The Accidental Familiar (Accidentally Paranormal Series Book 14) by Dakota Cassidy Page B
Authors: Dakota Cassidy
Tags: General Fiction
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her rent for four months.
There was nothing cheesy about cash when you didn’t have any. Except until you had to reveal to some rich guy what you’d done for a little cash.
But Rick’s face was blank. “Can’t say I’ve heard of it. Doesn’t mean a thing though. I don’t watch much TV. I don’t have a lot of extra time.”
Poppy shrugged with a self-conscious smile. “Me neither. Mostly because I can’t afford a cable bill, but I probably would have hit the fast-forward on my remote even if I did. I was awful. Plus, I wore Daisy Dukes. Anyone with chicken legs like mine should never wear Daisy Dukes.”
As the words spilled out of her mouth, she reflected upon how pathetic they made her sound. No. In her almost-mid-thirties, she even didn’t own a television. She’d hocked it in order to pay her dry cleaning bill. Sometimes she didn’t even have electricity, but she did have heart, and she could still fit into the Daisy Dukes.
Rick’s posture loosened a bit as his eyes scanned her legs, still in her Paul Stanley costume, before returning to her face, one eyebrow raised. “Daisy Dukes, huh?”
“Probably one of my more embarrassing moments. So anyway, enough about me and my sad television commercial career. As the warlock, you’re the important person in this relationship. This is all about you. So, explain the title developer and why you’re at this particular place today. But before you do, what do the initials ARMD on the side of your van mean?”
“First, it’s not all about me. In fact, my old—” He shook his head, as though he were clearing cobwebs. “This isn’t just about me, Poppy. That makes it sound like I’m some kind of entitled royalty. Which is hardly the case. I was poor once, too, and a familiar-warlock relationship is a team effort. Anyway, the initials are a combination of my name and Avis Mackland. Avis is my partner. You know the story. Old college buddies with a dream.”
Her stomach turned just a little. She didn’t know a lot about developers, other than they usually bought up properties and turned them into high rises. Which didn’t bode well for her little apartment building—a building that had somehow escaped the typical ruin you saw in a place so affordable.
She’d lucked out when an old friend from acting class had nabbed a big part on a soap opera and moved to L.A., offering her lease to Poppy. Back in the day, while she hadn’t been rolling in dough, she’d at least managed to make decent enough money to keep the place.
When the friend’s lease was up five years ago, her landlord had agreed to rent to Poppy, and it had been a struggle ever since. Still, she’d managed until these last three months.
Trying to calm her fears, Poppy rationalized. Maybe Rick did something different than steal from the working class to make a quick buck. Maybe he was just here to see what he could see. There was no harm in checking out new prospects, right? That’s what made the rich richer.
Not that old man Rush would ever sell anyway. This apartment building had been in his family since his father was alive and old man Rush was seventy-two. He loved this place, and so did the residents.
She’d loved it, too. It was one of the cheapest places to live in the city, with a bodega right down at the end of the block that connected to some of the best Chinese food in New York; a park across the street, and her favorite diner right next door to the playground.
Maybe he was just testing the water. “So why are you here today? At this apartment building? Testing the water to see if the guy’ll sell?”
“Nope,” he responded, but added nothing helpful in the way of information.
Poppy cocked her head though inside she was flooded with relief. “Got a friend here? Girlfriend, maybe?”
Now he smiled, and when he did, it was as though the heavens had opened and rained down their special magic perfectness upon his gorgeous head. “No, again.”
God, this was like
There was nothing cheesy about cash when you didn’t have any. Except until you had to reveal to some rich guy what you’d done for a little cash.
But Rick’s face was blank. “Can’t say I’ve heard of it. Doesn’t mean a thing though. I don’t watch much TV. I don’t have a lot of extra time.”
Poppy shrugged with a self-conscious smile. “Me neither. Mostly because I can’t afford a cable bill, but I probably would have hit the fast-forward on my remote even if I did. I was awful. Plus, I wore Daisy Dukes. Anyone with chicken legs like mine should never wear Daisy Dukes.”
As the words spilled out of her mouth, she reflected upon how pathetic they made her sound. No. In her almost-mid-thirties, she even didn’t own a television. She’d hocked it in order to pay her dry cleaning bill. Sometimes she didn’t even have electricity, but she did have heart, and she could still fit into the Daisy Dukes.
Rick’s posture loosened a bit as his eyes scanned her legs, still in her Paul Stanley costume, before returning to her face, one eyebrow raised. “Daisy Dukes, huh?”
“Probably one of my more embarrassing moments. So anyway, enough about me and my sad television commercial career. As the warlock, you’re the important person in this relationship. This is all about you. So, explain the title developer and why you’re at this particular place today. But before you do, what do the initials ARMD on the side of your van mean?”
“First, it’s not all about me. In fact, my old—” He shook his head, as though he were clearing cobwebs. “This isn’t just about me, Poppy. That makes it sound like I’m some kind of entitled royalty. Which is hardly the case. I was poor once, too, and a familiar-warlock relationship is a team effort. Anyway, the initials are a combination of my name and Avis Mackland. Avis is my partner. You know the story. Old college buddies with a dream.”
Her stomach turned just a little. She didn’t know a lot about developers, other than they usually bought up properties and turned them into high rises. Which didn’t bode well for her little apartment building—a building that had somehow escaped the typical ruin you saw in a place so affordable.
She’d lucked out when an old friend from acting class had nabbed a big part on a soap opera and moved to L.A., offering her lease to Poppy. Back in the day, while she hadn’t been rolling in dough, she’d at least managed to make decent enough money to keep the place.
When the friend’s lease was up five years ago, her landlord had agreed to rent to Poppy, and it had been a struggle ever since. Still, she’d managed until these last three months.
Trying to calm her fears, Poppy rationalized. Maybe Rick did something different than steal from the working class to make a quick buck. Maybe he was just here to see what he could see. There was no harm in checking out new prospects, right? That’s what made the rich richer.
Not that old man Rush would ever sell anyway. This apartment building had been in his family since his father was alive and old man Rush was seventy-two. He loved this place, and so did the residents.
She’d loved it, too. It was one of the cheapest places to live in the city, with a bodega right down at the end of the block that connected to some of the best Chinese food in New York; a park across the street, and her favorite diner right next door to the playground.
Maybe he was just testing the water. “So why are you here today? At this apartment building? Testing the water to see if the guy’ll sell?”
“Nope,” he responded, but added nothing helpful in the way of information.
Poppy cocked her head though inside she was flooded with relief. “Got a friend here? Girlfriend, maybe?”
Now he smiled, and when he did, it was as though the heavens had opened and rained down their special magic perfectness upon his gorgeous head. “No, again.”
God, this was like
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