Page 2 of 5 Golden Flings

Oh.

Oh.

Nova heard a soft sound of mingled awe and joy, didn’t register that it had come from her. The black iridescent dragon stared at her from its den of black velvet, one claw lifted and the other resting on a globe. Its wings were spread, the powerful creature poised to take flight with the world in its grasp. The piercing, bejeweled eyes seemed to be focused on her, daring her to . . . what? Take flight with it? Seize the world, as it had?

Like all the ornaments, the workmanship on the dragon was exquisite. The black overlapping scales shimmered and glittered, traced by silver. The colors were reversed on the globe it held, black tracing the iridescent silver continents.

She reached out a slightly trembling hand and stroked her forefinger over the lines of the creature, caressing the fierce and majestic head. The crystal eyes seemed to bore through her and she felt the call to take flight and risk all —

Call.

This, then, was what Ms. Tinsel had meant, to find the ornament that spoke to her so strongly she felt a bond, a sense of connection.

Gently she lifted the dragon and globe from the velvet den. “Hello,” she said softly. “You’re going home with me.”

CHAPTER 2

December

Nova pulled a Christmas wreath from a storage box and positioned it on the door hanger, getting her front door in the holiday spirit. Usually hanging the door wreath was one of her favorite parts of decorating because it seemed to set the mood for decorating the rest of the house, but not this time, not this Christmas.

Something was wrong. Nova couldn’t put her finger on it but she felt as if her life was slipping out of her control, tilting away from happiness toward grief and loneliness. Nothing was obviously out of whack; her business was humming along and meeting her expectations. There were always up and downs but she had analyzed and anticipated, and nothing had taken her by surprise. Her holiday plans were coming together with only a few minor glitches.

Still.

She stepped back to observe her handiwork in the mellow glow of the porch light, straightened the wreath an inch to the left, then returned inside to start decorating the tree. The treewas the most labor intensive, but normally she loved doing it, loved decorating the house for Christmas. The door wreath was the opening move, the tree was the Big Deal, and the rest of the house was gradually dealt with.

She loved Christmas. Her older sister Celesta would arrive with her husband and three kids, her mother would take over in the kitchen and wonderful smells would fill the house. Her step-father Doc would be playing with the children as if he was no older than they were, the kids would be running and yelling and laughing, oohing at the decorated tree and all the pretty lights, the tableaus and figurines, the fake snow and fresh pine needles on the mantle, the bowls of treats and snacks — all of that was on track. There was no reason for her to feel so sad, almost panicked.

A trip loomed in her near future, as in two-days near. She had to go to the west coast before the holidays, to meet with a potential vendor. She wanted to go and yet she didn’t. Expanding her business was good for her finances, and she loved her work. She didn’t do anything earth-shattering, she owned a boutique that catered to the upper-middle income clientele base, but there was something satisfying in discovering unique pieces of clothing of good quality for her customers. Someone could walk out of her store with an outfit that wasn’t likely to be seen on someone else, because Nova also enjoyed putting together ensembles that might be a little unexpected but were always flattering.

The vendor in California had some really interesting pieces of his own design on his website, mostly wraps and tops suitable for a night of clubbing, but he also had some shoes that made Nova’s mouth water. Her own tastes tended toward classic but she really liked the combination of striking shoes with more subdued clothing.

The pieces were more expensive than what she usually carried in her store. She would be taking a financial risk bringing in items that raised her overhead and might not sell as well as the inventory she normally carried.

Dilemma: a non-risk taker needed to take a risk.

She spent two hours getting the multi-colored lights positioned just so on the tree, climbing up and down on the stepladder until she was so tired she called the light-hanging done, at least for tonight. Tweaking was allowed, after all. Next were the ornaments, and almost all of them were memories, safely wrapped in tissue paper and tucked into labeled boxes. Then she saw an unlabeled box, and that was so unusual she paused, frowning. She didn’t recognize the box, which was oblong in shape and made of a heavy gauge cardboard that had been stamped with the nameWISHING WELL ORNAMENTS.She, who alphabetically organized her spices and arranged her closet by color, would definitely remember that box and she’d never have left it unlabeled. Celesta said she was OCD but Nova didn’t mind disorder as long as it didn’t cost her any time. Her schedule demanded she be as organized as possible.

“Huh. Wishing Well.” The name was oddly familiar but offhand she couldn’t place it. She picked up the mystery box, which was light for its size, but nevertheless felt as if it held a substantial weight. Nova resisted the urge to shake it, instead placing the box on the floor and lifting the lid away. The contents were concealed by black tissue paper that glittered with iridescent stars.

She folded back the tissue paper and the dragon stared at her. Memories of that hot July day flooded back, the white-haired woman, the sense of wonder she’d felt when she first saw the dragon.

“Oh, my,” she said softly as she lifted the gorgeous thing from the box. “How could I have forgotten you?”

The dragon’s jeweled eyes flashed at her, as if asking the same thing.

With the tip of her forefinger she stroked the exquisitely shaped head, then the powerful wings. The ornament should have felt cool but a subtle heat emanated from it as if it was a living entity.

The dragon liked being stroked.

She laughed out loud, amused by the fantasy. Cupping it in both hands she lifted it to eye level. Where should she place this beautiful piece? It didn’t exactly fit with the more traditional decor of her tree, but it was so eye-catching she wanted it to be somewhere it would, well, catch the eye.

“There’s something about you,” she murmured to the dragon, rising to her feet to cross to the mantle and try out a position there, amid the greenery. Nope, still too traditional. “You look as if you would dare anything. You even seized the world and look as if carrying it in your talons is no more strain than carrying an egg. Me? I don’t dare anything. Security is important to people. Well, it’s important to me. Doc has some heart problems. If something happens to him, will Mom be okay financially? And there’s Granita, she’s a force of nature but she’s even older. If I have to, will I be able to take care of them?”

It wasn’t just the three older members of her family, either; it was her employees, all four of them, and their families who depended on their salaries. Owning a business wasn’t for the careless or the faint of heart.

“Not here,” she told the dragon, lifting him from the mantle. “This isn’t your place. You need center-of-attention space. How do you feel about being the centerpiece on the table? I can do wonders with some books for different heights and covered with a piece of velvet, make you a dramatic perch with some battery-operated fairy lights circled around your cliff. Some velvet, some lights, a little bit of magic.” Sighing, she held him at eye level again. “I wish I had your balls. Not literally. I’m not built for dragon balls. I don’t know if dragons even have balls.”

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