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“As you wish, little one. Badassery is worth sharing.”
“Cool!” she squeals as his illusion dissipates into an ashy fog.
She’s not wrong. His wings solidify before the rest of him does. Rather than tall, dark, and handsome, he’s the first two, plus something else. Sinister, maybe, with sharp, angular features and silver eyes.
“What do you say to Mr. Argoss for putting this together?” I ask, resting a hand playfully on my hip.
“Thank you, Mr. Argoss.” She claps her hands and mouths ‘awesome’ as his massive form fades back into his handsome illusion. I’m quickly coming to the conclusion that it might be my favorite face in the world. Real or not. “Are you and Felicity going to make out now?”
I roll my eyes, but Argoss smirks. “Only if she wants to.”
“Hey,” I say, changing the subject by pointing to something on the other side of the field. “Is that a cotton candy machine?”
Lucy immediately perks up and looks at Argoss. He shrugs. “It’s not a picnic party without a cotton candy machine. Go on. Get as much sugar as you can and give Felicity hell.”
With a delighted shriek, she races to the cotton candy machine, leaving me alone with him. He sighs, watching her go. “She’s an irrepressible kid,” he says.
I smile and watch as Bo, one of our werewolves, plays chase with Heather, one of our witches, and Graham, one of our few humans. He’s declared them his pack, and now all three have to be adopted together. It’s a challenge to find the right family, but I won’t give up on them in the same way that they’d never give up on each other.
“You really made her day with that cotton candy machine.” Handsome as he is, I figure a little praise can’t hurt anything and might help him remember my name. “If she gets her hands on a broom, she’ll be literally and figuratively bouncing off the walls for the next week.”
“Just what you need,” he replies with a smirk.
“Actually, it is.” I gesture broadly to the party. “Seriously, this is amazing. I can’t believe you put this together in two days.”
“Felicity!” little orc Eleanor cries. “Come play with us!” She holds up a frisbee like it’s the holy grail.
I smile and shrug. “Duty calls.”
I expect him to mingle with the rest of the staff, but to my surprise, he joins us in a game of ultimate frisbee. He’s patient with the kids as they try to engage with him, being maybe a little too honest about relationships sometimes, and they all love him for it.
“You’re good with them,” I say between games as we walk past the contractors doing repair work on the orphanage.
He shrugs. “I just treat them how they want to be treated.”
I snort. “You’d be surprised how few adults actually do that. When you’re a kid, everything’s new and strange, and these adults give you rules without bothering to explain why they’re there. It’s not really fair, is it?”
Argoss shakes his head. “Fair is only a concern for the weak. If you’re clever, you won’t be restrained by the government of fair.”
I raise my eyebrows and then shrug. “I suppose.”
“I mean, you Topsiders aresoparticular with your laws. All i’s dotted and t’s crossed. It gets so tedious.”
He’s leading me away from the main group and deeper into the woods beneath the network of treehouses. I’m about to suggest that we go back, but then I see where he’s taken me. A red and white checkered blanket is weighed down with a wicker basket beneath a gnarled oak tree, the whole scene looking like a picnic from a storybook.
“What’s this?” I ask as he sits on the blanket and sets out plates and cups. Instead of burgers and hotdogs, he pulls out what looks to be chicken marsala and a bottle of wine.
“I thought you might like something other than barbecue,” he replies.
My stomach flutters. Could his interest in the orphanage perhaps be something more? The notion is certainly flattering, but I suddenly feel in over my head. What if I mess something up for the kids? How do I navigate this situation?
“Oh, I don’t think this is a good idea,” I demure, but his eyes widen as he shakes his head.
“This isn’t what you think,” he says.
“Then what is it?” I ask, and the fluttering in my stomach turns into a knot of dread. Did I read this all wrong and humiliate myself?
“A business proposal,” he replies and spoons the food onto a plate before gesturing for me to have a seat.
