Page 54 of Beyond the Cottage (After the Fairytale #1)

Chapter 54

A nsel shoved into the anteroom, blew past the senator’s secretary, and hauled open the office door.

“Excuse me!” Henry cried. “He’s in an appointment!”

Ansel strode into the office. A silver-haired man with leathery wings sat on the sofa, and when he saw Ansel, his eyes widened behind his spectacles.

The senator sighed.

“I need to speak with you,” Ansel said. “It’s urgent.”

Senator Grey’s uncanny eyes took Ansel in. After a long pause, he said, “Mr. Gillick, would you please excuse us? My undomesticated associate has urgent business.”

The winged man collected his papers and scurried from the office. Ansel approached the desk.

“What is it, Mr. Wallenfang?”

“I’m terminating our agreement. I’ll return the money that hasn’t been spent and sign over my assets. But as of today, we are no longer affiliated.”

The senator folded his wooden hands on the desk. “May I ask why?”

“No.”

The senator’s back/face creaked as he leaned forward. “Do you believe it’s as simple as tearing up a contract?”

“You’re going to create a new one. Everything I already put in Gretta and Seven’s names will remain theirs. Gretta also keeps her position. In exchange, I’ll sign over my stake in the company and all rights to the patent. You’ll come out of this more than ahead.”

“That would be financially irresponsible on your part.”

“If you don’t like it, you’re free to sue me. You’ll win, but I’ll keep you tied up in court for years. I’ll also submit the repellent’s formula to every scientific journal I can think of.”

A clock ticked. Henry coughed on the other side of the door.

“Do we have an agreement?” Ansel asked.

“Sit down.”

“I’d rather stand.”

“ Sit. ”

Ansel ground his teeth. He lowered to the sofa, perching on the edge.

The senator drummed his fingers in his most obnoxious affect. “Why are you doing this? The patent alone will be worth more than my investment.”

“My reasons don’t matter.”

“Are they personal?”

Ansel clenched and unclenched his hand. If the senator knew this was about Gretta, he’d likely dig his heels in, since the bastard seemed determined to keep them apart. But if she one day put Ansel out of his misery and agreed to a true relationship, there would be no hiding it.

The man had probably deduced it, anyway.

“They’re personal.”

“Gretta?”

“Yes.”

The senator kept drumming then stopped. “I’m not easily surprised, but you’ve managed to astound me. I accept your terms.” He picked up a small pen and began jotting in a ledger.

“So, ah…is that it?”

“Yes.” When Ansel didn’t move, the senator looked up. “You’re dismissed.”

Ansel left the office in a daze. He’d just lost a fortune, but he felt lighter than he had in his life.

Wrapped in her favorite ratty cardigan, Gretta tracked circles around her coffee table. She looped through the kitchen, to her bedroom, then retraced her steps.

The path was clear. She’d been too nervous to sit when she got home, so she’d reshelved her books and hung her clothes. Now all she could do was pace.

She checked her pocket watch for the hundredth time. Wherever Ansel had gone, he was probably doing something rash. She had a pretty good idea what.

Were they really going through with this, then? Would she let him pour lamp oil on his future and light the match for him?

Nibbling the tip of her thumb, she started the loop over.

A knock came. She flew to the door and yanked it open to find Ansel on the other side. His eyes were harried, and his newly-cut hair looked like he’d been shoving his hands through it. When he caught his breath, he smiled.

“What did you do?” she asked.

“I gave it back. Well, most of it.”

He didn’t need to tell her what it was.

“The repellent will still be manufactured,” he said. “You’re keeping your job. And this.” He handed her a thick envelope.

She held it at her side, hardly glancing at it. “Ansel, I don’t know if I can let you—”

He cut her off with a kiss. “It’s done.” He sobered, but traces of his smile remained. “I realize this is sudden, so I don’t want you to make any decisions today. But if you’re ever ready, come find me. I don’t care if it takes a month, a year, a decade. I’ll be waiting.”

“Hang on.”

He kissed her again and walked away.

“Ansel!” She stumbled barefoot from her apartment. He was already jogging down the creaky stairs.

Forcing her breath to slow, she went back inside. He wasn’t really leaving. She ought to take some time to absorb whatever the hell was happening.

Hugging the cardigan closer, she sat on the couch and ripped into the envelope. It contained two sheets of paper and a key. She pocketed the key and unfolded the papers.

