Page 35 of Perfectly Petite Shorts (Perfect Pixie)

With a huffed sigh, I stepped away from the window, wincing at the obvious print my palm left. I took another step away only for someone else to run into me, adding a second palm print. Throwing up my arms, I yelled, “Am I invisible or something?”

This time, the human did turn around. Their slow blink and quirked lips didn’t bode well.

“Sorry.” She didn’t sound very sorry. “I didn’t see you there.

You are rather…small. Are you a pixie?” To my dismay, the woman circled me.

“Where ar e your wings?” She reached out as if she had the right to search my person for nonexistent wings.

I slapped her hand away. “I’m not a fucking pixie.”

Completely unintimidated, the human leaned in, her gaze fixed on my hair. “You’ve got pink hair like some pixies I’ve seen, although it’s much shorter.”

Eyes narrowed and hands fisted on my hips, I stomped my foot like a child. “My hair looks nothing like a pixie’s. First of all, it doesn’t fall to my ass, and second, the darkest part is near my scalp, not at the tips.” Why in Gaia’s name was I arguing with this insignificant bag of flesh?

“Oh. I suppose that’s true.”

She supposed so? There was no supposition about it.

“You’re about the size of a pixie though.” She tapped a well-manicured finger along her jaw.

“I’m inches taller than a pixie.” I pushed my shoulders back and lifted my chin. My claim wasn’t strictly accurate.

The woman wasn’t convinced but eventually shrugged. “Maybe. I guess if you say you’re not a pixie, I’ll simply have to take your word for it.”

Gaia! This human was infuriating. “I’m not a pixie. I’m a—”

“Cindy! There you are. Hurry up or we’ll miss our reservations.” Without a backward glance, the woman who was evidently named Cindy dismissed me and ran off to meet her friend.

“Un-fucking-believable.” I stood there, watching the two humans walk away as if I didn’t exist. Or maybe it was simply that my existence didn’t matter.

An emotional shot of pain slammed into my chest. That thought hit far too close to home.

Ever since Jamila died… I slammed my eyes closed while simultaneously slamming the door on the vision of her smiling face.

The version my mind ha d decided to torment me with this time was a far younger version of the witch who’d changed my life.

Thoughts of Jamila were a double-edged sword. Love and acceptance filled my heart while the ache of loss ripped those soul-soothing emotions away.

Inhaling, I held that breath for a count of seven before exhaling. I repeated the action three more times, willing Jamila’s strength into my core. I’d need every bit of her imagined willpower to get through the next few moments.

“For you, Jamila,” I whispered into the busy street. Just as before, no one paid a bit of attention to me. I was passed by, their busy lives and constant routine blocking out the flustered dryad standing outside a fairy lawyer’s business frontage.

I ’m not sure what I expected, but it wasn’t this.

My eyes tracked the small room. It was, of course, immaculate.

What it also was…was spartan. There was a desk with no receptionist behind it.

I could see a slightly open door deeper into the office space, but it wasn’t open enough for me to glimpse anything inside.

The room was eerily quiet with only the hum of electricity keeping the lights on.

There were no comfortable, patterned chairs to sit in, no percolating coffee station, no potted plants or floral arrangements. There was simply…nothing.

Okay, that wasn’t completely true. There was a bell. It was the kind of thing one expected to find at the deli or post office. Something used to alert the staff there was a customer waiting.

“Seriously?” I asked the empty air. If it weren’t for the small, slender nameplate, Hamish McIntyre, Fairy Lawyer , written across its surface, I would have thought I was in the wrong office.

I raised my hand, finger extended, ready to ring the bell. A flyer suddenly appeared above the bell. My finger hesitated as my eyes read the words filling the page.

Ringing the bell will garner the attention of fairy lawyer, Hamish McIntyre.

Do not ring the bell if that is not your wish.

Once the bell chimes, you cannot rescind the action.

Ringing the bell means that you agree to an open discussion regarding your case and compensation.

Ringing the bell does not guarantee Hamish McIntyre will agree to take your case. Proceed with caution.

I swallowed hard, my hand still hovering, finger shaking. Hamish McIntyre sounded like an ass. Then again, he was a fairy. Pompous asshole could be written as a postscript behind just about every fairy name. Not that I’d met a lot of fairies, but their reputations certainly preceded them.

My eyes squinted, and somehow, I managed to push back my fears.

