Perfectly Matched Read online

  Cherise’s eyebrow rose. “He’s very stubborn.”

  Amanda flashed her an irritated look. “Besides, if you recall, it’s his fault we had to contact As You Wish in the first place.”

  As You Wish had received a frantic call from Cherise this morning, needing to hire someone to play the tooth fairy. Amanda’s daughter, five-year-old Laurel Grace, had lost her first tooth, and had been excited for the tooth fairy to come—until her father told her there was no such thing.

  Aunt Ve, who had taken the call, had somehow deemed that this was the perfect job for me to take on. I had my doubts. Especially when I saw the gossamer wings and the pink tights. Not to mention the dreadful tulle.

  Cherise looked pained. She explained, “He wasn’t thinking. Once he realized what he’d said, he tried to convince Laurel Grace he’d been kidding, but the damage had been done.”

  “Not the first time,” Amanda murmured.

  “I just wish . . . ,” Cherise began.

  I sucked in a breath, waiting. My every nerve was on alert, standing on end, prickling, getting ready to react. Adrenaline surged, flowed.

  “I just wish . . .” She shook her head. “Never mind.”

  I let out the breath I’d been holding.

  Wringing her hands, Amanda said, “Five-year-olds shouldn’t have to grow up so soon. Darcy, we need you to convince her that sometimes grown-ups can be wrong. The last thing we want her thinking is that magic doesn’t exist, especially when she doesn’t know about her Craft yet.”

  “I’ll certainly do my best,” I said. “Shall we give it a try?”

  Aunt Ve had gone over exactly what I should do. I ran over the instructions in my head as I slowly turned the doorknob to Laurel Grace’s bedroom. I held my breath and entered.

  Moonbeams slipped through striped curtains, spreading muted light across the room. The walls were painted pastel pink and trimmed in creamy white. Touches of pale green were everywhere from curtains to the overstuffed chair in the corner, to the duvet on the bed. Stuffed animals overflowed a toy chest, books were piled high on a corner bookshelf, and a dollhouse sat on a tiny table in the middle of the room, filled with delicate-looking miniatures.

  I turned my attention to the four-poster bed. Tucked under a lightweight comforter, Laurel Grace slept on her side. I crept closer. Blond ringlets fell across a lace-trimmed pillowcase. Her little face, slack with sleep, was angelic and peaceful.

  I was aware of Amanda and Cherise lurking in the doorway as I carefully slid my hand under Laurel Grace’s pillow. I pulled out the little ribbon-edged, tooth-shaped pillow that had been delivered by courier earlier in the day for Laurel Grace to tuck her tooth into. I felt the lump of the tiny tooth under the fabric as I brought the keepsake over to Amanda and handed it to her.

  I then walked back over to the bed, opened my purse, and pulled out a small satin pouch trimmed in white ostrich feathers. Laurel Grace’s name had been embroidered in pink on the bag. Inside, two one-dollar gold pieces clinked together. I gently slid the pouch under the pillow.

  I smiled in the twilight, thinking about how expensive that little tooth had been. Two dollars from the tooth fairy, fifty dollars for accessories, and one hundred dollars for half an hour of my time.

  I bent my head close to Laurel Grace’s and whispered the words Aunt Ve had me memorize.

  “Hello, hello, little one,

  A tooth you have lost,

  More you will lose,

  Put them under your pillow,

  And take a sweet snooze.

  For upon that eve,

  You will receive

  A visit from me,

  If you just believe.”

  Laurel Grace’s eyelids squeezed into a wince—I couldn’t blame her—it was a horrible, horrible rhyme—then popped open.

  Filled with a warmth that came from being part of such a special moment, I suddenly had visions of being the area’s go-to tooth fairy, spreading love and happiness and gold coins across the state, heck, all of New England. Even the tulle didn’t seem so uncomfortable anymore.

  Laurel Grace stared at me for a second, probably taking in the tiara, the eyelashes, the wings, the makeup and glitter. I kept quiet, giving her a moment for it all to sink in.

  Abruptly, she sat upright, looked me straight in the eyes, and started screaming at the top of her lungs. Long, shrieking cries that hurt my ears. “Stranger danger! Stran-ger dan-ger!”

  Startled, I screamed back.

  Amanda rushed into the room, saying, “Shhh, shhh.”

  I wasn’t sure if she was talking to me or her daughter.

  Clamping my lips closed, I backed away as Amanda sat on the bed and gathered Laurel Grace close. “Shhh.”

