little about how to read people—plus I had some sleuthing skills I hadn’t exercised in the past. Andrew’s shoulders weren’t held as straight as usual. A tiny, nearly imperceptible line had formed between his eyes since the last time I’d seen him.

And if my nose was reading things right, he was drinking the raspberry tea, too.

I cleared my throat. “So.” I took a sip, not breaking eye contact. No use beating around the bush. “What’s wrong.” It was more a command than a question. He’d have cornered me the same way if the situation had been reversed.

Andrew sighed. “Wow. That took, what, three minutes since you walked through the door?”

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