Page 36 of Sincerely, Secretary of Doom

Violet’s words caught in her throat. “The Secretary of Doom,” she decided. “I’m a little offended you didn’t do your research on our staff before calling us,” she added on the end.

There was a notable shuffle on the other end as Fil fumbled through an apology, and Violet smiled.

“That’s… quite the interesting job title,” Fil said, even though it was obvious thatinterestingwas the last thing he felt it was. Just like any dull doorknob journalist with no imagination. “My boss and I are very curious about the writer of your paper. From what I can tell, there’s only one—”

“There are two now,” Violet stated. It was maybe a bit presumptuous to assume Mor would let her write articles for The Fairy Post, but he had said he wanted her to keep it alive. She hoped that meant she’d get to write.

“Ah. Two, then. Well, we’d love to interview them both. Is there a time that might work for The Fairy Post journalists to come to our station and do an interview for our online video channel? We’ll also have it featured on our blogs.” What he didn’t add aloud was,“And we’ll make sure we twist your words and write nasty things about you so no one wants to read your paper anymore.”

“Unfortunately, we only work with print,” Violet said.

“Wait… Seriously?” Fil wasn’t even hiding his annoyance now.

“But my boss is telling me to formally inviteyouto be interviewed byus,” she added.

There was a pause. “Well, we don’t normally get interviewed… Is there any chance I can speak to your boss directly?” Fil had the nerve to ask.

Violet took a deep breath and tried to let it out without blowing into the phone. “I assure you; this is what he wants—”

A hand came around her and lifted the phone from her fingers. Violet turned and shrank beneath the pair of cold, turquoise eyes glowering down at her. The guy put the phone against his pointed ear. “This is Mor, owner of The Fairy Post, mediocre writer, and terrible friend. How may I help you?” His voice was intimidating and authoritative, like he could convince the masses and become the city mayor overnight if he wanted. Or like he was the real boss around here, not theKateandLilypeople.

Violet’s mouth parted. She didn’t know if Mor would want her to snatch his phone back or if she should just let this happen. It wasn’t like she could take on this tall, muscular, turquoise-eyed fairy by herself. Her eye caught on his small metal name tag that said: CRESS.

Cress grunted into the phone in response to something. “Don’t be preposterous, you fool. Only the truly gifted can handle being on a human internet show. I would know,” he stated, and then, “Wewill interviewyou, or there will be no interview at all. You decide.” Cress handed the phone back to Violet.

Violet blinked as she slowly returned the phone to her ear. She cleared her throat before she spoke again. “If you’d like to come to our office, we’d be happy to feature The Sprinkled Scoop in our newspaper. With our own narrative, of course. The way you’re written into our articles solely depends on whether or not we like you,” she said. Her mouth found its smile again.

Justice.

Fil didn’t say anything for several seconds. “Uh… I’ll have to talk to my boss,” he finally spat out when he found his senses.

“Please do. I’ll be awaiting your call, Mr. Selemini.” Violet hung up. She inhaled and let the breath out slowly.

She was going to need a new dress and some awesome heels. If she was going to face her journalist nemesisandher former boss, she had to look like she was killing it in life.

“You’re welcome.” Cress turned and went back into the kitchen, flicking sugar off his sleeves.

Shayne untied his apron and hung it up in a narrow hallway by the door. “Farewell, pretty human. Don’t think that just because I’m not here, I won’t know if you step outside. Dranian will call me,” he warned. He cast a look toward the back of the café where the auburn-haired fairy came out of the stairwell. He returned a small nod like he was reporting for duty, and with that, Shayne left.

The moment the white-haired fairy disappeared down the street, Violet set her sights on Dranian. From the start, he’d been the quietest. The crankiest too, it seemed. Yes, he must have been the weakest link.

Violet approached him and grabbed her forehead. “I’m not feeling good,” she admitted. “I think I need my medicine.”

Dranian looked her up and down. “You need nothing, Human. Your rhythms are fine, and you’re lying off your human tongue.”

Violet braked her damsel in distress act. She dropped her hand from her forehead. “Okay, but seriously, I do have a condition that I need supplements for. I may be fine now, but in the morning, I’m going to get really desperate. Can’t you just take me to my house foroneminute?”

The fairy only growled in answer.

Violet didn’t think she’d be able to sleep in one of the chairs by the fireplace, but she was miraculously out like a light the moment she flopped down into it. Whether it had been the day that had pumped her with adrenaline only to crash later, or the plushness of the chair, or the warmth of the fire on her toes, she’d gotten the best sleep of her life.

She woke up from a wild fairytale dream about a handsome mythological journalist that turned out to not be a dream at all.

“You’ve got to be joking,” she muttered to no one in particular as vertigo rushed in. She slapped a hand to her forehead and leaned forward on the chair. Haze clouded her thoughts, and her stomach squeezed, pain leaking through it and burning her insides. “I’m such an idiot.”

She’d had two options yesterday—stay with these weirdo fairies or run for the door.

She should have run for the door. Nothing was worth feeling dizzy and sick like this in the morning. She turned to shout at whoever was around. “Hey!” she called. “I need my supplements! It’s an emergenc—”

---