Bonus Epilogue
ONE YEAR AFTER THE HEARTBEATS TOUR
Based on my history of destroying every good thing, I should have known when Mr. Fletcher called me into his office that this would be the day I royally fuck up.
Mr. Fletcher stands behind his desk and slams a paper down before me. “What is this?”
“Broadsheets, sir,” I say, lounging in the chair on the other side of the expanse of mahogany that takes up half his office. “This particular paper is the Cedar Hills Gazette.”
“I’m talking about this,” he says, tapping my black-and-white portrait at the bottom of the front page. “Your interview with Hansel Bonesmith about two of our authors.”
I shrug. “He asked for insight into everyone’s favorite real-life love story.”
Mr. Fletcher rubs his brow. He’s a burly man with dark hair and a thick mustache. I’ve always considered him a respectful employer, though he is a bit of a stickler for rules. Something I’ve never been too fond of. Unless we’re talking about the rules of a game, bet, or sport. In that case, I’m fully invested. Honestly, I’m surprised he agreed to publish A Portrait of June, Etched in Solace at all, considering it came with a dash of deception.
He lowers his hand and taps the paper again. “You claimed to have played matchmaker for Edwina Danforth and William Haywood during their tour.”
“I did. Well, I think I did. Ask either of them and they’ll say I had nothing to do with it.”
“It’s clear you had something to do with it, thanks to this interview.”
“Thank you. At least someone believes me.”
“That’s not a good thing.” Mr. Fletcher lowers himself into his seat, elbows propped on his desk. “You claimed to have overseen a bet between them.”
“Fact.”
“A seduction bet.”
“Also a fact.”
“You offered to sleep with Miss Danforth.”
I hold up a finger. “Only to make William jealous. She turned me down besides.”
“You assaulted a fae male in an alley.”
“He tried to take advantage of Edwina. I have zero tolerance for such behavior.”
“You smoked drugs.”
I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. Who calls the act of imbibing herbal substances through inhalation smoking drugs?
I don an innocent expression. “You mean Moonpetal? Moonpetal is not a drug; it’s a relaxing fae herb, no different from what’s sold at the market. It just so happens to be unregulated.”
“Then you took them to an orgy.”
“A voyeurism club just so happened to be at the same respectable university party we—is that really what the reporter said? He better not have misconstrued my story.”
He rubs his brow again. “Mr. Phillips, just one of these actions alone is serious enough to qualify for your dismissal from Fletcher-Wilson. This compilation of unprofessional behavior cannot go ignored. How do I know you haven’t done worse during the other tours you’ve managed?”
“I assure you, every tour I’ve managed since has been incredibly boring.”
“Boring,” he echoes. “Are you saying you acted like this for the purpose of entertainment?”
“And the name of love?” I say it with a flourish of my hand, but he isn’t at all amused.
He heaves a sigh. “I gave you this job because I respect your father.”
All former mirth drains from me at the mention of my father. My fingers clench around the arms of my chair. “What?” I say through my teeth.
“He requested I hire you.”
My blood boils hot, and everything inside me seeks to lash out. It’s all I can do to keep my voice level. “That isn’t possible. I didn’t tell him I applied.”
“He knew anyway,” Mr. Fletcher says with a worn shrug. “How else did you think that you—an aristocrat’s son with no work experience—earned the position of junior publicist?”
“My charming personality,” I say, but I can’t force more than a flat tone.
“I promised your father I’d give you a chance, but making a public spectacle of Fletcher-Wilson is the last straw.”
“You’re dismissing me?”
“Yes.”
I’m almost relieved. If I knew my father had any part in getting me this job, I would have quit long ago. Fucking bastard still seeks to control my life, even after I did everything I could to get myself disinherited.
Yet being disinherited means I have no backup plan and no finances should I become unemployed. Not unless I want to return to my father, beg on my knees for him to take me back, and become the perfect son he wants me to be. Keeping his secrets. Pretending he isn’t the person I hate most in this world.
“You no longer have a place at Fletcher-Wilson.”
“Salt in the wound, but thanks,” I mutter.
He glares at me. “But…I may know of a job that may better suit your…inclinations.”
I narrow my eyes. “Is my father involved?”
“I admit, if you weren’t your father’s son, I wouldn’t give a damn, but this recommendation is all mine.” He opens the broadsheets toward the back and pushes it toward me. Then he writes an address on a slip of paper and passes it across the desk. Tapping the top of an advice column titled Ask Gladys, he says, “Go to this address. Third floor. Ask for Charlie Michaels.”
I frown, first at the column, then at the address he’s given me. “What is this?”
“You’re the new Gladys.”
I study the column with fresh eyes. Then I return my attention to Mr. Fletcher. “It’s a romance advice column.”
“For starry-eyed lovers,” he says. “People write this so-called Gladys, seeking answers to relationship conundrums. Your answers are allowed to be somewhat sensational, but please keep things appropriate. I’m recommending you for this position in good faith.”
A twinge of rage pierces me, knowing said good faith is for my father’s sake. It’s almost enough to make me refuse.
And yet…
Me. A romance columnist. Surely, I can stir some mischief and mend some hearts. Not mine, of course, but maybe someone else’s.
“I’ll take it. Thank you, Mr. Fletcher.”
“Great. Now please get out.”
I leaveMr. Fletcher’s office with a skip in my step. Getting fired never felt so good, and I lost three jobs in quick succession before I landed the position here. What great fucking luck I have, and just when I thought I’d ruined everything. Maybe things are turning around for me after all.
I twirl a cigarillo between my fingers as I stride down the hall and through the lobby. The sunlit streets come into view beyond the glass windows?—
“Monty?”
The voice has my lungs tightening, and I steel myself before turning around. At the other end of the lobby stands Daphne in seelie form. She’s dressed in loose trousers, a white blouse with puffed sleeves, and a mauve waistcoat. It makes me uneasy to see her like this. I haven’t witnessed her in her humanoid form since the night of the gala. After we returned from the tour, she was promoted from intern to editorial assistant. With our departments separate and me volunteering to manage as many book tours as I could, we haven’t seen much of each other. I wonder when she started favoring her seelie form.
I tuck my cigarillo behind my ear and shove my hands in my pockets, my posture slouched and casual. “Hey, Daffy.”
Her shoulders are hunched as she strolls toward me. It seems she still isn’t fully comfortable in this body. “I haven’t seen you in a while.”
“Well, this is hello and goodbye. I got fired.”
“Why doesn’t that surprise me?”
“You did warn me,” I say with an easy chuckle. I pivot on my heel. “Well, I’m off.”
“Wait, that’s all?”
I freeze at the frantic note in her voice, though I should have run from it.
She shifts from foot to foot as I turn back to face her. “Do you maybe want to…share a meal? Catch up?”
I saunter closer to her, then lift a hand. She flinches as I pat the top of her head. “Nice knowing you, Daffy Dear.”
Her eyes narrow to a glare. “You really do think of me as a pet, don’t you? Even when I look like this.”
I wink. “A really cute pet.”
“You’re an asshole.”
I give her a mock pout. “And here I thought we were friends. See you around.”
I exit the front doors before I can think better of my cold farewell. Before my chest tricks me into thinking it would be better to feel anything but a void. Before I can hope.
Daphne’s better off if she forgets about me.
And I’m better off if I forget about her.
Edwina and William’sstory may be complete, but Daphne and Monty’s romance is just getting started. Fall in love with the next fantasy romcom in the Fae Flings and Corset Strings series with My Feral Romance.