The Naughty List (20 page)

He shrugged indifferently. “Technically my parents are. What can I say? Integrals are good at business.” He placed The Book on an ornate pedestal in the center of the room.

“You know…” She continued to gape at the brimming shelves. “I don’t have a vault room. The closest I come to anything { togood oldlike this is an old coffee tin where I stash my spare change. What do you do with all this?”

“Nothing much. Some things are for formal occasions or official functions. Mom and Dad aren’t flashy, although they do use the china and silverware for parties. The treasure is just family stuff to us.” He glanced around. “What we own is nothing compared to some of the other Integrals. The Baal’s vault is probably four times this size.”

David picked up a small leather drawstring pouch covered in hand drawn runes. “Hold out your hand.” He undid the ties and poured out antique gold coins. A small loop was welded on the rim of each one. “Langbor’s original stash of loot stolen from the neighbors. The symbols on the bag read, ‘This treasure belongs to Langbor. Touch it and ferple.’”

“Ferple?”

“We think he meant ‘die’, but the handwriting is pretty shaky. He must have been really drunk at the time.” David poured the coins back in the bag except for one. He picked up a delicate gold chain hanging on a hook, slid it through the loop, and then placed the necklace around her neck.

“What’s this?”

“A gift. The sack used to hold more, but family tradition is to give them out to people who are important to us.” With a wicked grin he said, “Not afraid of ferpling are you?”

Rosalie closed her fingers around the coin. “Don’t be silly, there’s no such thing as ferpling. Next thing I know you’ll try to tell me Santa Claus is real.”

David pulled her close. His voice dropped low. “I brought you here to see all this and know what I am, understand where I came from. The past few days were a lot for you to take in, Rosalie. I can’t get away from being an Integral or my duties with The Book. Truth be told, I don’t want to. I’m proud of my family’s responsibility, but if you don’t want things to go any farther with us, I’ll understand.”

Rosalie gazed up at him and wrapped her arms around his neck. Not far away guys met gals in online dating sites with their first date in a coffee house instead of a vault. She didn’t want any part of a normal world. “You don’t see me running for the door.”

David kissed her gently. She leaned into him and her emotions washed over her in a blissful dizzying maelstrom. It was nice. Check that. It was very nice.

“Are you sure, Rosalie?” He nuzzled her ear. “We have rules to follow that don’t make sense and people like Dominic Schiller and others as bad to deal with. Sometimes life feels like I’m stuck in some badly programmed medieval video game. I reach for the restart button, only there isn’t one.”

“Are you trying to talk me out something, before I even get in?” she teased. The nuzzling made her toes curl in an oh-so-pleasant way.

“I want you to have your eyes open—except when I’m kissing you because that’s creepy.” He kissed her again.

David’s cell pinged. With a sigh he pulled back and glanced at the display. “The jet is ready and waiting.” He gently ran his hand through her hair. “I wanted to show you around the city and take you someplace nice for dinner. With this mess with Pearce, I don’t know how often I can get away.”

She kissed him lightly. “I’ll take a raincheck. Call me when you’re able and I’ll keep the corner open in my apartment in case you care to dash-away.”

David glanced toward The Book with a mischievous gleam in his eye. “Want to see your name before we leave?”

“Hell, no,” she laughed, “no {augns t with all my naughty thoughts about the Baal and Stephanie. I didn’t even peek in the car.”

“Don’t worry. The Book is reactive not proactive. The pages only note what someone did, not what someone plans to do. It assumes everyone has free will to change their minds at the last minute. Naughty thoughts do not necessarily lead to naughty deeds. Same with nice thoughts, you actually have to put effort into it.”

“So I can think all the rotten things I want about the Baal—”

“—and still be on the Nice List. With The Book you always get the benefit of the doubt.”

“Still, I better not. There may be a couple of other naughty things I don’t want you to know about quite yet.”

With a grin, David led her outside the vault and reset the combination. After exiting the repository, they held each other tight. The dash-away kicked in. With nary a blink, she and David disappeared.

As promised, the jet was fueled up and waiting. David kissed her goodbye again, a little awkwardly since Malcolm watched from the open hatch. “You two make the cutest couple,” he yelled down. “I’m so happy for you.”

Rosalie swallowed back a giggle. “Who cares about Anthony? The dryads are thrilled.”

