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“Yes, thanks,” I said.
“The elf ball, then, my ladies,” he said, sweeping his clawed hand toward the huge stone estate.
“Thank you,” Seyla called out in a sing-song voice. “Here we come, elves!”
I liked elves. Lord of the Rings was one of my favorite movies.
The driver backed up and turned, soon zooming down the drive while Seyla and I tiptoed toward the entrance on our heels. We took the broad granite steps to the top and followed other guests toward the big front doors held open by elves with long black hair and pristine tunics with enough gild to fit in a medieval movie.
Seyla paused on the broad stone deck to primp our hair and dresses.
Two elf women to our right glared.
“You’re in the way,” one said, staring down her hawk-like nose at us.
I gaped at her long, glorious white hair, her teal eyes that almost glowed, and how amazing she looked in her silver gown.
“Come, Drueline,” the other woman said in a snooty tone, tugging on her friend’s arm. “Ignore the humans.”
They sauntered through the front door like runway models.
“Yeah, we’ll ignorethem,” Seyla said, fluffing the artfully created curls draping around my shoulders. “Funny how you run into mean girls in every culture. You’d think women would stand up for each other, but no.” She smoothed my gown and grinned. “It doesn’t matter. You’re pure perfection.”
“Thanks. So are you.”
“You’ll find someone tonight. Curl your finger a likely guy’s way, take him to the garden for some hot and heavy, then say goodbye.”
“I can’t do something like that. That would be using someone as a sperm donor without his consent.”
“Be honest, then. Tell him you want a baby, but you don’t want commitment, that you won’t ask him for child support or any rights.”
I frowned. “Will a guy go along with something like that?’
She shrugged. “All you can do is ask.”
Short of putting up a notice on the telephone poles in town,Woman Seeking Sperm Donor, only those uninterested in commitment need apply, I didn’t appear to have many options.
I doubted Monster Mingle, the matchmaking business in town, would fix me up with a monster looking to give me a baby without the marriage, house, and backyard stuff that made my heart eager to run.
“Consider it a bachelorette season only instead of looking for a husband, you’re looking for baby-making material.”
“No love.”
She made an X on her chest. “Emotions are off limits. Make that clear from the start.”
As we passed the elves holding the doors open, they bowed. We tap-tap-tapped on our heels into an enormous, multi-story foyer. Gold outlined the walls and the arched ceiling three or four stories above us. Magic hung in the air; I could almost feel it shimmering around me.
“That can’t be real gold,” I whispered to Seyla, nudging my finger toward a satyr statue gleaming in the low lights.
She shrugged and smoothed her gown. She’d dressed in a floor-length, baby blue dress that made her look like a princess.
I wore a dark green dress that was essentially a cliché for a redhead, one with a too-low bodice that barely covered my boobs. As long as I didn’t sneeze, they wouldn’t pop out.
“Where should we go?” I asked, peering around.
“Up the stairs, ladies,” one of the tall elves near the door said, pointing. “Follow the sounds of the crowd.” His appreciative gaze glided down Seyla’s body, though she didn’t appear to notice.
At the top of the stairs, we walked sedately down an ornate hall with marble tiled floors and paintings of stoic elves mounted on the walls. At the end, we came to a large double doorway with huge planters on either side containing potted palms reaching toward the high ceiling. Lilting music, bright chatter, and the clink of glasses drew us toward the room beyond like butterflies to pretty flowers.
