Page 33 of Sweet Poison

Looking around I notice that the plush rug underfoot is patterned with snowflakes of every size, and a lavish garland of pine and holly draped gracefully over the center table, its mantle crowded with an assortment of jingle bells and glowing green candles. The suite’s elegance can’t be missed, with velvet cushions and silk throws scattered about in harmonious disarray. Even the windows are dressed in sheer curtains adorned with frosted designs and Christmas lights.

“Damn…” Uncle Cianne booms from somewhere behind me.

Yup.

Damn.

As I keep looking around the suite, my gaze falls upon a towering Christmas tree in the corner next to a floor-length window. It is at least nine feet tall, its grandeur impossible to miss. Fake snow is dusted over its branches, lending it an air of wintry magic despite the summer setting.

But what really catches my attention is the tree’s decorations. Instead of the typical ornaments most people decorate with, this one is adorned with a delightful collection of mushrooms in Christmas colors and Santa hats. Each mushroom has a tiny hat and a jolly face. Then there are tiny cactuses with smiling faces on them. The colorful ornaments contrast beautifully with the glossy sparkle of the fake snow.

“How…” I wonder aloud. I look at the tree in awe but it is the glowing mushroom terrarium perched atop the fake chimney that truly steals my breath away. I hadn’t noticed it at first, but now it is all I see.

I walk closer to the chimney to take a closer look at the glass dome, encasing a miniature forest of vibrant and luminescent mushrooms. I stare at the soft, almost ethereal light that radiates from within, casting a magical glow that makes the room seem even more enchanting. The cute little mushrooms, with their translucent caps in shades of soft greens and reds, seem to pulse gently as if alive. Tiny ferns and mosses surround them, that add a touch of green and life to the dome. The more I look at it the more it feels as if someone has captured a piece of a fairy tale and brought it to life in this small, glowing terrarium.

Did he do this? It can’t be a coincidence that I’m moved to this suite by his order and it turns out to be something out of every childhood dream and memory I have and that he also shared with me once upon a time.

My heart feels like it might burst out of my chest at the thought that the grumpy man has done all of this for… me.

As I’m lost in thought, I’m brought back when Uncle Cianne strolls over to the suite’s bar, his eyes scanning the extensive collection of bottles just like I watched the terrarium with awe. He stops and his gaze settles on a bottle that makes his eyebrows arch in pleasant surprise. I look as well and there amidst the more ordinary brands, is a bottle ofRémy Martin Black Pearl Louis XIII.

I rarely drink, but my family loves it. Everything I know about it, I’ve learned from them.

With an amused smile, I watch my uncle pick up the bottle with a reverent and almost childlike curiosity. It truly is a stunning design. The rich, dark glass gleams under the dim light. “Now this,” Cianne murmurs, his voice low, “is something special, Willow. The fucker is loaded I see.”

Loaded would be an understatement.

Uncle carefully uncorks the bottle, and the rich aroma of theLouis XIIIfills the air—dried fruit, spices, and a subtle hint of oak. The smell is so intoxicating that my uncle quickly fills a glass and chugs it down. He hisses and smiles wide before settling the glass down with a soft thud. His amused eyes then drift over to me before taking in the rest of the suite. “You know, I knew the kid was successful,” he says, more to himself than to me, “but damn, he’s on another level of rich. Good for the little fucker.” He chuckles, his tone a mix of admiration and disbelief as he keeps taking in the suite’s extravagant decorations and tasteful touches. His appreciative gaze sweeps from the towering Christmas tree to the adorable mushroom terrarium, finally settling back on me with a knowing look. “Huh…”

I frown. “What?”

A smirk appears on his face. “You got him whipped already, Willow girl.”

My frown deepens and I laugh awkwardly. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure, you don’t. You’re just like your mom.” he says it almost reverently.

Before I can reply, my eyes land on a tiny bed tucked away next to one of the smaller trees. The small bed is adorned with miniature linens and looks like it is meant for a child or a very small doll. A soft, amused smile tugs at my lips as I realize this was intentional.

Uncle Cianne’s gaze follows mine, and his frown deepens as he registers the absurdly small bed. The realization seems to dawn on him at the same moment it had on me. He points a finger at the bed. “The motherfucker put me on a bed meant for a fucking dog,” Uncle says in disbelief but there’s no anger in his tone.

I laugh softly, nodding in agreement. “Oh… aside from super rich and famous—he’s kind of a grump, now, too.”

Uncle narrows his eyes at me and tilts his head. “Is that how you kids say asshole?”

I laugh harder now at the absurdity of it all then turn my back on my uncle and as I walk closer to the double doors that lead to the balcony, my eyes fall on a green plushy. It is a stuffed toy shaped like aStropharia aeruginosamushroom. The mushroom's smile is impossibly wide, giving it an endearing, almost cheeky appearance. It looks just like the one on my favorite t-shirt. My heart starts to pound hard as I look at the plushy. I can’t help but be charmed by the gesture. But then I see the small note stuck to the plush mushroom. It is delicately pinned to its side with a tiny, yellow pin.

With a curious smile, I reach out and carefully remove the note, not wanting to ruin the plushy. The handwriting is neat and elegant, a stark contrast to the playful nature of the toy.

I read somewhere that fairies love gifts. They love to give them and they love to receive them. Supposedly their favorites are small shiny objects. I hope this ugly fucker can suffice. - M

I read the note three times making sure what I read was right and I wasn’t imagining this all. The more I read it, the more butterflies make a kaleidoscope in my stomach.

“I think you made quite the impression on the fucker, my girl.” Uncle Cianne’s voice makes me turn around and look at him.

Holding the stuffed mushroom closer to my chest and the note, I beam.

Perhaps the handsome grinch’s heart is still the one I remember.

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