“Yeah, that did come up.”
“Right, and she definitely isn’t rich. Not now. It was always her family who had the money. Not her. That doesn’t matter, does it?”
“No, not at all. I must have just gotten the wrong vibe is all. She just spoke so crisply and had an air of confidence about her. The kind that usually only comes with knowing you can buy anyone or anything that annoys you and destroy it three times over.”
“Wow.”
“What?”
“You got some rage, bro.”
“Sarah just reminded me of some of the rich bi—rich ladies I have known.”
“How many have you known?” Cammy asked, sounding concerned.
“I-I have to get back to work,” I snapped, sitting bolt upright.
“Right, okay,” she said gently, backing out of the room.
She wasn’t scared. Not really. My sister knew I would never hurt her. It was just that she knew better than to press me when I shut down. We would see each other again at quitting time, and everything would be sweetness and light like it always was.
Work really was the great cure-all. Even when I didn’t have anything I needed to do for a client, I worked on my own art, just for fun. I was getting into sigils at the time. It was tough going at first. Even someone with my skill ran into trouble when it came to turning letters into elegant, flowing shapes. I kept at it, and I had started coming up with some pretty good stuff. Camilla suggested I do costume ones online. People would send me their desires, and I would do a sigil for them in the form of a painting. It was a good idea, but I didn’t have quite the motivation to try it. I had spent so much of my life driven by ambition, only to crash and burn. I hadn’t fallen into full-on nihilism but was mostly just trying to get by one day at a time. As a wise man once said, “any day above ground is a good day.”
I was almost feeling good, at least better than I had for a while. All my client work was done, and I had crafted three eminently serviceable sigils. It was mostly in the art of the thing that I was interested, though I had to admit that they really did seem to have a power all their own. One that went well beyond their considerable aesthetic appeal.
Setting down my pen, my hand getting a bit sore again but not enough to dampen my mood, I rolled out from behind my desk and went out into the main office. Most of the other guys had left. Only Chris’s light was still on. He was almost as much of a workaholic as I was. His wife was a nurse and really seemed to understand his work ethic. It really didn’t seem to be about the money for Chris. It really was the love of the craft. Probably why he was one of the few people I really got along with, except for Aden, of course. I wouldn’t go so far as to say that Chris and I were friends, but there was a certain respect that I had for him afforded to few others. Even Ryan, the owner of the firm who we hardly ever saw because he lived in Texas. Which I supposed was better in a way. Undoubtedly, the pinnacle of hands-off management.
I kind of envied the guys, really. Of the core group, I was pretty much the only one not paired off yet. Though it really was easier said than done when it came to the old feet sweeping romance. The only people I’d ever really loved were Camilla and our mom. Family love seemed to be the only sort of genuine affection I was able to muster for anyone. The bro love I had for Aden was mostly because we had been through hell and back. The main reason I was still alive being Camilla’s love and Aden’s loyalty, not to mention his considerable fighting skills.
“Let’s roll, little one.”
“Where are we going?”
I looked up so fast I actually heard a pop. The voice did not belong to my sweet, little Camilla. It was crisper, airier, much more upper class.
“What happened to Camilla?”
“I sent her home after apologizing profusely for lunch.”
“She’s taking the bus?”
Sarah raised her eyebrows at me. “Oh, goodness, no! I would never do that to an old friend. I gave her cab fare.”
“Where do you get that?” I asked, suspicious.
“The same fantasy world where I could afford the brochures I ordered.”
Camilla was telling the truth. Sara really wasn’t rich. At least not at this point. What more, she seemed to have a sense of humor about it. Maybe things would work out alright after all.
Chapter Four
Sarah
I really hadn’t planned to show up. The whole situation was so strange like some kind of fairy tale or worse, a rowdy Shakespearean comedy like A Comedy of Errors, embarrassing hilarity likely to ensue. Yet, I still just couldn’t stay away. There was something about Cooper that pulled me to him—like a moth to a bulb. I was drawn into his light like some kind of natural force. One that was strong enough to override everything that I usually felt. Plus, he was Camilla’s brother, though, that really didn’t bother me as much as it might have. If anything, it served as another connection between us when viewed from a particular perspective.