Jennifer Crusie: The Unfortunate Miss Fortunes

‘There are gonna be big changes,’ Maxine said, looking off into the distance at her magnificent future.

‘Maxine!’ Xan snapped, and Maxine jerked to attention. ‘What are you going to do for the next three days?’

‘I’m gonna watch the Fortune sisters and not make any big changes because I’m clandestine,’ Maxine said.

‘And?’

‘And I’m gonna keep an eye on the three men who come for them.’

‘And?’

‘And I’m gonna tell you everything.’ Xan settled back into her wing chair again. ‘Good, Maxine.’

‘And then I’m gonna sell Martinis at the Greasy Fork.’

‘ Maxine!’

‘But not until Monday,’ Maxine said hurriedly.

When hunting season comes, Xan thought. I’m going to turn you into a rabbit. ‘Good, Maxine. You may go.’

Maxine looked around the room. ‘How do I-’

Xan waved her hand and Maxine vanished, only to reappear in the see glass, looking dizzy and slightly nauseated behind the Greasy Fork’s Dumpster.

I know how you feel, Xan thought. The whole town makes me feel that way.

Then she turned her attention back to the Fortune house, her heart beating a little faster now that her plan was in motion. She’d cast one spell and brought the sisters’ True Loves to Salem’s Fork, then cast another and the sisters had seen their True Desires. Now Danny James had met Dee and Dee was on her way after him. Lizzie was about to turn around and meet somebody amazing. And Mare-

‘Xantippe?’

Xan sat bolt upright as Maxine stood before her. ‘How the hell did you get back here?’

Maxine blinked. ‘The portal by the Dumpster was still open.’

Xan closed her eyes. If someone breathes in the natural psychic energy of a supernatural center like Salem’s Fork her entire life, Xan told herself, even if she’s a dolt like Maxine, she’ll pick up some basic skills. ‘Yes?’

‘Danny James just checked into the Lighthorse Harry Lee Bed and Breakfast Inn.’

Xan nodded. ‘Thank you.’

Maxine nodded back. ‘About the Martinis, I-’

‘Maxine, do you have any idea how powerful I am?’

‘No, Xantippe.’

Xan waved her hand and Maxine became a mouse, frozen in terror on the floor, the only part of her left that resembled Maxine her tiny horrified beady black eyes. Xan waited a beat and then waved her hand and Maxine stood before her again, shaking so hard, her head bobbed.

‘Never forget, Maxine,’ Xan said gently, ‘that I turned you back by choice. The next time, I may leave you turned. And you might not be a mouse.’

Maxine sucked in a terrified breath.

‘But of course, I won’t,’ Xan said. ‘I need you, Maxine. You’re my friend.’ She smiled into Maxine’s eyes, radiating hypnotic goodwill, and after a moment, Maxine relaxed.

‘Good one,’ Maxine said, still a little rocky.

‘Go watch the girls.’ Xan waved her hand and Maxine disappeared, only to reappear in the see glass, next to the Dumpster again, stumbling as she landed. ‘Next time, it’s in the Dumpster, Maxine,’ Xan said to the glass, closed the portal, and sat back, catching sight of the sisters in another angle of the see glass: Dee flying away in the shape of an owl, and Lizzie and Mare in the doorway, talking.

Xan leaned closer to the glass and whispered, ‘It’ll be a fair trade, darlings, those spells were true,’ and Lizzie looked up, startled, and said something to Mare, who looked stolid as ever, shaking her head and then pounding off down the pavement like the draft horse her nickname said she was. They didn’t know it, but they were lucky to have Xan looking out for them, taking care of them, making them the deal of their lifetimes. It wasn’t going to hurt, it truly wasn’t, and they’d be better off in the end. She wouldn’t miscalculate, nothing would go wrong this time, and if it did, it would hardly be her fault. No, they were very lucky. Especially Lizzie, Xan thought, feeling a pang of jealousy as Lizzie turned to go inside.

Especially Lizzie…

If this had been any other morning, Dee would have been delighted to be flying off from the house. Her favorite times had been spent as a bird. She loved flight: the sudden lift, the ruffle of air through her feathers, the illusion of freedom. She adored the patterns and colors the earth revealed from this indifferent height. But mostly, she liked being alone, responsible for nothing, failing no one, just focused on the scene around her and how it would translate onto the canvas that waited her back in her studio.

Not today. Today, she had to waste her precious time trailing Danny James.

He was trouble, she just knew it. And not just because he exuded enough pheromones to melt a girl into a coma. Dee couldn’t believe that neither Mare nor Lizzie had reacted to him. She still felt as if she’d been gigged like a frog.

He was trouble because he knew who they were. Because he wanted to know more. Because, damn it, she couldn’t be sure he hadn’t come from Xan.

Ah, there he was. On a motorcycle, of course, hot enough to make Mare notice as he rolled past. But then, who wouldn’t notice Danny James? Heck, every woman he passed turned for a second look. Some a third. Of course, it wasn’t often that strangers made the turn into the blind valley that cradled Salem’s Fork. Maybe it was just curiosity.

Uh-huh. And maybe the next time Dee tried to have sex she’d stay her own shape.

She watched closely, hoping against hope he’d betray himself quickly so she could waste a bit of time skimming the warm air currents before heading into work. He didn’t oblige. He rode straight through Salem’s Fork toward the river. He didn’t stop to talk to anyone or pass incriminating notes. He did seem compelled to wave and smile to every person he passed. And everyone seemed equally compelled to smile and wave back. Oh, he was real trouble.

He made her suddenly yearn for things she couldn’t have, him and that happy smile and that damned motorcycle of his. He probably felt as if he were flying down there on his bike. She bet he felt free.

‘Mrs Washington!’ he called as he pulled the bike to a stop in the driveway of Lighthorse Harry Lee, a lurid pink and chartreuse Queen Anne monstrosity that sat a block from the town square. ‘I was hoping I could ask a favor from you.’

He’d caught little Verna Washington at her biweekly hedge pruning. She was in overalls and a floppy straw hat, a living lawn ornament. Like every other female in this benighted town, she smiled, almost impaling herself on her pruning shears when she tried to pat down her tightly permed gray hair. ‘Why, of course, honey,’ she caroled. ‘Didn’t you see the girls, then?’

‘I did. Thank you.’

And here Dee had thought Verna was a friend. Dee alighted in the willow that grew at the northwest corner of the house to see Danny lope up the sidewalk, another of those bright smiles crinkling his eyes.

‘Would you mind if I checked into my room a bit early?’ he asked Verna. ‘Since I have to wait to interview my subjects, I was hoping I could catch a shower and make some calls.’

‘Don’t be silly,’ Verna trilled, sounding just like Dee in her mating-owl mode. ‘You go right on up. I had Mel take your bag up to 3B. It’s the Lighthorse Suite, Mr James. We call it that because Lighthorse Harry Lee himself came through town on his way to the Revolution and left behind a boot. See the planter on the porch? It’s an exact replica.’

Verna pointed to the boot, now sporting pink begonias, but Dee was fixated on her good luck. The Lighthorse Suite was situated no more than ten feet from where she sat. She felt like a good smile herself. The window was open. Could be a good chance to see what secrets Danny James might reveal.