Forgotten Wishes: Djinn Everlasting Book Two Page 3

  “You’re a mind reader?” Oh, shit.

  “No. I don’t have the patience for that kind of curse. No, I hear wishes. Real wishes, wishes that come from the soul. You had one of those yesterday.”

  I didn’t know what to say. I took the safe route and kept quiet.

  “So I am willing to help you achieve that wish.”

  “What’s the catch?” Nothing came for free, ever.

  “I’ll give you exactly what you want. That means there may be things that aren’t always positive.”

  That sounded more like it. Everything too good to be true usually is.

  “So what are you giving me here?” I still didn’t understand how this helped me.

  “What do you want, Xavier? And don’t be your normal self. Tell me what prompted that wish so strongly yesterday. That’s what caught my attention.” He’d dropped down to the point that he looked like he sat on the sofa.

  I got up and sat in a chair across from him. “I want someone who looks at me like Seth looked at Tibby.” Damn, that sounded pathetic as hell.

  “What about how you look at someone else?”

  I started. “I’ve never met anyone like that.”

  “Yet you want someone to behave that way towards you?” Now both eyebrows raised.

  I didn’t like the feeling that I’d give the wrong answer. I didn’t give wrong answers. If they weren’t right, I made things happen, so they were the right answers.

  “Well, yeah.”

  He sighed, and looked away from me, out the window. “That wasn’t exactly what I hoped to hear. Your wish yesterday…well, that doesn’t matter. I have offered to help you, and so I shall.”

  I held up a hand. “Wait, what the hell are you talking about?”

  He shook his head and waved his hand—and more fucking glitter—at me. “It doesn’t matter. I do not go back on my word. You wish to find someone who will look at you the way you saw your friends looking at one another. Very well. You shall find her.”

  “What? When? What, you just wave your hand, and it happens? That’s it?”

  Dhameer sighed. “Pretty much. Djinn are designed to make things happen. Here’s the deal. You’ll meet someone who, if you don’t get in your own way, which seems to be a struggle for you, will look at you the way you wish for. Within the next month, or so. That means you’ll need to pay attention to those around you, Xavier.”

  What the fuck? “I pay attention to everything around me. How do you think I got to where I am?”

  “Alone, scores of broken relationships behind you, and only a few friends? I’m not sure I’d call that success.”

  I could feel my temper rising. First, he breaks in and makes a fucking mess, and then he insults me? People have been beaten down for less.

  “You’ll need to be aware of the new people around you. Can you manage that?”

  “Why can’t you just magic her here, or something?”

  “Because humans don’t value the things that are given to them, unfortunately.”

  “You have a low opinion of the people you’re helping, then. Why bother?”

  Dhameer sighed. “I love humans. I was created to help them. Being free to do what I want doesn’t change that. So I still help them. On my terms, however. I’ve been around long enough to know that outright gifts are not the best choice. So you must be part of this and earn it. She’ll be in your life. It will be up to you to keep her there.”

  This didn’t make any sense. “It’s not really giving me anything at all, is it? The world is full of maybes and possibles. I come across women all the time who could…be the one. How is what you’re offering any different?”

  “You’ll have to take my word for it that it is different. Are you willing to try?”

  He would have been a good negotiator. He didn’t give an inch and matched me glare for glare.

  I shrugged. “Sure, whatever.”

  Dhameer looked at me, and I could swear that for a moment, I saw sadness cross his face. But I blinked and figured I must be imagining things.

  Dhameer

  It felt wrong to gift anything to this spoiled man-child. He had indeed made a wish from the heart yesterday. Even Dhameer had felt a pang at seeing Tibby and Seth together. So it didn’t surprise him that her best friend would feel something similar.

  However, for the first time in a while, he wondered if he’d made a mistake. Tibby had been a joy. The real feeling, the emotion he’d felt from Xavier yesterday had spurred him to make the offer. The fact that it was one more wish from the heart, a wish that counted against the ten thousand—that hadn’t hurt. When he’d met Tibby, he’d had no idea that she would help him reach his goal as well. He was so close. He sighed. He’d help this wish to happen, at least, as best he could.

