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Ugh.

Look – I’m not one to stereotype, but if I was, I would say this is quite typical Fae behaviour. They’re awfully tempestuous.

A small frown appears between Delilah’s perfectly manicured brows, there and gone in a beat.

‘I said…’ She leans forward, a wicked smile pulling at her lips that does not look friendly at all. Stars, are all the people in this fricken town stunningly beautiful? ‘Not. Hiring.’

‘Please. Please. I will do just about anything.’ I watch her watch me from the corner of her eye and smirk with a level of deviousness that sets off immediate alarm bells. I clarify, ‘Almost anything.’

She loses interest again and sits back into her seat as the paper continues to fly and shelves continue to shake. Shmuck.

‘Please! I can not be without a job. I just can’t. I’ve been walking these freaking streets ALL. DAY. LONG. It’s hot and I’m sweaty and tired and gross. Hot Face at the corner store said to try here and just… Please. I just really, really, need a win.’ I’m not sure that I can prostrate myself any lower. ‘Please,’ I add, just for good measure.

Her feline eyes feel like they’re dissecting me from every angle. Delilah tilts her head and puckers her lips as she considers me.

I open my mouth to further grovel and beg.

‘Fine!’ she snaps before I have the chance. ‘You’re lucky you caught me in high spirits.’

Yeah, I’m sure. Real high.

She pins me with a glare. Did I say that out loud?

A cruel smirk twists her lips, and I get the distinct impression I’m going to regret begging for a job here.

‘I have the perfect job in mind.’

Chapter Seven

App

Outside my little spot of gothic architecture, Lavender and I once more watch the sun set.

‘We should really celebrate,’ she says, sipping her spiked hot chocolate. It would appear the coffee machine is out of action. Bummer. I’m a gremlin without coffee.

‘I don’t think my newly appointed role as “local library toilet scrubber” is really cause for celebration.’

‘Rubbish!’ Lavender shouts. ‘If I had my way, I’d celebrate anything and everything.’

I snort. ‘You’re just all hopped up on bee-juice and dryad affections.’

‘I am not!’ She smacks the back of my arm.

She is.

‘Okay, I am,’ she concedes with an ill-repentant smile. ‘You know, you could be too.’

I roll my eyes.

‘I’m serious – you should really give Door another try. What have you got to lose? Besides, it doesn’t have to be anything serious. It can just be a…’ She waves her branch before her like she might pluck the words from the air. ‘A pleasurable time-waster!’ she finishes with a flourish.

This. This – has my attention.

Because yeah, I got the job. But you know what I didn’t get? Enough hours to promise I’m preoccupied enough to not start slipping back into memories of ye ol’ good days. Days when I meant something to someone. Days when I wasn’t just going through the motions of surviving, but actually living. Days filled with the most incredibly bleak circumstances with the most incredibly beautiful and funny friend…

Shit. See! I’m already doing it.

The memory and accompanying sting of Tilly’s friendship and ultimate rejection are never far from my mind, and it’s the precise reason why I keep myself so busy.