Not My Fantasy Read online

  “Oh, fuck . . .” I muttered under my breath when I saw who it was. “Jez!”

  Two guys walked into the store. One was long and lean, wearing a threadbare singlet that revealed his many tattoos, and baggy black pants. The other? He looked just like the guy in the magazine moments ago. Muscular legs were encased in well broken in denim jeans. Check. Worn cotton t-shirt with a motorcycle logo on it. Check. Sleeves rolled up over bulging biceps that were covered in tattoos. Check. Sure enough, when I looked at his face, he sported a tawny-coloured three-day growth and long blond hair that looked like it had been raked back with his fingers.

  “What’s the problem?” Jez asked with a frown, her eyes flicking from me to the man and back again, clearly not seeing what the issue was.

  I watched him look around the store, probably looking for me. “I was just fantasising about a guy that looked exactly like him one moment ago, and the next he appears. What the hell is going on with my grandmother’s spell?”

  “That guy? No, that’s not the spell, that’s–” Jez said.

  “It has to be, how else could you explain the coincidence? I didn’t think we could have more than one spell-generated suitor a day? It’s OK, I’ll get rid of him.”

  “Ash, that’s not–”

  I marched straight up to Tall, Blond and Sexy and looked him square in the eye. “Well, I have to admit, as curses go, this is much better. You're big, tall and look like you’re made of pure muscle." Both guys’ eyes widened as I reached out and rubbed my hand along the bicep of the blond one. Man, he was solid. He had those thick, corded arms that comes from working hard for a living. "Jez, you gotta have a feel of this!" I said, but she just made a strangled sound. I moved in close, breathing in deeply as my nose trailed along his chest, drawing in the scent of sandalwood and motor oil. "So, do we have the obligatory six-pack?" I asked, lifting up the hem of his shirt. His waist was tight, a vein snaking up from his waistband and over one hip bone. His muscle flexed as I traced it with a finger. "Ah, there it is. Mm-hmm, Nana, I may have called you every name under the sun for this damn curse, but this, this was worth waiting for."

  "You seen enough, love?" the guy asked, his voice a low rumble. “Or you want to see the whole package?” He wore a slight smile, his steel-grey eyes growing hooded as he placed a hand over mine on his hip and started to push it lower. Could I take a look at a fictional character’s dick? Check him out like a horse standing for auction? For a minute, I was tempted. I’d never thought about it before, but there was one positive about being plagued by fictional characters, and that was the lack of consequences to my actions. This guy was like an R-rated playground, all for me.

  “Ash!” Jez hissed, trying to get my attention with a frenzied wave.

  “What!”

  “This is Gabriel Browning, the guy I was talking to you about. The one who might want to rent part of the shop?”

  Oh fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuckity-fucking, fuck, fuck. Not a fictional character, a prospective tenant. My eyes swung automatically back to Gabriel. I snatched my hand away, wiping it on my jeans, then reaching over to tug down his shirt when it stayed rucked up, before taking two involuntary steps back. His grin widened, and he began to laugh, low and dirty. Gabriel was the kind of guy I was very comfortable looking at, across a crowded room or in a shiny magazine, but not one I felt comfortable talking to. Definitely not one I was OK with molesting the moment he walked in the door. Adrenalin smashed through my body, my heart stuttering, floundering before beginning to pound rapidly. I tried to smile, apologise, do something to try and make up for essentially sexually harassing a stranger in my shop, but my mouth was dry as a desert. I swallowed and then slowly held out my hand as it shook like a leaf. “I’m am so, so sorry. I thought . . . I don't know what I thought. It's been a really shitty morning, though that's no excuse. I shouldn't have. . . . Look, I’m Ash McKinnon.”

  “Gabe,” the guy said with a wide smirk, "this is Flea. You sure know how to make a guy feel welcome," he said, taking my hand and squeezing it.

  “My lady, are you quite well? Is this man bothering you?” Harold appeared at my arm, reaching out to wrap his arms around my shoulders, but I sidestepped him neatly.

  “Not at all. This is business.”

  “Are you quite sure?” he eyed the big burly guy suspiciously.

