Page 5 of Hotshot Mogul

“Thanks, K, for everything.”

I ended the call and walked toward Anneliese. “Ready, sweetheart?”

She bent over to pick up her purse, giving frat boys a view of her perfect breasts. “Wait, would you sign this to keep the trees?”

“Anything for you, babe.”

I dropped my hand to her shoulder, as if I had a right to. Where did I get off going all territorial on a woman I had just met, who wanted something I wouldn’t give her?

The frat boys signed it and handed it back to her, smirking. Anneliese smiled her thanks as I glanced at it. “I.P. Knightly and Rusty Bedsprings? Really breaks ’em up on Whiplash, huh?” I fucking hated that platform.

“How did you know we’re in Whiplash?”

“Lucky guess. Use your real names, or tell her no and stop wasting her time.”

“You lied.” Her tone was flat.

“Are you even real?” ‘Rusty’ asked. “Seriously?”

She looked scared before she hid it behind her beautiful mask. A truck rolled up. It was the crew I hired to fertilize. I used real grass rather than the fake stuff. The Whiplash boys ambled toward the apartments. At least I was making some rent money off their miserable asses.

As the crew pulled out their gear and sprayed, the color drained from Anneliese’s face. Worried, I took hold of her waist. “Anneliese? What’s wrong?”

“I am allergic to what they spray.”

“Let’s get you out of here.” I mostly carried her to my Jeep and lifted her in. “It’s not far.”

I slid behind the wheel and drove two minutes to the restaurant. She was breathing hard, like she’d sprinted a mile, but her color was back. “Humans lie,” she said. “Isolde, my…boss, said I must remember that.

CHAPTER TWO

Anneliese

I had a hard time in my etiquette classes. Isolde lost patience trying to teach me how present-day humans take food. So Grenmann, who protects the woodlands, took over. Some humans knew the legend of Green Man. He was depicted as a smiling man peering out between oak leaves.

Bruce halted his vehicle in front of a building with a sign that said Callie’s. It was filled with humans sitting at tables taking food and drink. Some humans smiled at him. I saw a sign that read bathrooms in the back. I would need that soon.

“Let’s get the booth,” he said.

Isolde had repeatedly screeched at me to sit with my back straight, although Grenmann argued it was old-fashioned. He said it was okay to press against the back of the chair. I kept my hands in my lap.

A smiling young woman with eyes only for Bruce brought a list of food. “Our app’s down. Nice to see you back, Hotshot.” Her tone was soft and inviting, like a cat purring. An unpleasant human wave of anger rippled through me. Was I jealous? My woman’s body craved an attachment with this man. And so did the woman with her breasts close to his face. I was only here for five days. Isolde said it would be folly to get attached.

Time to get back to my reason for being here. I pulled the petition out of my leather sack. “Would you sign this, Missus?” She wore a name tag that read Livvie. Isolde said to be formal at first.

Livvie looked startled, then angry. “Missus? Who says that?” She took the petition, then stared, open-mouthed, at Bruce. “Paper, really? But she’s…and you’re…” He shook his head, frowning. What had just happened? I stared down at the list of food, determined to make no attachments.

“The oak tree is four hundred years old? That’s amazing.”

“That has not been verified.” Bruce sounded cross. “And it’s ready to fall in the next summer storm. That has been verified.”

“That’s untrue!” I said, drawing looks. “My…its branches are healthy and strong.” I could not speak of the kind multitudes of earth angels who always guarded natural places. Humans knew them as fairies or elementals. Kind fairies tried to protect those tree spirits like me, those rooted in the earth, during storms. It was the other kind of fairies that sought to cause mischief or harm to humans, sometimes at the expense of nature.

Livvie set down the petition without signing her name.

“Excuse me,” I said. I slid out of the booth and walked into the bathroom. After I relieved myself and stepped to the sink to wash, I saw my reflection over the sink. My eyes were the color of violets. My lips were deep pink, like wild raspberries. My hair was honey-colored and hung in waves past my shoulders. My teeth were even and straight. I guessed I would be judged as pleasing to look at. Humans were so silly about that.

A memory of my last lifetime swept over me. Grenmann said they would return. I was smaller then, with long, curly, dark hair and eyes the color of tree bark. There was no reflecting glass at the trading post, only water in which to see your reflection.

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