Diamonds and Toads: A Modern Fairy Tale (21 page)

She sat down in the chair next to him. “We’ve
got tonight. All of it. Let’s not waste it with bitterness and
regret. Okay?”

He sighed and sat up. “You’re right. We made
a bargain and I didn’t keep it, did I?” A huff of a laugh exploded
from his throat. “I did say I wanted truth tonight.” He looked her
in the eye then. “I guess I just didn’t realize how much more
sad—and painful—it would be to hear than the lies you told.”

He stood up. “How about some coffee?”

She smiled. “Sure.” She stood up then, too.
“I’ll make it.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Why not? I make great coffee.”

“Ha! Hardly.”

“I do! Just watch.” She strode past him into
the kitchen, not missing the fact that he was directly on her heels
the whole time.
What a cynic.

As she scooped the coffee into the filter,
Sam came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist.
“Let’s stay up all night. Make love. Tell each other our most
embarrassing secrets.”

She closed her eyes and leaned into him.
“Okay,” she breathed.

“What’s your biggest secret, Iz? The one
you’ve never told anyone.”

She felt heat rise to her cheeks, but she’d
made a bargain and she intended to keep it. “I—I never had an
orgasm before you.”

“I know.”

She tensed and tried to turn in his arms, but
he wouldn’t let her. “How did you know? Was that why you—at the
gala—about Chas? Oh God. Was it that obvious?”

He nuzzled her neck. “No, not to anyone who
isn’t as tuned into you as I am. It was that look of awe you had on
your face when I brought you to the edge last night. Here. On the
table.”

“Oh.” She pushed the filter tray in and
turned on the maker.
Change the subject.
“So…what’s your big
secret, Sam?”

“I lied to you.”

She pulled out of his embrace and faced him.
“What do you mean? About what?”

“It’s been longer than two years since I was
with someone. A lot longer. More like eight years, two months and”—
he glanced at the calendar hanging next to the stove—“four—no,
five—days, to be exact.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Believe it. It’s true.”

“Bull. You’re the ‘Harvard Gigolo.’”

The look on his face grew sheepish.
“Technically, I wasn’t really a gigolo. Not in the strictest sense.
I was a nineteen-year-old guy getting no-strings sex, pretty much
as often as I wanted it, from a few older women. Friends of my
mother’s who, if truth be told, seduced
me
. My editor
thought up the title. More titillating, so more sales.”

“But—but
eight years!
”

He shrugged. “After you—well, let’s just say,
I decided my energies were better served by work.”

Okay. That hurt.
Her eyes grew wide
with horror. “What about those condoms? They’d better not be that
old.”

One side of his mouth tipped up in a grin.
“No worries. I bought them yesterday, when I picked up your
clothes.”

She narrowed her eyes at him.

“Come on, Iz. Why would a guy lie about not
getting laid in over eight years?”

“To break a woman’s heart and make her want
to stay with him forever.”

“Really?” He crowded her against the sink
counter. “You want to stay with me now?” He wrapped her legs around
his waist and kissed her hard on the mouth. At first, she tried to
break away, but when he pressed the length of his erection against
the heat of her, dipped his hand inside the chambray shirt she’d
put on a few minutes ago, and stroked her breast, her bones
melted.

Long minutes later, he broke the kiss and
rested his forehead against hers. “I figured you’d laugh your head
off. It’s what I was prepared for, anyway.”

“Make love to me again, Sam.”

“As if my life depended on it,” he said and
then he lifted her into his arms and carried her back to bed.

* * *

Sam handed Isadora the fairy phone and then
kissed her brow. “Thanks for last night.”

She dropped her eyes to hide the moisture
there and cleared her throat. “Get laid more often, will ya? It’s
not good for a guy your age to be celibate. I think it messes with
your brainwaves or…or something.”

He cleared his throat, too. “Okay.”

Tugging on the wrinkled chambray shirt she
wore, tied at the waist with a length of nautical rope, she looked
at the green oversized flip-flops she’d found in his closet. “Just
to let you know, I’m burning these rags the minute I get home.
Don’t think for a minute that I’m going to keep them as a memento,
like some sappy teenager,” she lied.

His chuckle held little humor. “No. I
wouldn’t dare think that of you. I know better.”

She turned then and headed toward the dock.
He placed his hand at the small of her back and walked along with
her.

“
Isadora! Isadora Perrault!”

She stopped midstride. “Mother! What are you
doing here?”

Her mother stormed toward them in the red
Armani suit and five-inch leopard print pumps Delilah had bought
for her. How she was managing to miss the separations in the deck
planks only God knew. “Be careful, Mother!”

She came to a stop about five paces from them
and slammed her hands on her hips. The high color on her cheeks was
not a good sign. Nor the fact that her nostrils flared with the
exertion of each angered breath she took. “You didn’t return last
night.”

