Pink Princess Fairytini (Fairy Files #2) (15 page)

A knock at the door interrupted me.

“Hieronymus, just give me a minute,” I shouted. I faced Frost again. “I’m not a charity case and I’m not your—”

“Chloe? What’s going on?” Harvey stood in my doorway, flowers in hand. I could only imagine what he thought, seeing Hieronymus at my door and Frost in my apartment.

“You’re early,” I said, both annoyed and desperately trying to come up with a reasonable explanation. Then it occurred to me that I didn’t need a reasonable explanation, I wasn’t doing anything wrong.

“Hello, Harvey,” Frost said. “Chloe was just telling me off for paying for her lawyer and then lying about it. She’ll probably refuse my help, like she always does, and lose her club. I wonder how she heard about the lawyer in the first place. Do you have any idea?”

“Frost—” I started, meaning to tell him to let me handle it.

“Why are you paying for a lawyer for her anyway?” Harvey asked. “What kind of
friend
does that?”

Frost shook his head. “In case you’re wondering, I’m rooting for you, man. I think you’re a good guy and you could be good for her. But if you don’t stop being blinded by jealousy and allow her the independence she needs, you’re going to lose her. And if you keep wasting time fighting with her, when you could be loving her, you’re a bigger idiot than I thought.” Frost brushed past Harvey and out the door. “And I’m the kind of
friend
who doesn’t want to see her lose the club she’s worked so hard to achieve. I would think even the least decent kind of friend would do that much.”

Then he walked out, leaving me alone with Harvey. Harvey’s shoulders slumped. I was already tired of the jealous routine. I was with him and, though I might be a lot of things, I wasn’t a cheater. That he doubted me, hurt, but it also made me furious. My boyfriend should be the last person to doubt me.

“Thank you for the flowers, Harvey, but you should probably go. When I agreed to dinner, I forgot that I already had a training session with Hieronymus planned.”

“Hieronymus?” he asked, looking dazed.

“Yes, my mother sends him once a week to teach me how to fight like a warrior and behave like a princess.”

He smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. “That’s an interesting combination. Who are you expected to fight? Maids who leave a pea between your mattresses?”

It occurred to me that, though Harvey and I had seen each other regularly for the past two years, he didn’t know me at all. “I’ll be expected to fight anyone who threatens my mother or the kingdom she rules. If there’s a war, I’ll be expected to battle on the front lines.”

“Don’t they worry about their princess being killed?” His smile faded a fraction, and doubt rose in his eyes.

“A fairy princess who can be killed so easily is of no use to her people,” I said, reciting what Hieronymus had told me. “Only the strongest, tested by fire and blood, can rule over the fairies.”

Harvey took one step back, his face paling just a bit, before he straightened his shoulders, walked across the room, and handed me the flowers he brought. “I really am sorry about earlier. I don’t want to fight with you.”

I leaned over and gave him a quick peck on the lips. “I’m sorry, too. What you were asking, for me to explain my relationship with Frost, wasn’t totally unreasonable, I just took it the worst possible way. Still, you need to trust me. I’m going to be working with Frost a lot.”

“I’ll try,” he said. “When can I see you again?”

“Call me tomorrow? I’m sorry to miss dinner, but Hieronymus is not going to be patient enough to allow me to go out even for a quick bite.”

Harvey nodded and left, and Hieronymus and I headed downtown to a gym where no one seemed to notice that we didn’t fight like humans. I was pretty sure the owner was a troll, but he could have been a fighter who’d gotten hit in the face and ears too many times.

Fighting is easy. It’s the getting along and forgiving that’s hard
. –Chloe Frangipani

All these hippies and god-lovers keep talking about forgiveness like it’s a good thing. It’s not good, it’s a weakness. I don’t forgive
. –Althea Frangipani

The call woke me in the middle of the night. “Hello?” I asked, my voice groggy and sleep-filled.

“It’s all clear,” Mary-Beth said. I checked the clock. It was four in the morning, so I’d gotten about three hours of sleep after my training session with Hieronymus.

“He worked late tonight.”

“He was working on something for you,” she said, a hint of disapproval in her tone. “I had to keep making excuses about why
I
was working so late.”

