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But it’s not like I want any of this, so we follow the young witch to a group of tables in front of a portable stage. Emphasis on portable.
As Lucy pulls out each of our chairs, my eyes wander to a voluptuous sight across the drab community center. Dark hair in long wavy locks frames a flawless, heart-shaped face. Her green eyes lock with my own, and I decide a taste of her beats anything the dessert table has to offer.
“You dudes rich like we’re all hoping?” Lucy asks as a crowd of guests move in and block my view of the buxom beauty. “Because we’re not.” The girl gestures to the stage, where a podium sits before a smorgasbord of prizes.
I expected to spend some money at tonight's event, so I support her with a chuckle while the rest of the table squirms. A couple of small benches at the front of the stage hold what I assume are the first of many enchanted donations. The two enormous flower arrangements boast several rare and aromatic flowers.
Onyx-colored lilies, blooming moonflowers, and an array of spinning violet roses comprise most of the first bouquet, no doubt crafted by the garden gnomes at Little Shop of Florals. Their custom-grown greenery of fern and moss is a dead giveaway. Plus, they’re the only place in Briarwood with fire-breathing snapdragons that actually last past a few spurts of aroma.
“Maybe I should risk the itchy eyes and get Cyella something nice,” Greiko muses.
“No,” I say. There’s no way he’s sneezing all over my Maserati. Not for a third time. “Something more –”
The beauty I've been watching ascends the stage along with Lucy and another kid, a human boy with dusty blond hair. I forget what I was saying to Grieko as she greets the crowd.
“Welcome everyone,” she begins, a genuine smile stretched across her face. If there’s any prize I plan on leaving with tonight, it’s her.
2
FELICITY
Iregret letting Lucy and Graham play Vanna White tonight, especially since both kids seem to think the model dances next to things when she clearly doesn’t. Not in the YouTube clips I showed them. It’s point and smile. We’ve gone over this. Point and smile.
“Welcome, everyone,” I say into the microphone while the shiver running down my spine slithers its way out of my system.
I hate public speaking, even though I’m good with words. Good in uncomfortable situations, such as asking people for money. They know it’s what I want from them, which is the reason I emailed every philanthropist and deep-pocketed citizen in Briarwood an invitation to tonight’s auction.
The prizes are a product of my hard work, too, since the majority were donated. All in all, months of hard work have finally paid off, and I’m struggling to come up with an interesting way to bring it up. I study the notecards in my hands as Lucy hums beside me. Graham sways and waves to the crowd.
I clear my throat. What I’ve written doesn’t look nearly as entertaining now.
“And…” I tuck a wayward strand of hair behind my ear as I trail off, scanning the well-dressed crowd and their bored faces.
Or maybe rich people just have no expressions? I’ve never been able to figure out the stoic look. I’m sure most of the WASPs here have already heard what I’m about to say a hundred times over. A polite – and boring – diatribe none of us want repeated.
“And I’m about to lull you to sleep if I read these,” I finish, holding up the notecards and hoping the audience is empathetic.
I make eye contact with the tall drink of water I noticed at the buffet earlier. His smoldering blue eyes ignite into a mischievous leer as he smirks my way along with the rest of the crowd. A smattering of chuckles follow, and I can feel my shoulders relaxing.
“So I’m just going to wing it and offer a round of applause to our cooks and waitstaff tonight.” I gesture to the kids, then to Veronica, the orphanage’s second teacher in charge of molding the strong-willed minds in our charge.
Min, Lyla, and Gary complete the kitchen staff and administrative coordinator positions at the orphanage. I’m the only human in the bunch. Well, full human. Veronica is half-satyr, meaning she’s got goat legs that shed something fierce. But other than that and her tiny horns, she’s inherited most of her human mother’s traits.
“A small crew, but they're worth the hair I’ve lost since joining this circus full time,” I continue, breaking my gaze from the gorgeous man at the front row table.“I may look like your average Irish and Italian Pacific Islander, but I’m actually a yeti.”
I get a respectable amount of laughter from the audience and continue without keeping my eyes on him. I know the snack’s not human. Supernaturals just have that essence. But what exactly is he?
“Which is why it took so long for me to join the crew,” I continue. “Full-time, at least. See, I have this thing I do, where I weigh the options out so long that I don’t make a decision.”
“It’s true,” Min says, loud enough for the crowd to hear and respond with a titter.
“But a little voice kept telling me the orphanage was where I belonged, even if I wasn’t a hundred percent sure every second of the day. Plus all the voicemails Min sent to my phone. Those got annoying. She has too many allies,” I finish, gesturing to the kids.
Another shiver festers at the base of my neck. How do I wrap this speech up? Bring it back to the subject at hand? I lock eyes with the ten in the audience again. I need to pull my gaze away so I can think of a segue.
"So, well done accepting their invite on the first try. You don’t know how much time you saved yourself succumbing to their charms so soon.” I stop for a smattering of applause and focus on the back of the room. “Obviously, none of you got rich by being stupid.”
“It’s my glamorous charm!” Roland, a five-year-old vampire, hollers from his spot near Veronica. The crowd laughs, while a few centaurs seated at a back table clap and cheer.