One had ink scrollwork and calligraphy with an embossed seal at the bottom. It was the deed to a house—with an address in Verdant Gardens. The lighter paper was a bill of sale in her name, fully paid, and dated a week prior.

Gretta stared back and forth between them. “That little shit. ”

The house was ridiculously expensive. She knew the location, and it had no modest cottages or bungalows. And he’d bought it for her. To live in. With him?

Gretta carefully folded the documents and returned them to the envelope. Heart pounding harder than before, she looked around the shabby apartment that had protected her for years.

She’d wanted more than friendship from him. She’d even been open to a relationship of some kind. But living together? Marriage ? He’d definitely said marriage.

Was she ready for any of this? Was he? They’d both been alone so long…maybe they were rushing things?

Hell, maybe it was a flat-out mistake. They were still two deeply fucked up individuals, after all. What if they were a disaster together?

Gretta rushed to the kitchen. She yanked a bottle from the cabinet and poured herself three fingers of brandy. She swirled the amber liquid, releasing its scent, when Ansel’s words came back to her.

You use alcohol to cope with stressful situations.

Yeah, so what if she did? It calmed her. And she had cut back. It wasn’t that big of a deal if she occasionally let booze smooth out life’s rough edges.

She brought the glass to her lips.

And hesitated.

She set the glass on the counter.

He was always telling her how brave she was. He’d said the cottage made her resilient and independent. But it wasn’t really true.

Booze and killing witches…they were distractions from the past, bandages on a severed limb. And independence was the place she hid.

Did she want to rely on alcohol when things got hard? Did she want to be alone forever? To be without him ? She and Ansel may be fucked up, but what if they were better being fucked up together?

She couldn’t keep pretending she didn’t know what this meant.

She loved Ansel. More than she had in the cottage, more than she thought she was capable of loving anyone . It scared her, but she wanted to be as brave as he said she was.

She dumped the brandy down the drain.

Because fuck it. Instead of running, she’d try this time.

Half in a fog, she dug out her notepad and began scrawling. If they were going to do this, she had things to do first.

Gretta slipped the letter in her pocket and rushed from her building. She flew to the capitol in record time. When she pushed into Nat’s office, Henry yelled profanities at her back, and she slammed the door on them.

“Goddammit,” Nat said. “Do I need to start locking my door?”

She marched to his desk. “You aren’t taking Ansel’s money, and you sure as hell don’t get a say in our relationship. Whatever little agreement you two reached today is void. Otherwise, I’ll make sure the voting public finds out what an asshole you are.” The city had plenty of newspapers who’d love to hear all about the straight-laced senator’s past exploits.

“Fucking hell, Gretta. I’m not taking the money back.”

She paused. “You’re not?”

“No. Much as I’d love to see him penniless and on the streets, I’m more concerned about your interests.”

Wrath deflated, Gretta dropped to the sofa. “Okay… Why did you insist on those ridiculous, probably illegal stipulations, then?”

“As I told you, I was looking out for you. I feared you were on some kind of self-destructive bender, and taking up with the dust thief seemed to illustrate the fact. The way you’ve handled your new responsibilities has mitigated my fears.”

Gretta frowned. Someone really needed to intervene on his unchecked god complex. She wanted to rail at him herself, but she was in too good a mood.

Besides, what would be the point? Nat would always be Nat.

“What about Ansel? Would you have kept him from me if he didn’t give back the money?”

“Absolutely.”

She sighed. “So it really was just a test?”

“As well as a legitimate investment. Believe it or not, I still care about fighting witches.”

“…And he passed?”

Nat’s expression grew dour. “I maintain you have atrocious taste in men, but I can hardly deny his devotion to you. Therefore, so be it.”

Gretta gave him a bewildered smile. She felt like a lead cloak had been lifted from her shoulders. Nat’s games still pissed her off, but she supposed his intentions had been approximately good. Now that she and Ansel were free, she could allow that Nat had behaved more like a meddling big brother than a true tyrant.

“Will there be anything else?” he asked. “I have work to do.”

Gretta hopped off the sofa and kissed his wooden cheek, ignoring the magic radiating off him. “Thanks, Senator. You’re slightly less of an asshole than I thought.”

He shooed her away and returned to his paperwork.