children who need us. We live on pollen and morning dew, gossip and an occasional mosquito. What will I do, Dusty? I need you and Dick. Without you, I am nothing. Without you two, it’s as if I don’t exist.”
“I’m not a child anymore, Thistle. I’ve grown up. Now you need to do the same.”
“But I can’t. Pixies can’t grow up. We just wither away and die when children stop believing in us.”
“I still believe in Pixies, Thistle. I’d go insane if I didn’t hold our friendship deep in my heart.”
Ten
“H AYWOOD, WHY ARE YOU SITTING at your desk?” Phelma Jo tapped her foot in annoyance, hands on hips and chin thrust forward. Her first husband had told her he was afraid of her when she took that pose.
Haywood maintained that strange frozen pause when she finished speaking. Then he answered her as if no time at all had passed. “I’m at my desk checking on some local ordinances . . . I’m checking on some local ordinances before you file documents on your latest project,” Haywood replied calmly, flashing his heartstopping smile. “It’s Saturday. No one will be in City Hall to notice me snooping through their databases and City Council minutes. I don’t think we’ll be bothered with state laws unless someone knows where to complain and bothers with acres of paperwork.”
“I need you to go to the museum and get me my invitation to the Ball,” she reminded him.
“I will be on Desdemona Carrick’s doorstep thirty seconds after she opens the doors to the public.” He returned his attention to his computer screen and frowned.
“What?” Phelma Jo demanded.
“Just a law we’ll have to get the City Council to override. I’d rather manipulate the mayor into signing off on the project before taking it to the City Council. But his authority may not extend to this.”
“The self-serving bastard is retiring. Our less-than-illustrious mayor is always vulnerable to bribes. I’ll take care of the override.”
“If anyone finds out what you did, you could be vulnerable to fines and possible jail time. That would make you ineligible to run for mayor.”
“Not to worry. I’ve got the mayor under my thumb. My name will never come up in an investigation. If there is one. I’m running for office because I can’t be bribed or blackmailed. All my misdeeds are common gossip. Only half the gossip is true.”
“In the meantime, the City Council is restless and in a mood to override the mayor. Let’s see if we can divide and conquer a committee of five. I’ll just work on the wording of our filing until the museum opens.”
“Haywood,” Phelma Jo said softly.
“Yes?” He turned half his attention back to her, still typing, still keeping one eye on his screen. “Yes?”
“Look at me when I talk to you!”
“So you can intimidate me into adoring you?” This time he turned his smile on her full force. His gaze locked onto hers.
Phelma Jo read his admiration in his expression and knew it was all fake. He loved only himself and his agenda. She was his tool.
Life in Phelma Jo’s world wasn’t supposed to work that way. Her employees needed to obey her agenda.
So why couldn’t she bring herself to fire him on the spot?
“Don’t worry, Phelma Jo. We’ll bring Desdemona Carrick and her brother down in a wave of humiliation so deep they’ll never show their faces in your town again.”
“You promised to break her heart.”
“Winning Dusty’s heart is extra fragrance in the flowers, or a twist to the mushroom high. Or a twist to the mushroom high.”
Odd phrase, that. And why did he keep repeating himself?
She smiled to herself. A flaw. She didn’t know what it meant or why he did that, but it was a flaw she could exploit to deepen her control over him.
“There is a weed in the knot garden, Mr. Newberry,” Samuel Johnson-Butler, PhD said, looking over his half glasses toward Joe.
Dusty’s face flamed. The herb garden was her responsibility. She should
“I’m not a child anymore, Thistle. I’ve grown up. Now you need to do the same.”
“But I can’t. Pixies can’t grow up. We just wither away and die when children stop believing in us.”
“I still believe in Pixies, Thistle. I’d go insane if I didn’t hold our friendship deep in my heart.”
Ten
“H AYWOOD, WHY ARE YOU SITTING at your desk?” Phelma Jo tapped her foot in annoyance, hands on hips and chin thrust forward. Her first husband had told her he was afraid of her when she took that pose.
Haywood maintained that strange frozen pause when she finished speaking. Then he answered her as if no time at all had passed. “I’m at my desk checking on some local ordinances . . . I’m checking on some local ordinances before you file documents on your latest project,” Haywood replied calmly, flashing his heartstopping smile. “It’s Saturday. No one will be in City Hall to notice me snooping through their databases and City Council minutes. I don’t think we’ll be bothered with state laws unless someone knows where to complain and bothers with acres of paperwork.”
“I need you to go to the museum and get me my invitation to the Ball,” she reminded him.
“I will be on Desdemona Carrick’s doorstep thirty seconds after she opens the doors to the public.” He returned his attention to his computer screen and frowned.
“What?” Phelma Jo demanded.
“Just a law we’ll have to get the City Council to override. I’d rather manipulate the mayor into signing off on the project before taking it to the City Council. But his authority may not extend to this.”
“The self-serving bastard is retiring. Our less-than-illustrious mayor is always vulnerable to bribes. I’ll take care of the override.”
“If anyone finds out what you did, you could be vulnerable to fines and possible jail time. That would make you ineligible to run for mayor.”
“Not to worry. I’ve got the mayor under my thumb. My name will never come up in an investigation. If there is one. I’m running for office because I can’t be bribed or blackmailed. All my misdeeds are common gossip. Only half the gossip is true.”
“In the meantime, the City Council is restless and in a mood to override the mayor. Let’s see if we can divide and conquer a committee of five. I’ll just work on the wording of our filing until the museum opens.”
“Haywood,” Phelma Jo said softly.
“Yes?” He turned half his attention back to her, still typing, still keeping one eye on his screen. “Yes?”
“Look at me when I talk to you!”
“So you can intimidate me into adoring you?” This time he turned his smile on her full force. His gaze locked onto hers.
Phelma Jo read his admiration in his expression and knew it was all fake. He loved only himself and his agenda. She was his tool.
Life in Phelma Jo’s world wasn’t supposed to work that way. Her employees needed to obey her agenda.
So why couldn’t she bring herself to fire him on the spot?
“Don’t worry, Phelma Jo. We’ll bring Desdemona Carrick and her brother down in a wave of humiliation so deep they’ll never show their faces in your town again.”
“You promised to break her heart.”
“Winning Dusty’s heart is extra fragrance in the flowers, or a twist to the mushroom high. Or a twist to the mushroom high.”
Odd phrase, that. And why did he keep repeating himself?
She smiled to herself. A flaw. She didn’t know what it meant or why he did that, but it was a flaw she could exploit to deepen her control over him.
“There is a weed in the knot garden, Mr. Newberry,” Samuel Johnson-Butler, PhD said, looking over his half glasses toward Joe.
Dusty’s face flamed. The herb garden was her responsibility. She should
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