Page 5

5

Luna

“ D id you really throw a drink at him?” Seraphina asked.

Blond strands flew from her messy ponytail, and her sharp features were made all the more so by the ferocity of her question.

I knew I was in trouble when her hands went to her hips as she waited for me at the back door.

I glanced over my shoulder at the retreating figure.

No surprise he didn’t come back inside after whatever that was.

I winced as I thought about it.

“I don’t remember deciding to throw it at him.” I shrugged.

“I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened.” Honestly, I didn’t.

One minute, the drink had been in my hand, ready to deliver, and the next, the glass was empty.

Most unexpectedly, I’d felt completely calm about it.

Like I’d unlocked some inner peace for the evening.

It didn’t make sense.

I could swear I didn’t flick my wrist to toss it at him.

But the empty glass in my hand had been pretty damning .

Even more so was the drink dripping down his perfectly carved features.

Seraphina waved dismissively.

“Earl said he pulled some fae snobbery about the tavern. I can only imagine you were on edge after talking to Darius.”

In this case, I was lucky that one of my best friends was also my boss.

“He said this place could benefit from some magic.” My skin prickled as I repeated the words.

That eerie calm resurfaced.

“It enraged me after Darius all but said the same about the inn.” That was true, but I still swore my wrist didn’t move.

I didn’t toss the drink at the fae.

“It’s fine. Get back out there. We’re busy, remember?” Things must be alright if she could tease me.

I turned, and she pushed me down the hall.

“Try not to throw any more drinks at handsome fae.”

I glared at her over my shoulder and headed toward the bar, grumbling.

Of course he was handsome.

One glance at him told me the male was pureblood fae through and through, and old fae at that.

His strong jawline and high cheekbones were framed by expertly tousled dark brown hair.

My fingers had itched to run through it before he opened his mouth.

That had ruined the view a bit.

What had happened with his wind, though?

Old fae especially weren’t usually so quick to show their element.

They had magic because they were fae, but it was more of a power symbol than a practical thing.

His wind had swept in twice, and if the shock on his face was any indication, it wasn’t a common occurrence.

I hadn’t lied to him outside, though.

His wind was alright.

It was…

considerate that it dried my feet before I shoved on my boots.

I even thought I had seen that consideration, if a little hesitant, in his deep brown eyes when he asked me about my day.

Odd for an old fae to show any consideration for someone like me when his jacket cost more than my entire wardrobe.

I winced, remembering the stains from the alcohol.

His coat would have been Nora-approved, no mid-carriage ride change necessary for him.

I glanced down at my sweater.

Nora had insisted I return with it— for next time .

The evening had cooled, so I’d kept it, but it felt all wrong.

I rolled my shoulders, trying to get comfortable.

Finally, I gave up, lifting it over my head, and hanging it on a hook.

Maybe the fae’s words offended me because I still felt like one of them.

This sweater made me feel like I was trying to fit in—trying to be something I was perfectly fine not being.

At least, that’s what I told myself.

Darius offering me the position at the inn wasn’t acceptance.

I knew that, but I still found it confusing.

He had never shown outright malice like Byrd.

Darius’s crime was one of apathy, and maybe it still was.

Perhaps this was only a temporary crossing of paths.

Another quiet part of me said that even if he hadn’t seemed invested in the inn’s fate, he had at least offered me the position.

That was something.

I was determined to save it.

When I did, this crossing of paths would be more than temporary.

We’d have to address our relationship at some point.

Although that was not something to look forward to.

If anyone deserved a drink thrown at him, it was Darius.

I silently cursed myself for my lack of control and slipped behind the bar.

Seraphina followed, and I could feel her worried glance.

Upon my return, Evelyn was at the counter with orders before I could fully organize my thoughts, and I was swept back into the buzz of the tavern with little time to think about my father or the handsome fae.

Earl flagged me down to order another.

His wave was more energetic than usual.

“What can I get you?” I asked.

His wife had joined him—a woman with black hair and a generous smile .

“Did you figure out who he was?” Earl asked, leaning forward conspiratorially.

I shook my head.

“Who?”

“The ‘Benefits of Magic’ fae!” Earl squeaked.

His wife touched his elbow, trying to calm him down.

He turned to her.

“You don’t get it, Daisy. Luna might have thrown a drink at him, but she’s his biggest fan.”

I waved him off.

“Just because I read everything he’s ever written doesn’t mean I’m his biggest fan.” Then my mind caught up with his words.

“Wait, what?”

My mouth opened, but nothing came out.

I was speechless for the second time tonight.

I needed to wish things to return to normal for Long Night.

This was getting out of hand.

“That was not the recommendation columnist,” I whined, placing my forearms dramatically on the bar and letting my head hang between them.

“Afraid so,” Earl said.

Seraphina sidled up next to me, gently patting my back.

“Everything alright over here?”

“The fae from earlier,” I said.

“The pretty one with the bad attitude that I allegedly threw a drink at?—”

“Not a lot of wiggle room on the drink, dear. We all saw it,” Earl cut in.

“Whatever.” I waved dismissively.

“He writes the ‘Benefits of Magic’ column.” I lifted my head, meeting Seraphina’s gaze before turning toward the back door.

“I will now throw myself in the moat and die of embarrassment.”

Seraphina snorted.

“Well, at least you’re feeling better if you’re back to dramatics.”

I shot her a glare before turning to Earl.

“How do you know it was him? No one knows who he is—I didn’t even know he was a he.” Then it clicked.