  “Yes. Jez! Take His Majesty and give him some more tea.”

  “On it, boss.”

  “So, is this some kind of cosplay shop? Who are you supposed to be then?” the other guy asked, looking over at the prince, then back at me, eyes spending a particularly long time lingering at the V of my shirt. “Snow White?”

  “Uh . . . yeah. It’s a gimmick we sometimes use, to get more people in the door. This is a magic shop, and there’s nothing more magical than fairy tales, right?” Both men just looked at me steadily, no reaction. “Anyway, the space for rent is just through here.”

  Never had I been so relieved to turn my back on someone. After my stunning introduction, I needed to salvage this meeting desperately. I forced myself to walk at a reasonable pace through the shop to the open doorway that led to the book stock. Set up much like a library, every kind of occult book under the sun could be found lining the walls. The issue was no one was looking anymore. I didn’t know what had happened. Tess had done an analysis of the business. The Magicorium had been doing a pretty brisk turnover right up until our Nan’s death, then it just died when she did. We had enough to keep things going for another month and that was it, so I’d decided the library had to go. We could keep the books or sell them off on eBay, but having rental income coming in could be enough to tide us over, for a little while anyway.

  “The bookcases will all be removed, but as you can see, there’s plenty of room. Big windows to let in lots of natural light at the front.”

  “Could we install a separate door in the storefront?” Gabriel, or rather Gabe asked, inspecting the shop front.

  “Sure! I intended to put a door in here as well, key lockable, so you won’t even have to come next door at all.”

  His eyes flicked to the doorway and then back to the walls, “Don’t need that. Plenty of women come in wanting unicorns and fairies tattooed on their butts. Your business is not a bad fit for ours, could get some cross traffic going on.”

  “Yeah?” I tried not to sound too enthusiastic and failed. Anything that could bring in more business.

  “Whaddya reckon, Flea?” Gabe asked the other guy. He bobbed his head, as he looked around. It was like he could see what the shop would look like already.

  “I’m cool with it. Better than the other dump I’ve been working at.”

  “Looks like you got yourself a deal,” Gabe said, holding his hand out. I shook it quickly and then jammed my hands in my pockets once I’d let his fingers go. I could never touch this guy again and it would be too soon. He smiled at this but turned back to the walls. “We’ll get the designer to mock up the refit and run it past you. That sound cool?”

  “Ah, sure, there’s no rush. I’ve got to get some friends in to help remove the bookcases and work out what to do with them.”

  “You sell them, you’ll end up with a nice chunk of money. Look like oak. Solid, well made. We really need to get a jump on the refit. No shop, no money. How about we take the bookcases out for you, sell them and split the proceeds.”

  “Really? You’d do that? Wow, that’d be awesome.” Right now I didn’t care if he used the bookcases for kindling. They’d been in the family for a while, but I needed to make amends for my actions and if splitting the sales of some furniture helped him look past me getting handsy, we could take that hit.

  “No problems. Your people will be able to handle the books?”

  “Of course. I’ll get everyone on to it today.”

  “So, love, now we’ve got that out of the way, you interested in a celebratory drink?” Gabe asked, fixing me with a steady look.

  “It’s only nine, so no, but thank you.”

>   “Happy to make it a coffee? Tea? Whatever takes your fancy?” His eyes raked down my body as he said the word fancy, long and slow.

  “No, I couldn’t. Gotta move those books, right?” I was pretty sure he was just wringing this last bit of malicious pleasure from my epic screw up. “Look about before, I’m so sorry.”

  “Don’t be,” he said, “Best start to a business meeting I’ve ever had. Well, if you’re sure?” I wasn’t, I really wasn’t. I was tempted, seriously, to get the girls to haul the books while I sat and made goo-goo eyes at this hunk of man flesh, but I knew I couldn’t. “Flea and I will be by tomorrow morning at opening time with the truck,” he said before turning to leave.

  3

  I followed them out, only able to let out the great sigh of breath when the door closed behind them. I sank into the closest armchair and scrubbed at my face. “Oh, my God. Oh, my God! Omigod, omigod, omigod!”

  “Ash, it’s OK,” Tess said, bringing me a cup of tea.

