Page 7 of Dottie's Forbidden Wizard
Toto glances at my brothers before answering. "Frank Ozella is trying to rezone the land over here. He wants to build a huge complex, which will ruin Oz."
"What?" I look at my brothers, who all avoid my gaze. "What about the farm?"
"Nothing is decided yet, Dottie,” Granger answers. “Hopefully, he won't win. Hey, Toto, maybe you could make sure your food isn’t as delicious as usual. For us." He winks at her.
Toto smiles ruefully, her cheeks permanently pink from his attention. "I'm sorry I took the job, but it's the only request I've had in over a month. If I don't do it, I'll have to close, and then... I don't know what I'll do.” She hangs her head. “Somebody is sabotaging my business."
"Sabotage? Are you sure?" Nick's voice is gentle as he eyes Toto with concern.
"Who?" Leo demands, looking like he's ready to burn the world down.
Toto waves them off. "It’ll be fine. We'll get through tomorrow night, and we won't be overly nice to any of them, right, Dottie?" She looks at me for confirmation.
"Right." I nod, but no way in hell am I letting this go.
Chapter four
Dottie
After a fitful night of sleep, I wake early with only one thought on my mind: I can't let Frank Ozella destroy our land.
After Toto left last night, I gleaned more information from my brothers. Frank Ozella wants to bulldoze the land from the Ogre Swamp to the border of the Gillikin ward, stopping only where the forest and rough terrain grow too wild for tourism. The project won’t just wipe out my brothers’ farm and land; it willuproot nearly a sixth of Oz’s population and threaten our culture with an influx of human-world tourism.
Before I've had my coffee—which should be a massive red flag to slow my roll—I find myself following two linen trucks through the front gates of the Ozella compound. So many people come and go that nobody bats an eye as I drive my dented little hatchback up the front drive.
I get out before I change my mind and storm up the expansive front steps to the gaudiest-looking door I've ever seen. Gold upon gold upon gold. It's ornate, but still looks cheap. Freakishly large phoenixes with tortured eyes jut out on either side as if trying to escape. They’re as hideous as they are terrifying.
Where is the freakin' doorbell?
I poke at the wall around the door like I'm an alien on a new planet.
Eh, if the shoe fits.
Finally, I give up any sense of decorum and simply pound on the monstrosity with my fist.
A smaller hatch opens at the top of the massive door, and a mustachioed man with round spectacles appears. His gaze is fixed on a clipboard as he barks, "Deliveries 'round the back."
"Wait!" I call out as he prepares to shut the hatch. "I need to speak to Frank Ozella."
"Is he expecting you?" The man still doesn’t deign to look at me.
I pause for a ridiculously long time with my mouth open before saying in a loud, clear voice, "Yeppers."
The man finally turns, his pronounced mustache twitching as he eyes me over the top of his glasses. His gaze roams over my ripped jeans and the Care Bears T-shirt I hastily threw on this morning before dropping to my rhinestone-studded skull sneakers. He meets my gaze for one moment, then closes the little hatch with a loud slam.
Before I can think better of it, I bang on the door, bruising my hand in the process.
The little door finally opens again, and I glare up at the man with my hands on my hips. "I want to meet with Frank Ozella. Please," I add through gritted teeth.
"Young lady," the man sneers down his nose at me, "we are preparing for tonight's ball. You need to leave."
"No!" I yell loudly, knowing I’m giving him further reason to dismiss me, but also keenly aware that rich people are afraid of loud poor people.
"Oh, for goodness’ sake, they aren't even home! Go!" The man shuts the door with such force that I know he won't open the door again, no matter how hard I bang on it.
I kick the fancy driveway rocks in frustration as I head back to my car. When I open the driver's door, I glance at the garage and freeze.
Maddox Ozella sits atop a motorcycle, looking like sex on a plate, staring at me.