“Thank you. I’ll be right there.” I dressed as quickly as I could, not bothering with make-up or brushing my hair. Then I took a cab I couldn’t afford across town to Frost’s office.

Mary-Beth, the grandmotherly private investigator, let me in with a frown. “I’m too old for this,” she said.

“Oh, Mary-Beth.” I patted her shoulder and gave her a mock-sympathetic look. “The day you’re too old for this is the day you’re dead. But you go ahead home, and I’ll lock up.”

She eyed me for a long moment, like she wasn’t sure she trusted me with her boss’s office. Or maybe it was her own desk she was worried about. Finally, exhaustion won out, and she nodded. “Okay, but I won’t keep your secret if you take it too far.”

“No dog poop, got it,” I said, barely containing my laughter.

Mary-Beth wrinkled her nose and shook her head. “Good night, Chloe.”

“Good night.”

And I set to work.

The next time I was awoken, it was by a loud knocking at my bedroom door. “Chloe,” Frost roared. “I know you’re in there.”

I burrowed down under my covers and plotted how I was going to kill Mercury. Between his “job” and spending time with his daughter, I hardly ever saw him, but he must have just happened to be home to let Frost in. That had to be the worst kind of luck. “I’m not alone, Frost,” I said. “You should probably go and avoid an uncomfortable moment.”

“If I could smell anything over the damn perfume that sprayed out of my desk drawer this morning.” Frost opened my door and walked in. “I’d know if you were lying, but I’ll just have to take my chances.”

I wrapped the blanket around myself and sat up straight in bed, the mischievous look in his eyes making me nervous. “The perfume was me getting you back for the sweaty hug, Frost. If you do anything now, I’ll have to take it as an escalation.”

He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at me. “The perfume
was
the escalation. Do you know how long it’s going to take for me to get the smell out of my clothes and skin? Not to mention my desk. And you just had to choose the most god-awful smelling stuff you could find.”

“I thought it smelled nice.” I got even more nervous as he stalked toward my bed.

“You’re a terrible liar.” His smile ticked up, going a bit wicked. “Did you work everything out with Harvey?”

“Yes.” I tried to sound more confident than I felt. “He apologized for acting jealous, and I apologized for getting so angry at him when he did.”

“You got angry at him? Last night it seemed like you felt bad about being caught with me.”

“Well, it wasn’t the best situation, considering he was already jealous of you, but I was angry, too. He doesn’t have a right to tell me who I can spend time with.”

“Why was he already jealous of me?”

I was so not going to tell Frost about my fight with Harvey at the flea market. I didn’t want to give him any more reasons to be angry at Harvey, and I was more than a little embarrassed about the whole thing. “He was being irrational. It’s not a big deal, and we’ve worked it out.”

“Good,” he said. “But I think we need to put that to the test.” He pulled out a large glass bottle from behind his back.

“What? No. Come on, I only sprayed your—”

But it was too late, Frost had already pushed the button, spritzing my comforter with men’s cologne. I knew it wasn’t his own, because werewolves were notorious for hating artificial scents, but it didn’t matter. I didn’t want my room to smell like cheap men’s cologne.

I vaulted out of the bed and jumped onto Frost’s back as he turned and started for my closet. “Not the clothes you maniacal, furry beast.”

“Well, this is just all kinds of amusing.”

I turned my head to see Mercury in the doorway to my room, leaning against the jamb and watching us with a smirk.

“Get over here and help me, you idiot,” I yelled, clinging to Frost as he tried to peel me off. “The smell is going to start drifting into your room any minute.”

Mercury shrugged. “It’s worth it. Seriously, I’d pay money to see this.”

Frost gave up on trying to get me off his back and marched to the closet like I wasn’t even there.

I wrapped my hands over his eyes, but that didn’t slow him down. “This is the worst prank ever,” I said. “The whole point of a prank is that it’s surprising and you’re not quite sure who did it.”

“Then you failed,” Frost said. “I could smell your scent all over my office before I opened the drawer. And Mary Beth is smart enough to answer when I ask her a question.”

I gasped. “The traitor.”

“She knows where her bread is buttered.” Frost pushed down the button and started spraying blindly as he stepped into my closet. My hands over his eyes meant that as much wall space as clothing got sprayed, but he was thorough in his revenge. I’d have to wash everything I owned. Since most of it was dry-clean only and I was broke, I figured I’d be smelling like an unsophisticated teenage boy for a while.

