Designer attire? Precious gems? Those held little appeal since she rarely ventured out. And that was never her style, anyway, not even when she'd been young, slender, and halfway pretty. Besides, she loved her existing collection of jewelry. It wasn't extensive, but each piece was carefully chosen and loved. She didn't really need or want any more. Not that the occasional addition to her jewelry box wasn't welcome, but she certainly didn't need a fortune for that.
Her lips curved, though, as she considered some of the other options money would give her. She could support charities, and donate, and stuff like that. She liked that idea, too.
Oh! Didn’t some millionaire used to go around leaving random gifts of money? Was that Howard Hughs, maybe? She could totally get behind that… carrying hundred dollar bills around with her and spontaneously gifting huge tips to waiters and waitresses, busboys, taxi drivers, rideshare drivers.
Maybe she could even take a road trip, since driving wasn’t ever a problem for her, even with her bad back. Cross-country, maybe, and find people along the way to shower money on. Anonymously, of course. She’d have to figure out a way to -
The sound of a throat clearing brought her attention back to the Djinn watching her. His silvery-blue eyes glinted with a mix of amusement and something unreadable.
"Oh." She blushed, heat creeping up her neck to her cheeks, remembering suddenly he could read her thoughts. Her mind raced, trying to recall everything she'd been thinking. "Sorry, I let my imagination get away with me."
He did the eyebrow thing again, one perfect black brow arching up in a way which shouldn't have been so elegant, and she bit back a giggle. Yep, she was definitely getting giddy. If she could have, she would have leaped off the sofa and jumped for joy, spun and twirled and danced around the apartment like a teenager, and screamed to the world from her balcony. Her cats would think she'd lost her mind, but who cared? They could come on the road trip with her!
"About that…" His dry tone broke in on her sudden euphoria, and she dragged her thoughts back into order. The last thing she wanted was to mess up whatever magic had brought him into her life.
"I understand," she reassured him. "It's a secret. I'm not really going to go yelling from the rooftops that Djinn exist… that magic exists." She held his gaze, hoping he'd see that she grasped the gravity of the situation despite her thoughts going off into crazy places.
His penetrating gaze lingered on her features, making her throat constrict with nervousness. She nearly gave in to the urge to squirm under his scrutiny when he finally inclined his head.
"I trust your word."
She regarded him, thinking over what he'd told her so far. The more he spoke with her, the easier it became to believe what was happening, to accept it as truth rather than fantasy. His presence carried such gravitas, such solid reality, she couldn't deny the evidence of her own senses. She told him so, her fingers absently stroking Bach's fur where he lounged beside her.
"Could you kind of... keep telling me more?" she asked hesitantly. "It makes it more real for me, and less like this is some kind of hallucination, or a daydream that got out of hand or... or something." She paused, considering the fairy tales and stories she'd grown up with. "So, there are rules. Can you explain more?"
Kieran nodded, his features growing grave. "Good intent is not enough. You mentioned that movie, the Disney one," and his mouth twisted in distaste. "The rules there are indeed correct in essence. First and foremost, bringing back the deceased would be considered evil, regardless of intent. The ramifications extend much deeper than what's apparent on the surface."
"Right." Mandy nodded at him. "Dead is dead."
"Exactly. And when it comes to matters of the heart, it's also a concern. We Djinn have strict rules against tampering with anyone's freedom of choice."
"What about protection from someone dangerous? A stalker, maybe?" Mandy asked. "How could you stop them without restricting their free will?"
"That's actually quite manageable," Kieran explained, his tone shifting to something almost professorial. "We could make you completely undetectable to them - they wouldn't see you, your home, or even find traces of you online. Or, if the threat was more serious, events could be arranged to ensure their capture - perhaps through a crucial piece of evidence coming to light, or a witness stepping forward."
"Wow." Mandy shook her head, impressed. "That's both clever and thorough. Talk about a magical restraining order! It's just…" she pondered the explanation, her brow furrowed as she tried to grasp the concept. "How is that even possible?”
His shoulders lifted dismissively. "It's magic," he said, as if that explained everything. Which, when she thought about it, she guessed it kind of did.
She frowned, as a new question made itself known.
"What about something like Oprah discovering my books?" Mandy leaned forward, her earlier hesitation forgotten. "I mean, I know she'd love them if she just read them. But how could you arrange that without compromising her free will?"
Kieran's expression turned thoughtful, those silvery-blue eyes distant. "It could be arranged... perhaps during air travel. Your book appears in her seat pocket just as her own reading material suffers an unfortunate beverage accident. A subtle enchantment draws her attention to your novel..."
"That's amazing. And kind of devious." Mandy's lips twitched. "I like it."
He laughed outright at her response, his head tipped back, his teeth gleaming white against his tan skin. The rich, melodious sound filled her living room. "We are Djinn. It is our nature to find mischief." His silver-blue eyes sparkled with centuries of practiced cunning.
Heat crept up her neck as she realized she was staring. She couldn't help it - the change in him was remarkable. Gone was the intimidating Djinn who had appeared in her living room demanding answers. In his place sat someone approachable, magnetic even. The stern mask had cracked, revealing glimpses of a personality as complex as the magic he wielded.
Her heart skipped a beat as those silvery-blue eyes met hers, still dancing with amusement. The intensity of his gaze sent a flutter through her stomach that had nothing to do with anxiety this time. How had she not noticed before just how handsome he was? The strong line of his jaw, the elegant arch of those black brows against his tan skin, the way his presence seemed to draw her in like a magnet...
Mandy forced her gaze down to her teacup, her cheeks burning. What was she thinking? He was an ancient, powerful being who had walked the earth for millennia. And she was... well, she was just herself. An overweight, elderly lady who needed a cane to walk, lived with two demanding cats, and wrote books.
Speaking of cats, Mozart chose that moment to make another playful swipe at Kieran's robes, providing a welcome distractionfrom her wayward thoughts. She watched his antics, grateful for the distraction from her confusing thoughts. The orange tabby had managed to catch a fold of the shimmering fabric between his paws, his green eyes wide with feline triumph.
"Speaking of mischief makers," she said, gesturing toward Mozart with her teacup, "that reminds me of something else I was wondering about the wishes." She paused, organizing her thoughts. "I assume the Djinn have some way to handle large sums of money appearing in someone's life without triggering investigations? I mean, if someone suddenly came into millions of dollars, wouldn't that raise red flags with the FBI or SEC?"