“No. I—I fell into the water, Mother. I
almost drowned—I would have if Sam hadn’t rescued me.”

Her mother did a quick scan of Isadora’s
attire. “I see.”

“I was just leaving.”

Her mother visibly relaxed. “And the
phone
? Did you
find
it?”

“Yes.”

Her mother held out her hand. “
Give
it
to me.”

Isadora looked at Sam. He hadn’t shaved and
the stubble on his face, along with his morning-mussed hair, gave
him the look of a disheveled rake from one of her favorite regency
novels. His shirt was opened to just past his belly button and his
jeans fit as snug as a pair of pantaloons. All that was missing was
a sabre on his hip.

“
Isadora!
I
demand
you give me
that
phone
!”

She forced her gaze up to his and in it she
saw his love for her, though it was muted by bleak heartache. There
was resolve and understanding there, too. She lifted her hand to
his cheek, but only for the briefest of moments, then she turned
her eye on her mother.

The woman’s wrath formed a rage-red aura
around her ramrod-spined form.

Isadora sent one more glance in Sam’s
direction before returning her gaze to her mother. “I’m staying
with Sam.”

“Whoop!” Sam yelled.

She turned and faced him. “Sam, will you
marry me?”

“—What! I
forbid
it.”

“—Hell yes.” He scooped her off her feet and
gave her a kiss.

“You will
put
as big a
blight
on our family name by
marrying
this scum as your
father
did with
his
shen
ani
gan
s
. I
simply can
not
allow it. Come
down
off that
rat’
s nest of a
vessel
and return
home
with me
right this
instant
.”

Isadora kept her lips locked to Sam’s but
waved ‘bye’ to her mother. Then she wrapped both arms around his
neck and sent her tongue deep into his mouth. “Mmm.”

Her mother stomped her foot.
“This
instant, Isadora.
”

She was finding it hard to kiss and grin at
the same time, but somehow she managed it. So did he.

“
Isadora!”

“I love you, Sam,” she said against his mouth
and then she turned back to her mother. “Here’s the phone.
Catch.”

Her mother’s eyes bugged out and she lost all
semblance of ladylike demeanor as she leapt up with both hands in
the air.

Something extraordinary happened then. In
mid-flight, the phone burst apart and, in a puff of pink sparkles
and patchouli scented mist, transformed into the most beautiful
woman Isadora had ever seen.

“Holy shit!” Sam yelled, shoving Isadora
behind his back.

She grabbed his arm. “It’s the fairy. She’s
not going to hurt us.”

As the fairy lady floated above the boat in a
turquoise and purple silk Reformation style gown, a thought flashed
through Isadora’s fashionista mind:
Is that real ermine along
the hemline?

“Isadora,” her mother yelled, “
tell
her to bless me.”

“No, my girl, you had your chance years ago,
and failed,” the fairy said to Isadora’s mother before she swirled
to face Isadora and Sam. “Ta-ta my lovelies,” she said and then
shot high into the air, leaving a comet-tail of glitter in her
wake.

Isadora’s mother screeched and stomped her
feet. “This is
entirely
your fault, Isadora! If you’d only
done
as I told you to do, this
never
would have
happened.” She jabbed her pointed, red-nailed finger at Isadora. “I
wash
my hands of you. You are
dead
to me.” She spun
around and stomped away.

As Isadora stood numbly watching her mother’s
receding form, the BlackBerry in her clutch sang out.

“You dropped your purse,” Sam said.

“Yeah, I know,” she said and reached for it,
pulling out her phone at the same time.

“Hello?”

“
It’s just me, Dora dear. Wanted to say
one other little thing: Tell your daughters that I’ll be seeing
them in twenty years or so. Well, must be off—it’s nearing Samhain,
you know. Toodles.”

Her mouth dropped open. “Did you hear
that?”

“Yeah, but what does it mean?”

“It means she’s going to curse our kids.”

There was a long pause. “Or bless.”

Isadora blinked at her BlackBerry. “Yeah. Or
bless.”

“I really didn’t believe you about the fairy
thing, not until a few minutes ago. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, well. Now that you know—are you still
so sure you want to marry me?”

“Absolutely. We’re living a fairy tale,
right? So—no worries, just ‘happily ever after.’”

Isadora grinned and flung her arms around
Sam’s neck. “It’s about time.”

As she embraced him once more, as their lips
melded in a tender kiss, a distant sound of tinkling feminine
laughter floated down from up above and swirls of pink glitter and
silver stars encircled them.

And that is how a little fairy magic made
Delilah and Isadora’s dreams come true.

[The End]

Diamonds and Toads: A Modern Fairy Tale

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Author updates can be found at

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Available May 2012