His job done, Frost walked back, blind, and dumped me on the bed, giving it a few more spritzes for good measure. “At least it doesn’t smell like sex in here anymore,” he said, his nose scrunched in distaste.

“I hate you,” I said through clenched teeth.

“Good.” He looked unruffled and unrepentant, as I lay on my bed in a tank top and shorts with bed head and morning breath. “Then maybe you’ll let me pay for your lawyer.”

“I wouldn’t take a red dime from you, you mouth-breathing, degenerate werewolf.”

“Cent,” Mercury said, still standing in the door.

I sat up and glared at him.

He took a step back, his hands in the air. “Whoa, I was just trying to help you out. It’s red cent, not red dime.”

“Get. Out,” I said.

Mercury didn’t even flinch, damn him. He just smiled and strolled away like my wrath was amusing.

I turned my glare on Frost. “You, too. Get out.”

Instead, he sat down on the edge of my bed, somber and unafraid of me or my glare. “Chloe, what do I have to do to get you to let me pay for your lawyer? You can pay me back when the club re-opens.”

I sighed and gave in, not because I wanted to, but because I had employees who were depending on me getting us all out of this mess. “Fine. I’ll accept your generous offer, but I’m still going to get you back for this.” I gestured to indicate my soiled, stinky room. “And I will pay you back for the lawyer.”

He stood. “I better go before I lose my sense of smell completely.”

“Good. Go. Leave me to die of clogged olfactory…um, stinky cologne overload.”

He looked back at me and smirked. “Good one.”

“Oh, and I’ll let you investigate Neil,” I said. “Just out of the goodness of my heart.”

He sighed and took up Mercury’s vacated spot in the doorway. “It’s like he’s vanished into thin air,” he said. “And I’ve found nothing to connect him to the mayor, but I’ll keep trying.”

“What about my cousin?”

“We’re still looking. I should have something by the end of the day tomorrow, so be ready to go on a road trip.”

“As long as we aren’t going to Rubalia.”

He nodded his agreement.

I spent the day trying to get the smell of cologne out of my duvet and my clothes, but the damn stuff was persistent. I also tried to come up with a way to get Frost back, but so far I was coming up blank. I had a meeting with the lawyer he’d hired for me, and I had to admit the guy seemed to know what he was doing.

I met Vin in the evening at a little sports bar for dinner before we headed back to my place for a lesson in rebellion history, such as it were. The rebels kept better historical records than the rest of the fae, but not by much.

“Your boyfriend’s a dick,” I said over a plate of fried shrimp.

Vin smiled and nodded. “Yes, he does. And he really knows how to use it.”

“Eww,” I said, almost gagging on my shrimp, which would have been a real shame considering how delicious those little suckers are. “No, I said he
is
a dick.”

“Oh,” she said. “Sorry, I just hear the word dick and boyfriend in the same sentence and get a little carried away.”

I could see she was having fun with me and not at all serious. “What are you so happy about?”

“Mercury and I are matched.” She added an uncharacteristic
squee
.

“Wow, it’s a shame you couldn’t be matched to someone who’s not a dick.”

She grinned. “And he is so very good with his—”

“Okay, enough. This calls for a celebration! We should get everyone out with us for some food and booze and –”

“Are you trying to avoid your lesson in rebellion history?” she asked, pushing a lock of long hair behind one of her adorable, tiny little ears.

“No, Vin,” I said, rolling my eyes. “I’m trying to avoid everything. Missing kids, losing my club, the fact your boyfriend’s a dick, all of it needs to be wiped from my mind.”

“Good enough for me. I’ll call everyone.”

And everyone arrived, except Harvey, who had to work. I had drinks with my friends and patted Mercury and Vin on the back, wishing them every kind of misery, as we unromantic types are prone to do. Around ten-thirty, my thoughts turned to Buddy for some reason. Maybe it was because we were in a sports bar, or maybe it was because it had been too long since I’d seen him, but I missed my best friend with a soul deep ache. I wondered how his daughter was, how much she’d grown, and how his club was doing without his wife, Evelyn, to keep his books.