I had no idea what kind of compensation Hamish would want or if he’d even agree to take my case.

All I knew was that he was supposed to be the best, and that’s what I needed.

It was going to take a lot more than prayers to Gaia to save Jamila’s land.

I needed a lawyer. I needed a fairy. I needed Hamish McIntyre.

I let my finger drop, ringing the bell.

My chest grew tight as I held my breath, eyes slammed closed. I stood there, heart in my throat while I waited. And waited… Still waiting… My eyes slipped open. The room was just as empty as it was before I rang the bell.

Shoulders sagging, I stared around the office. Going up on my tiptoes, I looked over the desk, peeking into every nook and cranny. Fairies weren’t tiny. Hamish shouldn’t be able to hide. He should be very visible.

“Hello?” When there was no answer, I raised my voice and tried again. “Hello? Is there anyone here?” Silence.

Irritation spurred either my bravery or stupidity.

Making my way around the reception desk, I pushed open the door to what I assumed was Hamish’s office.

The room was just as barren as the front office.

A single executive-looking chair sat behind a modest desk with a second padded and patterned chair sitting opposite.

There were no pictures on the deep green walls.

No paintings, portraits, knickknacks, or anything else that might personalize the space.

Hands on hips, I turned, making a circle of the area. Despite ringing the damn bell, Hamish McIntyre wasn’t here. Annoyed, I stomped back to the front desk and the unassuming bell sitting there. This time, I didn’t hesitate as I rang it again, adding a bit more force for good measure.

The loud ring reverberated through the room, its sound increasingly grating. Nothing. Eyes narrowed, I glared at the bell and the flyer above it.

“Is this some kind of sick joke?” Frustrated anger filled me. I’d spent a lot of time working up my nerve to even step through the door, and this jerk of a fairy didn’t even have the decency to answer his own damn summoning.

Growing increasingly pissy, I repeatedly slammed my palm down on the bell. The thing chimed again and again. I didn’t care. I’d beat the thing into submission if I had to. If Hamish McIntyre was listening in, I’d get my own version of revenge by annoying the shit out of him.

I was grinning like a loon when a cool voice said, “I sincerely hope you are quite finished.”

Jerking my hand back like the bell was suddenly on fire, I stared up…and up. My breath caught. I’d seen a few fairies but typically from far away. I’d never heard of one being unattractive, and Hamish McIntyre certainly wouldn’t be the first. In a word, he was stunning.

Deep, jade-green hair fell around his shoulders and presumably to the middle of his back.

His eyes were just as dark, their green depths pulling me in and stealing all my words.

Finely tipped ears kept Hamish’s hair in place while his plush lips were thinned in obvious annoyance.

Slender but not thin, Hamish had the willowy build that was typical of fairies.

I had no idea what his affinity was. I’d heard it had something to do with plants, but that was far too broad to be of much help.

Arms crossed and head tilted to the side, Hamish stared at me as if I was little more than an ant he’d have no trouble squashing. “I find it interesting and more than a little irritating that you have nothing to say after being so persistent garnering my attention.”

I opened my mouth, completely appalled when little more than a squeak was all that I managed.

Hamish dropped his arms while he uttered a very put-upon sigh. “This is obviously a poor attempt at a joke. And might I say, a dangerous one as well. I have no time to put up with such infantile idiocy.”

He raised his arm, finger outstretched. I had no idea if he was about to swat me like the bug he clearly saw me as or if he was about to leave. Either way, I had to stop him.

“Wait! I’m not playing you. I need a lawyer,” I blurted.

Hamish’s arm stilled, dropping back to his side once more. “I find that difficult to believe.”

“Why?” Annoyance pushed away my earlier embarrassment.

His gaze clinically swept up and down my body. “Dryad?”

I nodded. “What has that got to do with anything?”

“Financial gain is meaningless where dryads are concerned.” Hamish’s tone was cool but not cold.

“So? Just because we’re not power-hungry money addicts doesn’t mean I don’t need a lawyer.” I was at a loss where Hamish was going with this.

“True. However, it has been my experience that dryads have no means of financial compensation for my services. Therefore, you cannot afford to hire me.” There was absolutely no judgment in that statement. It was simply fact as far as Hamish was concerned.

His words made me bristle. I absolutely hated how the world worked. Money should have meant nothing, and yet it was everything . I’d thought a fairy might be different, but I was wrong.