David made a face. “Don’t let it go to your head. They’re easily pleased. A grilled cheese sandwich makes a dryad happy.” Before Rosalie boarded they exchanged phone numbers. “Make sure you text me when you get in. I need to know you’re safe.”

That one phrase, I-need-to-know-you’re-safe, lit up Rosalie’s insides like a roman candle on the Fourth of July. Someone cared for her. Someone worried about her, and he would keep her image in his heart even when she’s far away. Just six little words and suddenly Rosalie filled with the happy conviction that her life abruptly and irrevocably had changed for the better.

Before they taxied to the runway, she called Marissa. “Of course, you get your old job back,” her friend declared. “Don’t even ask. Now tell me what’s going on.”

“Not yet. The plane is about to take off. I have to get off my cell.”

“I’ll meet you at the airport.”

“It’ll be after midnight.”

“I’ll get a sitter. Be ready to talk.”

True to her word, Marissa waited on the tarmac when the jet taxied to a halt. Rosalie’s car still sat in the parking lot where she and David had left it. Rosalie grabbed the wheel and took a deep steadying breath. She had no reason on earth for Marissa to believe her, but couldn’t bring herself to lie. If anyone else deserved to believe in a little magic left in the world, a hard-working dedicated single mother certainly did.

Rosalie talked nonstop, spilling everything about David, Integrals, and The Book. By the time she finished the women sat in Rosalie’s apartment. Marissa remained suspiciously quiet throughout the long story.

“Well?” Rosalie demanded anxiously. “Say something.”

“I should take you straight to the nearest psychiatric hospital only…”

“Only what?”

She shifted in her chair. “The story explains some of the weird things happening around here since you left.”

“Such as?”

“The atmosphere at Penrose’s is different. At first I chalked everything up to Stephanie no longer around to tick off the staff, but the change is more than that. Employees wear smiles aga {ar sphein. The economy is in the toilet, jobs hang by a thread, everyone feels the pressure, but people are cheerful. They wear genuine smiles, too—not one of those phony have-a-happy-happy-day grins.”

She spoke ardently. “Money is so tight at home every penny I pinch screams for mercy, but since you found The Book, I’m certain life will get better. Even the customers sense a difference. You won’t believe this but yesterday I saw a baby in a stroller instantly stop crying as soon as the wheels crossed over Penrose’s threshold. It’s as if—”

“All’s right with the world again.”

“Sales are rising. Shoppers pour into the store like they’ve just discovered Penrose’s for the first time. You could blame the start of the holiday rush, but there’s one more thing.” Her voice trembled. “The change in Alex is phenomenal since The Book turned up, as if the medicine waited to kick in. The past few months were so hard for us. For every step forward Alex managed, he stumbled two steps back. Now I really believe he’ll be all right. Tell me I’m not crazy. Tell me a little bit of Christmas magic is left, after all.”

“You’re not crazy. I feel the s
ame way.”

Marissa snuffled and dug into her purse for a tissue to dab at her eyes. “It’s late. I have to go. Take some time off. You need it. I won’t expect to see you back at work until Tuesday. Unless,” she shot her an anxious look, “you’re leaving again for New York. What about David?”

“He’s there. I’m here. We each have responsibilities, but no need to rush the relationship. We will talk on the phone and David will teleport in when he finds time. Now that Stephanie is gone, I want to get back to work.”

“Penrose’s might be a letdown from all your adventures,” chuckled Marissa. “We’re not exactly Santa’s workshop.”

“Nope, but I’m not an E.L.F., and for me the store is home.”

Chapter Twelve

Rosalie chatted happily with David on the phone as she drank her morning coffee. After exchanging texts once arriving home, she and the E.L.F. managed a few rushed phone calls on Sunday and Monday. Rosalie didn’t expect to hear from David until the following evening. To her delight, he rang-in Tuesday with a surprise wake-up call.

He congratulated Rosalie on getting her old job back. “How do you enjoy gainful employment?”

“It’s awesome, especially since Stephanie won’t be there when I arrive. I plan to start a giant bonfire in the middle of Christmas Land and roast marshmallows for the customers while burning every one of her stupid rules. That’s enough about my fun-filled events for the morning. How goes the search for Anthony?”

