Uh-oh. I had a feeling we just became enemies. Oh well. Every girl needed a harmonious balance of good and evil in her life. Otherwise, we'd take everything for granted. And if she thought she was going to wrest Reyes away from my hot little hands, the game was most definitely on. I couldn't fight a ghost, a lost love that haunted Reyes night and day, but I could fight a redhead who cared more about her hair than the environment, four-inch advantage or not.
Speaking of brave, I tried Erin next. We had yet to speak after the picture debacle, but she'd rocked that whole man-waving-a-gun thing. I thought she was going to tackle him for a minute. We might not have been on speaking terms, but nothing brought people together like tragedy.
I walked up to her, a timid smile on my face.
"Don't even," she said before I uttered a syllable. She turned and walked away with a roll of her eyes.
I let a sigh slip through my lips. Maybe it was two tragedies.
I wondered how Lewis was holding up and found him in the storeroom, sitting on the cot, with a furious Shayla-fairy tending to his swollen elbow. He'd landed on it when he fell.
"I hope your arm falls off," she said, her feisty side surfacing under all the pressure.
The look that Lewis gave her had me believe that all things were possible. He was smitten in the worst way. I stood befuddled. It took something like this for him to see her? Who'd've thunk?
I could only hope he wasn't too late. She seemed pretty pissed.
Tears filled her crystalline blue eyes, eyes so light they almost looked clear. Add to that a tiny freckled nose and bow-tie mouth, and you had one gorgeous fairy. She was about two feet shorter than he was, but that would make their coupledom all the cuter. I saw good things coming from this.
"You want my arm to fall off?" he asked, wincing when she slapped on an ice pack.
Or not.
"Why? I won't be able to play anymore. Something Like a Dude needs me."
She turned and walked away from him, a bright spark of anger lighting the room. For me, anyway.
When she walked back to him, she hit his arm with a doll-like fist.
"Ouch," he said, rubbing the spot though it couldn't have hurt that bad. While he was confused, he was also hopelessly intrigued.
She hit him again. Then again, her punches barely making contact. It was all for show, an outlet to filter her anger. Her feelings of helplessness.
He held up a hand to stop her and said in his own defense, "I could've died today."
It was the wrong thing to say. Tears slid past their gilded lash cage and over her freckled cheeks. She slapped his hand away and hit him again, her frustration palpable.
In a movement that surprised even himself, he bolted up and pulled her roughly into his arms. She fought him at first, then buried her face in his chest and hugged him to her. Her shoulders shook softly, and he kissed the top of her head.
I stepped away, unwilling to taint this beautiful moment with fist pumps and whoops of success no matter how badly I wanted to celebrate that small victory. I'd take it. Victories were good no matter how small.
Dixie had really put Reyes to work. He was busy rearranging her office, the hussy, and I worried about his wound. About his darkness. And about the kiss I'd given him. Was he really frozen in time like everyone else? Was it all just an act? I would die if it was. I'd crawl under the table and wither away. I'd professed my love. Said I'd loved him for a thousand years. How amazingly lame was that?
I totally needed a girl's day. Cookie would understand. She was psychic, after all. Surely I could tell her about my … gifts. Surely she could help advise me on what to do with Mr. V. With his family. With Reyes.
I mean, I knew what I wanted to do with Reyes, but maybe she would know what he was.
Please don't be evil. Please don't be evil. Please don't be evil.
Thankfully, the cops hadn't taken my tip money as evidence. I took out my day's earnings to see how much I could spend and how much I needed to set back – that phone wasn't going to buy itself – and found the hundred nestled among the smaller bills. I fished it out, planning to break it, but realized it had writing on the other side. Someone had written across it in pencil, so light I could barely read it, so I raised it to the sun streaming in the window again.
There, written in French, were the words Je t'ai aimée pendant mille et un. – R.
I stilled. Read it again. And again. Je t'ai aimée pendant mille et un. – R.
I've loved you for a thousand and one. – R.
I spun around, rushed back to Dixie's office, but he was gone.
12