  Xavier was not as he expected. Now, unlike yesterday, the man acted as though a little boy. Spoiled, unwilling to do anything to help himself. He knew from Tibby that Xavier worked hard, and came from nothing, depending only on himself and his abilities.

  So where had that fallen off?

  “How will I know?”

  Xavier’s voice broke into his thoughts.

  “How will you know what?”

  “How will I know that the woman is the right one?”

  The man had no shame. He wanted the love of another handed to him like something on a platter. Gave no thought to what it took for someone to give that—had no sense that it was a gift, an exchange. Normally he didn’t let the foolishness of humans bother him, but this man did. Only his honor as a djinn, the fact that he knew he’d given his word, prevented him from vanishing and removing all memory from this ingrate shell of a man.

  “You will know. The question is, Xavier, will you see it to know it?”

  Xavier rolled his eyes and expelled his breath in an impatient huff. “Man, you are talking all kinds of crazy.”

  “Well, we shall see, won’t we?”

  Xavier stood up. “Look, if you’re just playing games, get the hell out. I have enough going on without you coming in here, making a damn mess with your glitter and shit, and handing out riddles like they’re candy!”

  Dhameer waved a hand. Xavier stilled in mid-rant.

  “You will remember, but forget,” Dhameer spoke softly. This would be the best way out of this. He’d do what he promised—put a woman in the path of Xavier that would be the relationship he longed for. But since the man had arrogance enough to carry ten men, he’d make him forget this conversation. If Xavier was so observant and so aware of things, let him prove it.

  Sometimes, like now, his temper got the better of him. Dhameer stopped—was this the right thing to do? But then he remembered all that Xavier said and did in the short time since he’d arrived, and how badly it irritated him.

  There was nothing wrong with teaching the man a lesson.

  He waved a hand, and Xavier fell back onto the couch.

  “So be it. You are truly on your own, young man. In spite of you, I wish you luck.”

  The honest sentiment didn’t stop him from making sure more glitter than normal fell to the ground as he left.

  Xavier

  I woke up rubbing my eyes. What the hell? I didn’t normally nap in the middle of the day, and I felt groggy, almost like I’d been drinking recently.

  What had I been dreaming? Something that I wished I could remember. Something I needed to remember.

  Whatever. I got up, still rubbing my eyes. I looked around my loft. “What the hell?” It looked like someone had started a party in here. Glitter everywhere.

  The housekeeper was fired.

  Olivia

  I gazed out the window of the car, not really seeing anything. Momma had been as good as her word. Within mere hours, she’d gotten me booked on a plane, and in a hotel, and every service Elizabeth Arden had to offer. I also had firm instructions not to come home until I’d met her personal shopper, Pilar. All these years, and I had no idea Momma had her shopper.

  “What am I going
to do in New York, Momma?” I spoke quietly.

  She didn’t even look at me from the driver’s seat. Probably a good thing, if I thought about it. “You are going to be pampered as that ass soon-to-be-ex of yours should have been doing all along. When you’re not engaged in personal improvement, you’re going to go to museums, and galleries, and sit in Central Park and be a tourist. You’re also going to flirt as if your life depended on it.”

  I stared. “What are you talking about? I don’t want to talk to anyone, much less flirt with men!”

  “Men are half the human race, sugar. God willing, you’ll find one who deserves you, and make a better choice next time.”

  “Momma…”

  “Sweetheart, you chose a bad horse. Made a bad bet. The nice thing about life is that there’s more than just one race. So look around, see what the other stables have to offer. No one’s sayin’ you have to choose the next horse right this minute, but it will be good for you to see what else is out there. Look at it as practice.”

  “I’m still married, Momma.” I couldn’t handle her easy acceptance that my marriage had ended.