“Between reports to the wardens, tracking leads, and keeping Dominic off my ass, pretty much my day is booked. I did find out a hellhound named Kaplan hasn’t been seen for a couple of days. He isn’t affiliated with a pack and is a known associate of Pearce.”

“Will you send Billy after him?”

“Can’t. Integral law states his business is his own unless The Book reports he’s exceedingly naughty. So far Kaplan’s nose is clean, but I’m keeping an eye on him and searching for others, too.” Over the phone Rosalie heard a man’s voice calling for David. The E.L.F. sighed. “Gotta go. The Baal needs an update. Have I mentioned Dominic is a royal pain in the ass?”

“Only half a dozen times.” Rosalie eyed the empty corner of her apartment with regret. “I guess a face-to-face visit now is out of the question?” ~9dozen

“I wish. I’m meeting with the wardens later this afternoon, but I hope to dash-away at dinner time.”

Her heart fluttered. “I’ll even cook.”

“You cook, too?” he teased. “Is the food any good?”

“I haven’t killed anyone yet… I miss you.”

His voice softened. “I miss you, too.” A man in the background barked out David’s name again. “Did I mention that I really, really hate him?”

Before Rosalie left the apartment, she slipped on Langbor’s gold necklace. My lucky piece, she thought happily as she bounced down the stairs, humming to herself.

Rosalie finished the third off-key chorus of the latest popular love song by the time she arrived at Penrose’s. Ross greeted her with a massive bear-hug. “I hear we have you to thank for getting rid of Stephanie and Anthony. Marissa was sketchy on the details. I don’t care or even want to know. Understand, you’ve earned the undying gratitude of every employee in the store.” He pulled her into Christmas Land. The broken ornaments and damaged Christmas trees had all been removed. “Check out Santa’s new throne.”

“A futon?”

“Sweet, huh?” Ross crowed. “Marissa and I loaded the old throne into the dumpster and dragged this bad boy down from the furniture department.” He patted the seat cushion. “The futon has much better lumbar support, and the kids like sitting here, too. How did the throne get all busted up, anyway? Never mind,” he suddenly backtracked, “I don’t want to know.”

Marissa’s voice called out from the hallway leading to Stephanie’s old office. “I thought I heard you. Come inside. We need to talk.”

Ross winked conspiratorially. “Better skedaddle. Don’t want to keep the new boss waiting.”

“New boss?” Rosalie burst out in excitement halfway through the door. “For real?”

Marissa shut the door and motioned to a seat. “For the moment. Yesterday, the board asked me to take over while they decide what to do.”

“About Stephanie?”

“About everything.” Her solemn expression belied a woman who just received news of a big promotion. “Penrose’s is in deep trouble. I went through the mess Stephanie left. Apparently the store bled money for years. Stephanie helped it along by pocketing several grand, but Randall was the worst offender. He had his hands deep in the till. Guess how I found out about him?”

“I have no idea.”

“Mittens,” she chuckled. “She demanded to see the latest audit and threatened all sorts of legal action if the board didn’t comply. Apparently, she owns more than a few shares of stock.”

“What does it mean for the store?”

She sunk back into her seat, unable to hide her distress. “I’m afraid we’re nearing the end of Penrose’s.”

Rosalie couldn’t believe what she heard. “That bad?”

Marissa nodded dolefully. “Penrose’s is the red ink on the corporate spread sheet. The board wanted to sell off the store for years. The only reason they held on so long was because Randall dragged his heels and they didn’t want to confront him because of his wife’s connections. Now, the audit discovered Randall used the store as his own personal ATM. He stole hundreds of thousands. The board has every right to press charges against him.”

“Will they?” Rosalie gasped.

“Mittens do>ssionesn’t think so. Daddy-in-law is up for reelection next year. If Randall sat in central lock-up, the Senator’s campaign would go belly up. The board will score big points if they make everything go away and keep the Senator happy. The first step is taken. Mittens told me Randall submitted his letter of resignation yesterday and sold back his stock.”

“What’s next?”

“The board will seek a buyer, but the only ones with any interest are real estate developers. Penrose’s sits on a prime block in the center of downtown. With the store’s shaky financial standing, the company will make much more money washing their hands of the whole mess and selling the property.” Marissa gazed around the office, eyes filled with regret. “I guess I shouldn’t get too comfortable in here.”