I turned to Daisy.

“Oh, right. You work at the paper, too, don’t you? Sorry, Earl has mentioned that. ”

She nodded, smiling warmly.

“I can’t believe you like his column.”

I tilted my head at her in question.

“It tends to be…very fae,” she said carefully.

“Ah.” Earl must have told her I was half-fae.

“I think that’s the interesting part.” I pointed at my boots.

“He has good recommendations even outside of snobby fae standards. These boots were in the column a few months ago. They’re human-made and amazing for walking around the city.”

Daisy raised a brow.

“I can’t say I’ve read all his stuff, but he doesn’t act like he cares for anything he considers below fae standards.”

I could admit I got that impression, too.

Maybe I read his column all wrong.

Maybe the human recommendations were charity pieces.

His magic had seemed…

different, but that didn’t mean anything!

This was why you should never meet your heroes.

Before I could spiral too far, Seraphina cut in.

“You should ask him to recommend the inn.”

My head snapped to her.

“What?”

Seraphina wiped the counter.

“Even I know ‘The Benefits of Magic’ is huge. He could help you,” she said, her voice low.

“With the inn.”

When I’d returned from Cliff House, Seraphina and I had only chatted briefly, and despite being concerned about Darius’s offer and motives, she hadn’t questioned my decision to accept it.

The beauty of working for my friend was that she knew what the opportunity to save Cliff House meant to me and wouldn’t dream of standing in my way.

I’d still help here when I could.

Leaving her high and dry was the last thing I wanted.

“I know you have your own list of things to do to drive customers to the inn. You’ve been dreaming of running that place as long as I’ve known you.” She probably knew my list as well as I did at this point.

I glanced at the barstools, where, when things were slow like usual, we’d sit and talk about our dreams and goals.

She tracked my glance and must have understood its meaning.

“I wouldn’t be your friend if I didn’t mention that having Cliff House featured in the column would be a huge help. It might be worth swallowing your pride and asking.”

I sucked in a breath.

She was right, and I hadn’t even reached that conclusion yet.

“It’s not about pride,” I said, only half sure of my comment.

“He thinks I hate him and all old fae.” I’d tried to explain.

I couldn’t tell if he’d heard me; he’d looked so…

distracted.

Daisy lifted her drink.

“Don’t worry, he wouldn’t have helped you anyway.” Her voice turned prim, like she was trying to mock his.

“He doesn’t take suggestions for recommendations.”

That did not surprise me.

“What’s his name?” I asked.

Daisy bit her lip like she wasn’t sure she should tell me.

Like she didn’t want to support my madness.

Earl elbowed her, and she sighed.

“Vincent. His name is Vincent Andiveron.”

“You didn’t see him back there with Luna,” Seraphina said as if to make Daisy feel better about sharing.

“He couldn’t keep his eyes off her, even when she jumped in the moat like a lunatic.”

Instead of letting Daisy defend her position, I cut back in.

“You were watching?” I asked, mock-offended.

Jumping in the water was what I did when I needed grounding.

It had been that way since I was a child.

Seraphina shrugged.

“I wanted to make sure everything was alright.” She narrowed her eyes at me.

“You did throw a drink at him.”

I opened my mouth to argue, then gave up.

No one believed me .

“Then I heard you mention Darius,” she said quietly.

“I can’t remember the last time you told anyone about him. Let alone another old fae.”

I stared at her.

Her words had been intentional.

In the strictest sense of the word, I was old fae, too, even if everything about me rebelled from the label.

“Low blow,” I said.

Her lip twitched.

“You needed to hear it.”

Earl and Daisy pretended to sip their drinks while Seraphina shook out all my dirty laundry.

“I wasn’t sure where all of that was heading.” She gestured wildly.

“You know what they say about love and loathing. Someone needed to keep an eye on you until you both decided if you’d end up fighting or fuc?—”

Earl snorted before Seraphina finished her tirade, giving up any pretense that he and Daisy weren’t listening.

My cheeks heated.

We might have had a moment there at the end, but we were nowhere near that .

“I don’t know if I would have bet on that,” Daisy hedged.

“He’s quite reserved at work.”

Seraphina laughed.

“Luna had him wrapped around her finger.”

Her defense of my supposed charms was priceless, even as Daisy extolled the fae’s stuffy nature.

I no longer listened to them, wondering what to do with the information that our rude customer was the city’s taste-maker and possibly the solution to my problem.

Vincent Andiveron might not take suggestions for his column, but I only had six weeks to fill the inn.

Cliff House wasn’t miraculously going to end up with guests, no matter how many people came to the city for solstice festivities.

I’d been clear—full occupancy.

I needed every room spoken for.

Seraphina was right.

I did have a list of ideas to implement.

Being the manager was all I had wanted since I’d moved to the city.

The property felt like home, and I wanted others to experience the same thing I did.

I couldn’t let this opportunity slip away.

At least eight out of ten recommendations in his column ended up as hits.

The less successful ones were the human ones, like my boots.

But, as Seraphina had harshly reminded me, I was as much old fae as I was human.

Maybe I could lean into my old fae side for an article.

I might not have magic, but the typical old fae never showed theirs off anyway.

My gaze strayed to the hook with the sweater Nora had given me.

My skin prickled at the idea of putting it back on, but I steeled my resolve.

I couldn’t ignore a lead on that kind of publicity.

I’d do whatever was necessary, regardless of Vincent’s recommendation policies or what he thought of me.

Cliff House Inn was too important.