  “Not for long, and by the time you get back, Lloyd and I will have things close to settled. Royce won’t know what’s hit him.”

  We’d left Lloyd at my place, drafting my response to Royce’s divorce filing.

  “I’ll also get my PI on him. See exactly why it is he’s trying to take all your hard work.”

  I knew this to be a sore spot with Momma. She and I had started the business before Royce and I got married. He’d been invited to be a partner but declined. I found out later he didn’t think it would fly, nor was he sure we’d last. Well, he got that one right.

  She’d never forgiven him for doubting us. The fact that we had become very successful, to the tune of me making more than he did in IT, didn’t help. At least regarding my marriage.

  Maybe Momma was right. I’d backed the wrong horse.

  It felt like shit to put it in those terms. To simplify my marriage down to the idea of “backing the wrong horse.”

  “All right, sugar. Here you go. I booked you first class on both legs. I am sorry, though. You’ll have to transfer in Washington. I do hate Dulles! They always have your flights on opposite ends of the airport!”

  “Momma, it’ll be fine. Thank you. I love you.”

  She kissed my cheek, and then kissed me again. “I love you too, sugar. It’s gonna be fine. I promise.”

  I nodded and got out of the car before tears showed up.

  The flight from Nashville was uneventful. First class was nice. I didn’t usually fly it because, in spite of my business success, I wanted to keep costs low. Additionally, Royce…I thought about it. He got jealous if I used any perks that came with being good at my job. I represented talent, and at times, that meant that I got tickets to shows, or some fun thing because of my clients. We were always “busy.” What that meant, in reality,, was that I worked to assuage Royce’s ego.

  Is this what Momma had seen? Is this why not only was she not surprised but she encouraged me to move on? Because he’d been the wrong horse for a long time, and shit on me with alarming regularity?

  Shame washed over me. He had been actively shitting on me. I’d been so accustomed to it I didn’t even notice. That was all me. Much as I’d like to blame Royce. What a lowering realization.

  Lost in my thoughts, I made my way from my plane to the one headed for New York. Momma was right. It was on the other side of the terminal. Or so it seemed.

  I settled into my seat, pulling out my earbuds. I didn’t want to think about how I’d had a hand in the mess I found myself in. Watching videos or reading would allow me to pretend all the thoughts I’d been realizing were back in a box behind a closed door somewhere.

  The flight attendant moved down the row. He leaned in toward me across the empty seat. “Can I bring you anything? I’ll be by again after we take off as well.”

  I shook my head, and he moved on. I hoped the seat next to me would remain empty. On the flight from Nashville, I’d sat next to a man determined to converse. Only by turning to the window and blatantly ignoring him did I make it clear I wasn’t interested. I’d thought I’d heard a muttered, “Bitch” but I ignored that, too. Who cared what some jerk I’d never see again thought?

  I would never again be at the whim of a man, not even to be polite.

  Unfortunately, as the attendant was going through the small cabin and closing the overhead compartments, I heard heavy footsteps. A very tall man threw himself into the chair next to me. He had a hoodie and sunglasses. He also had, I noted, really nice, high cheekbones. I’m a sucker for high cheekbones.

  The hoodie and glasses suggested he wanted peace and privacy as much as I did. I turned my shoulders towards the window and my attention back to my tablet. The airline offered free Wi-Fi, and I clicked on YouTube and made sure my earbuds were secure in my ears. Hopefully, all this body language would save me from being called a bitch again.

  A video popped up by my favorite artist, XTC. I know, I know, what’s a nice southern girl doing liking a foul-mouthed bad boy, and a rapper to boot? We’re all supposed to be fangirls of the Grand Ol’ Opry, and nothing else.

  Or so Momma says. This is one of the things I ignore from her. I loved the guy. I loved that he yelled out his anger, or frustration, or whatever it was that he felt at the moment. I realized that I envied it. That freedom. Whatever it was, I loved XTC’s work.

