Page 25 of Fairy Godmothers Aren't Cheap

Gram-Gram nodded.

“She also wouldn’t have a bill with us, because if you don’t believe, we can’t hear your wishes.” I started to smile. “So somewhere deep down inside she believes, even if she doesn’t want to.”

“Very good.”

“I granted her a small wish to prove my identity like it says in the training, but she still said she didn’t believe me. She said it was kismet. She also said humans don’t believe in what happens during dreams.”

“In regards to her billable wishes notice from Paxi?”

I nodded.

Gram-Gram sighed. “That issue may be on us more than on Char. But her not wanting to believe and pay up is not an original problem. She’s a valuable client—assuming she makes good on her bill. It’s best we don’t cut her off completely, wouldn’t you say?”

She lifted her brows at me and I nodded eagerly.

“We won’t cut her off then. But no more granting of expensive wishes. Only ones that will help prove to her that you are the one making her wishes come true. She needs to be inclined to pay that hefty bill of hers.”

“She said she’s broke.”

Gram-Gram waved a hand. “They all say that.”

CHAPTER7

~ James ~

Ichecked my phone again for a text from Char, barely refraining from sending her another. She was always amped about milkshakes, so why was she ghosting me? Something was definitely wrong.

I popped onto the various apps where we were friends, checking their maps, disappointed to see she was good about her privacy, and hadn’t allowed her current location to be shared. Maybe I could convince her, for safety reasons, that she should always share her location with me.

Yeah, and come off as a stalker.

I’d been playing the long game, understanding instinctively that she could be easily spooked. She was strong, smart, fun and outgoing, but when it came to love, there was a big hurt hiding behind her sunny smile. Who had hurt her? She didn’t talk about her past much, and I wondered if she suffered through a broken engagement, horrible breakup, or been cheated on.

Whatever it was, I vowed to never be a repeat. And so we’d slowly become friends, and I’d let her learn to trust me. Trust was huge for her, something not freely given, and every time she let me in a bit further, I felt like I’d won a massive prize.

But, we were in the friend zone, and I feared that if I made a move that was too fast or direct, I might scare her off. Especially if she didn’t want to move beyond friends. And there were several reasons why she might not want to.

First was smarmy Greg, the museum’s tour guide. He was smooth and flattered Char in a way that often made her blush and run her fingers through her hair. Was she interested or merely flattered? He was always asking Char about her passion—ancient pottery. She gave him interesting tidbits which he then used in his tours, delighting her. I wasn’t the kind of guy who’d knock down another to prove my worthiness to a woman, but Greg sure made me want to.

Second, Char rarely stayed in during the evenings, and always seemed to be on the go. Whereas I didn’t think twice about crashing my parents’ games night with the neighbours. I liked my close-knit family. I also enjoyed adventure, however Char craved it like it was oxygen. Did she see us as too different?

It also didn’t help that she’d never given off the interested vibe until more recently.

But tonight, the way she’d kept touching me, and had that whisper of possible jealousy when she’d asked about my date…

She could be interested. Definitely.

It was time to make a move, but I was nervous. I’d been holding back my attraction for so long, I feared that if she gave even so much as a hint that it was okay, I’d sweep her into my arms and kiss her breathless, confess my love and ask her to move in with me.

A bit much. To say I was way ahead of her was more than an understatement.

Drumming my fingers on the steering wheel, I sat in my car, mindlessly driving, not ready to head home to my lonely basement suite.

I was worried about Char tonight, and wasn’t sure why. She’d seemed nervous and awkward, like something was off kilter in her life and had sent her thoughts elsewhere.

Who did she have looking out for her? Her roommates were busy with their own lives, and it sounded as though her family wasn’t that close. How would anyone know if she was in trouble and needed help? Who would she call? Tamara, for sure. But did she know that I’d also be there, night or day?

My phone vibrated, and I leapt to check the screen at the next red light, the tension draining from my shoulders and neck as I read the message.

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