  “It’s not! I touched . . . then I–” I wailed.

  “Damn straight, you did! He’s that friend of Jersey’s I mentioned. Goddess above, girl, a moment later, and I thought you were going to whip out his cock,” Jez said. “Not that I’m complaining, because that was one gorgeous lump. Did he feel as good as he looked?”

  “Just shut up, please,” I said. I buried my head in my hands, taking a couple of deep breaths. "Let’s leave my spectacular lapse in judgement and get our minds on the business. We have to get all the books out of the library, clean it up and find some damned customers."

  "What about the prince?" Tess asked.

  "He can help."

  It took a bit of explaining. I think the prince was having difficulties getting his head around the fact he wasn't being asked for gallant shows of bravery, but rather plain old manual labour.

  "Well, he's strong," Jez said, watching him walk away with a massive pile of books.

  "Getting them into the back room isn't the issue," Tess said. "We're running out of space."

  Sure enough, Tess was right. "Is this to your liking, madam?" Harold asked.

  "Lovely, thank you. You can grab the augury shelf next if you like."

  "Of course, ever at your service."

  The books lined every available shelf in the storeroom were stacked in piles on the floor, on cupboards, table tops . . . I scratched my head, looking around for somewhere else to put the damn things. “Hey, Jez, what’s the deal with these cupboards along the walls? Could we put some in there?”

  “Not sure. Your Nan looked after inventory. There was a lot of stuff that was iffy to deal with, so she didn’t exactly encourage anyone else messing with it. I think she had a system all of her own for so long, she couldn’t be bothered to teach anyone else.”

  I went over to the closest, tugging on the handle and found it locked. I grabbed the big ring of keys that hung on a hook by the doorway and tried a couple before I got it open. “Whew!” All three of us girls stepped back from the cloud of smelly dust which hit us as we peered inside the door. When it settled, we found a bunch of glass jars with nondescript brown contents. Each one was labelled in a faint spidery hand.

  “What’s this?” Tess said, picking up something that looked suspiciously like bird claws.

  “Chicken feet,” I said, squinting at the writing.

  “No, too many letters. Cockatrice feet?” Jez said

  “What? You've got to be kidding. Cockatrices are like mythical D&D stuff,” Tess spluttered. Jez and I looked at her in surprise. “What, I used to be into mythical animals and stuff when I was a kid. Nan let me read that big book of hers. What was it called?”

  “The Bestiary? I remember because Mum thought it said something a whole lot different and nearly flipped her lid, until Dad pointed out the actual spelling of the title.”

  “I stopped reading it after that, it felt . . . weird. Look, there’s a fair bit of space in here. Let's open the other cupboards and start sticking books in here.”

  “You’re going to have to do an inventory,” Jez said, looking around her.

  “Ah no, you’re going to have to do an inventory, as soon as we get those books moved. Photos of each one, order them alphabetically and start selling these suckers online.”

  “Me and my big mouth. . . . Alright, come on, Your Majesty. Stash those babies in here on the bottom shelf. Watch out for the jars of . . . buffalo testicles. Ew!”

  Tess and the others went back to hauling books as I struggled to open all the cupboards. Most were like the first one, dusty with a bunch of brown jars in them, but a few held stock we'd never seen before. One ended up being a wardrobe full of richly coloured clothes. "Whoa!" I said, waving away the stench of mothballs.

  "What the . . .?" Jez said, and then that was it, all us girls downed tools to inspect the new threads.

  "What do you think?" Tess held a deep-blue crushed velvet dress up to her body.

  "Girl, that's doing some amazing things to your eyes. They really pop!"

  "Ah, thank goodness, proper raiment for your ladyships! I was quite concerned that some misfortune had befallen your house that required you all to wear men's clothing," the prince said.

  I moved to one of the last cupboards as everyone else twittered about the clothes. It was a lot larger than the others and seemed to be built in an alcove in the wall rather than sitting against it. Either that or it was some kind of back door. I went through all of the keys on the ring but none fit. No wonder really, the lock looked ancient, made from black cast iron. I looked around as the girls started trying frocks on.

  "Ma'am, may I say how beautiful you look in that gown?" Harold asked.