  “Stranger danger! Stran-ger dan-ger!” Laurel Grace continued to howl.

  “No, no,” I said, gathering my wits. “I’m not a stranger! I’m the tooth fairy.” Heaven help me, I even twirled.

  My skirt billowed out, raining sparkles on the carpet.

  “No, you’re not.” Tears flowed from Laurel Grace’s eyes.

  Ve had not prepared me for this scenario.

  “Yes, I am,” I reassured, fluffing layers of tulle as though that would help my cause.

  “She really is.” Cherise sat on the other side of the bed, rubbing Laurel Grace’s back.

  “No, she’s not,” Laurel Grace insisted.

  “Why isn’t she?” Amanda asked her daughter.

  “She’s—she’s . . .” I was waiting for the words “a fraud” to fall from her lips, and was shocked when she said, “She’s not blond!”

  I held back a smile as I fingered my long dark hair, trying to think of what to do, what to say. I knelt by Laurel Grace’s bed and improvised as best I could. “Fairies are just like people.” And Crafters, I added silently. “We come in all different shapes, sizes, and colors.”

  She gazed at me with big blue eyes as though I wasn’t even close to measuring up to her idea of a fairy. It was true I more resembled Esméralda from Disney’s Hunchback of Notre Dame, which might be a tad bit confusing to a five-year-old looking for the Tinkerbell sort, so I tried really hard not to be offended when she started wailing again.

  I saw Cherise’s lips moving but couldn’t hear what she was saying, and then her left eye blinked twice. Laurel Grace immediately quieted but still wore a tremulous pout.

  Cherise had used a curing spell to calm the little girl.

  Amanda quickly said, “Why don’t you look under your pillow, honey?”

  I recognized a chance to escape when I saw one. “I should be going. Lots of stops to make tonight. Lots of teeth lost!” I backed out of the room as Laurel Grace pulled the satin pouch from beneath the pillow.

  “How did she know my name, Mommy?” I heard from the safety of the hallway.

  “Because she’s magical,” Amanda answered. “Do you believe now?”

  “Maybe,” Laurel Grace whispered.

  I had to smile at her noncommitment.

  Cherise had followed me out. “Thank you, Darcy,” she said as we walked down the stairs. In the kitchen, she pressed a check into my hand. “I’ll let Velma know what a great job you did.”

  I was ready to put this whole night behind me—and hang up my wings for good. I tucked the check into my purse. “You’re welcome.”

  Cherise rubbed her ears as if they were still ringing. “She’s tiny, but she has a pair of lungs that can rival an opera singer. Sometimes spells come in handy, don’t you think?”

  I fidgeted, not sure what to say.

  Before I could come up with a response, she added, “I just wish Dennis could be here right now. He’s really missing out on an important event in his daughter’s life.”

  She stared expectantly at me.

  She had me. As a Wishcrafter, I was obligated to grant the wish. However, if Cherise wasn’t pure of heart in her motives for making the wish, my spell wouldn’t work no matter how hard I tried to grant it. Do no harm.

  My
nerves tingled as I said softly, “Wish I might, wish I may, grant this wish without delay.” I winked my left eye twice, which would look merely like a twitch to a mortal, but other Crafters would know my spell had been cast. “You’re sneaky.”

  “I know. Sorry about that.” She gave me a mischievous smile. “You just can’t trust anyone these days.”

  It Takes a Witch

  is available at bookstores everywhere.

  Coming Soon:

  A Witch Before Dying – August 2012

  The Good, the Bad, and the Witchy – Spring 2013

  ***

  About the Author:

  Heather Webber (aka Heather Blake) is the author of over a dozen novels. She's a Dr Pepper enthusiast, total homebody who loves to be close to her family, read, watch Reality TV (totally addicted, especially to competition shows), crochet, occasionally leave the house to hike the beautiful mountains in the northeast, bake (mostly cookies) and dreams of owning a house at the base of Mt. Mansfield in Stowe, VT. Heather grew up in a suburb of Boston, but she currently lives in the Cincinnati area with her family.

  www.heatherwebber.com

  www.heatherblakebooks.com

  ***

  Other books by Heather:

  The Nina Quinn Mystery Series:

  A Hoe Lot of Trouble

  Trouble in Spades

  Digging up Trouble

  Trouble in Bloom

  Weeding out Trouble

  Trouble Under the Tree

  The Lucy Valentine Novels

  (romantic mysteries)

  Truly, Madly

  Deeply, Desperately

  Absolutely, Positively