  That thought slid dangerously close to in-depth thinking, and I wanted none of that. My seatmate stopped the attendant as he walked past our seats.

  “Can I get a whiskey? Best one, whatever you have, please.”

  I could hear him even over the music of the video. Whiskey sounded good.

  “Make that two, please!” I said before I’d even had a chance to think about it.

  Hoodie turned to me. “Good choice.”

  I saw a wide grin with white teeth. Full, red lips.

  “I’ll need to wait until we reach altitude,” the attendant said apologetically.

  Hoodie waved. “No worries.” He pulled large headphones from around his neck and situated them on his head, all under his hoodie. His glasses didn’t move either.

  Impressive. Then I realized that I was staring at him. How embarrassing! Hopefully, my mouth wasn’t open. I ducked my head down quickly. Thank God for electronics. I stared at the tablet, feeling my face flush with warmth. The next video in the feed opened. Another XTC song.

  Trying Again. That song had so little in common with the rest of his stuff, but it was one of my favorites. The lyrics seemed particularly meaningful now. I’d have to learn to try again, once I made it through whatever happened in the next six months.

  Oh, God. The thought of what would happen next made me lean back in my seat. I had no illusions of Royce and me being able to sort things out in a civil fashion. He would hate Lloyd as my attorney, and hate Momma’s involvement. It would make him meaner and nastier to me. Add that in with his request to be supported—I couldn’t even get into my indignation over his nerve—and this would be ugly.

  Which only made me want to slap his face until his head spun. This whole damn thing promised to be a downward spiral into the messiest thing possible. Why would he want such a thing? How could he, if he loved me?

  Because he doesn’t, a hateful whisper came back. He hasn’t for a long time.

  It felt like something hit me across the solar plexus. How long had that lack of love been there? How long had I ignored it?

  I could feel tears pooling at the corners of my eyes. It sucked to be handed divorce papers. It sucked even worse to realize that you couldn’t just blame it on your asshole soon-to-be-ex and be done with it.

  For the first time, I hoped Momma and Lloyd found something really good on Royce. Something that would move this process along, and let me blame him like I wanted to.

  I felt a tap on my arm. I pulled out an earbud and looked over to see that Hoo
die had his headphones around his neck again and held two drinks in his hands. He rattled them invitingly when I looked at him.

  “Here you go.” He handed one towards me.

  “Thanks,” I took the glass and drank a large swallow.

  His smile widened. “Didn’t think anyone needed the drink more than I did right now, but guess I was wrong. You want me to get you another?”

  Yes, I wanted to say, but I didn’t drink hard liquor often, and I still needed to be able to navigate when I got off the plane. “No, I think this will do. But thanks,” I added.

  I wish he’d take off the glasses. I’d love to see if the eyes matched the rest of the face.

  “Let me know if you change your mind. I’ll probably have another.” He smiled, and the lips/teeth combo flashed at me again.

  Then he leaned back in his chair.

  Okay. I guess the conversation is over. Probably better that way. I put my earbud back in and hit replay on the video.

  Xavier

  The woman next to me is hot. She is also on the edge of crying. I’d been around enough crying women to know when it was coming. At least this time the tears weren’t directed at me. Which made a nice change.

  Women like her didn’t drink in the middle of the day on airplanes. I might have a slew of car-wreck relationships behind me, but I knew that fact as well as I knew myself. She was on the edge of something.

  Normally, I didn’t notice this kind of thing, but ever since the wedding, I’d been seeing people—especially women—differently. Like, with more interest in their lives. I didn’t know what to make of it.

  Back to the hottie next to me. I let my eyes slide over to her. She stared at her tablet, where she watched a video of…oh, holy fuck.

  Me.

  A fan. She’s a fan of XTC.

  I’m not sure where that falls on the scale of good versus bad. All my relationships usually begin with meeting a fan. But, in the spirit of being honest, the women that make up my exes probably are not the most stable, or put together of women. Neither am I, if I’m still being honest.