  "You may, kind sir," Jez said with an exaggerated curtsey before she and Tess burst out laughing. I pawed my way through the stuff on the shelves under the hook. Books, old receipts, a box of old paper clips and rubber bands, a locked cash box. Huh, I picked it up then gave it a shake. A few metal things jangled around inside. I opened it with a small key on the ring and found what looked like an old medal, a silver ring with an unpolished chunk of amethyst in it, a bunch of old coins from God knows where and a big ornate key.

  "Ooh," Tess said with a grin, "that looks like a magical key that opens a treasure chest or a wizard's book of spells."

  "Kinda weird that it's so fancy. Maybe it's just the equivalent of a magical hazmat cabinet."

  "So, should we open it? Your Nan never opened any of these cupboards while I worked for her.”

  "It's just a door," I said, and I slid the key into a lock.

  It was fairly evident this wasn't true the moment I turned the key. A bright-blue light zipped along the door frame, and the door started to shake a little. I jumped back, wondering what the fuck was going on when the doors flew open.

  "Oh, thank goodness! You're open! My master has been demanding some polished amber dust and gryphon beak for weeks! I was not sure what he'd do if I came back empty-handed this time. Please tell me you have some in stock as every other establishment I have visited has none to sell."

  Tess, Jez and I all looked blankly at the very short little man standing in the doorway. The very short man with greenish skin, pointed ears and pale-blond hair wearing a three-piece suit and a monocle.

  "Excuse me," he said with a frown, "is the proprietor about?"

  "Tess, did you read Harry Potter last night?"

  "No."

  "Watch the movie? See an ad for it on TV? Is this Dobby?"

  "Wasn't he kind of blueish, with droopy ears?" she replied.

  “No, Gollum was blue, Dobby was beige,” Jez said.

  “Well, he can't be an elf, they were all tall and Orlando Bloom-ish."

  “What is Orlando Bloom-ish? Guys who have a tendency to end up married to supermodels?" Tess said.

  "Excuse me! Is this how you treat valued customers? Leave them standing in the doorway while in dire need of service. No welcome, no acknowledgement of my order. You are quite the rudest young women I have ever com
e across!" the little man spluttered.

  "If I may assist, ladies, I believe this is a gnome from the Free City of Mirena," Harold said. The little guy drew himself up and gave a tight nod. "Good sir, would you care to come in and have a spot of the most delightful tea? Jez, if you could prepare a fresh pot that would be lovely." And the prince steered the little man into the front of the shop while we stood there, open-mouthed.

  "I think I see why most monarchies are now constitutional," Jez said. "I guess I better get to making that tea."

  "Yes, autocrats tend to be bloody autocratic don't they? But hang on.” I wandered over to the doorway that showed a view of a busy street, except it looked like no street I'd ever seen. The architecture was oddly rounded and seemed to grow like cactuses, buds of new growth sprouting off the main body. The sky was a quite beautiful swirl of apricot and pale blue; much like a sunset, though the sun beat down brightly. People of all shapes and sizes bustled past, and I mean every size. Tiny little people flitted by on brightly coloured wings and a great big lump of a guy, who looked like he was made from a jumble of boulders, rolled past. A guy who had the body of a man and the head of a German Schnauzer stopped when he saw me peering out and approached, weaving between the crowds.

  "You're open again? What good news!" he said. "Benjamin Radcliffe, at your service."

  I took his grey-furred hand and gave it a shake, “Ash McKinnon and my sister, Tess."

  "McKinnon? You must be Miranda's granddaughters! What a pleasure. She mentioned you often when I had time to come by. I've seen many a photo. How is your grandmother?"

  Silence yawned between us. Gran was very ill when she went. She'd had a series of strokes which left her more and more incapacitated. We’d been upset to hear she'd gotten so ill, but were almost grateful for her sake when she'd finally gone. It was no life for her, not being able to see anymore, unable to keep track of her conversations, talking to us like we were her sisters. Despite that, it'd still hit us hard when she'd finally gone. I felt the familiar prickle of a sadness I'd had to put to one side more and more in my chest, forcing me to take a deep breath.