Page 61 of Perfectly Petite Shorts
“Why?” Annoyance pushed away my earlier embarrassment.
His gaze clinically swept up and down my body. “Dryad?”
I nodded. “What has that got to do with anything?”
“Financial gain is meaningless where dryads are concerned.” Hamish’s tone was cool but not cold.
“So? Just because we’re not power-hungry money addicts doesn’t mean I don’t need a lawyer.” I was at a loss where Hamish was going with this.
“True. However, it has been my experience that dryads have no means of financial compensation for my services. Therefore, you cannot afford to hire me.” There wasabsolutely no judgment in that statement. It was simply fact as far as Hamish was concerned.
His words made me bristle. I absolutely hated how the world worked. Money should have meant nothing, and yet it waseverything. I’d thought a fairy might be different, but I was wrong.
Hands fisted, my nails dug deep groves into my more fragile, humanoid skin. “That’s bullshit.”
Hamish shrugged. “I will not argue the point.”
“Well, I sure as shit will.” Rounding the front desk, I stomped toward Hamish. It was beyond foolish, but when my ire was well and truly lit, common sense flew out the proverbial window. “You have no idea what my situation is. You’re basing assumptions on previous interactions.”
“They are accurate interactions.”
“I don’t care!”
Hamish cocked his head. “So, are you telling me you do have the financial means to compensate my time?”
Heat filled my cheeks. “It depends on what you mean byfinancial.”
Hamish showed a hint of surprise. “I believe the word defines itself.”
“Maybe, but there are a lot of different types of compensation. Not all of them revolve around money.”
Hamish’s lips quirked into a smirk. “And you believe you might have a form of compensation that might appeal to me?”
My flushed cheeks deepened in color, their shade far darker than my light pink hair. “I… That depends.”
“Pray tell, on what?”
Ooh, now he was just making fun of me.“I don’t know.” I gritted my teeth. “Why don’t you give me some options, and we’ll see if we can come to some type of agreement.” I thrust my chin out, refusing to be intimidated by this fairy. Sure, I was an absolute idiot and didn’t feel an ounce of the self-confidence I exuded.This is for Jamila. I repeated her name, praying that if I said it enough, I’d somehow be able to channel her sass.
This time, Hamish’s perusal of my body was anything but clinical. I didn’t think I imagined the heat filling the dark depths of his eyes. But just as quickly as it came, that heat was extinguished.
Turning his head, Hamish asked, “How old are you, dryad?”
“I have a name, and I don’t know why my age is important.”
“Names are inconsequential.”
Rage, red hot and painful flushed my skin. “Namesareimportant. Jamila gave me mine, and I won’t have you disrespect her.” My body shook with anger. Slender limbs sprouted from my fingertips, cherry blossoms blooming along their tips and filling the stale air with their scent.
Hamish inhaled and his eyelids slipped closed. “Jamila? You aren’t a born dryad. You were created.”
“Jamila’s love and magic gave me life.”
“Witch?” Hamish asked.
I nodded as my anger diminished. Spent cherry blossoms fell to the ground as my limbs receded. “She is. Was,” I corrected. Memories of Jamila sitting under my canopy, her head tilted to the sky as she inhaled the scent of my blossoms filled my mind. Those memories were an aged jumble. I could see the young child Jamila had been the first time she’d sat at my roots along with the last image—Jamila’s wrinkled and weathered face as she’d lain beneath my canopy breathing her last. Jamila had made certain I’d lived far longer than a cherry tree should and her dying breath had twisted my very makeup. No longer simply a tree, but a dryad. I now had a humanoid form along with my cherry tree one.
Hamish nodded as if he understood. “Your tree form isolder, but your humanoid, dryad form is much younger. How long has it been?”
