Chapter 10
TEN
ALEXANDER
“...and he was walking funny, so I think all of his hair was growing…everywhere,” Emerik says with a cute grin. He’s working through his second piece of tiramisu, so I guess he liked it. It’s so nice to have someone else enjoying my cooking for a change.
“No way,” I ask, trying to picture it. “Even down there?”
“I didn’t see for myself, but his beard was down to his knees and his arms looked like a yeti, so I’m thinking so. His pubes must have been equally luxurious.”
His eyes sparkle as he tells the tale. It’s obvious he loves his work, and equally obvious that magic often has a mind of its own. I suppose he feels guilty about the misfiring of my meet-cute potion, but he’s putting on a good face.
“Tell me the press wasn’t there,” I say, laughing even though I shouldn’t be. That poor guy.
“Afraid so.”
“And they caught it all on camera?”
“He drank the potion right before he accepted the award. He was just a local celebrity, but you can still find videos on the internet if you know where to look. I told him to apply it topically, not drink the whole bottle, but he wasn’t the sharpest tack in the box.
Fortunately, it settled down after a few haircuts, so it didn’t impact our business at all.
In fact, we picked up tons of new clients.
Hair tonics are currently our best sellers. ”
“Thinking about it, I know a few bears who would be into this.”
“Got it covered,” Emerik says with a wink. “We have a bunch of furries on our client list.”
Somebody knocks at the door, but we ignore it this time.
We’ve already had two other people at the door, the building manager and the fellow from the apartment below, asking about the noise from the police action.
Both, unsurprisingly, made a pass at me.
I’ve been in the building for years and haven’t said three words to either of them, but now, with the help of this potion, suddenly I’m hot property.
“So tell me about your work,” Emerik says.
“Not much to tell,” I say. “Plumbing is physical and practical—what you see is what you get.”
Emerik says, “I’m sure there’s more to it than that, but I must say, I like what I see.”
Flirting! I was hoping he would. I don’t have any funny stories to tell, like Emerik does…but thinking about it, that isn’t true.
“Actually, you wouldn’t believe the things I’ve fished out of drains and toilets.”
“Rings?” he guesses.
“Of course, more than I can count, and one time, I found a bunch of keys. But how about a dildo?”
“No way. How did it fit?”
“Tightly,” I say with a knowing look. “Seriously, I think the guy was trying to hide it from his girlfriend and kept stuffing it further and further down. That was a tricky one.”
“How did you…” Emerik starts, but then we’re interrupted by the building fire alarm.
I launch into my well-worn fire drill. Leash for Max, wallet in pocket, check the door for heat, and hurry off to the stairs (not the elevator).
I grab Emerik’s hand and join the stream of people rushing down three flights and out the front lobby doors.
There’s no visible fire, but we smelled smoke as we passed the second floor.
Probably a kitchen fire, but it always pays to heed the warning.
When we get to the sidewalk, crowded with milling residents, I realize that I’m holding Emerik’s hand rather tightly, and he’s looking down at our hands, grinning.
I’m perfectly fine with this—his hand feels great in mine—but naturally, my phone picks exactly that time to ring.
I release him and fish my phone out of my pocket.
When the number pops up, it’s my brother-in-law.
Nope. No way I’m answering that call while I’m under the thrall of this potion.
Between the police raid and the fire scare, I’m getting seriously worried. I’m afraid I know what’s going on…and it’s bad news.
“Seems like the potion gods are angry with me,” I say to Emerik as the fire truck arrives. True to form, one of the hunky firemen nods to me as they’re heading in the front door. “Do you think the potion just smoked us out of hiding?”
“I was thinking the same thing,” Emerik answers, looking guilty. “You’re probably right: hiding away isn’t an option. The potion is fighting back, so sleeping pills might lead to problems.”
“Problems like paramedics,” I say, then I make it a joke, since what else can I do?
“Hunky paramedics, naturally, and at least two or three, so I’d have some choices.
A blond, a brunette, and a ginger, but alas, I wouldn’t be able to enjoy them, since I’d be Sleeping Beauty, waiting for my true love’s kiss. ”
Emerik sums it up. “Looks like there’s nothing to do but bite the proverbial bullet and tough it out.”
“Yep, it’s time to face the music,” I say. “Or rather, face the magic.”
He jokes, “Take it like a man, or rather, take your choice of men, please.”
“You know,” I say, struck with a sudden inspiration. “I think that’s exactly what we should do.”
Maybe it’s time to stop fighting and start living. Emerik has given me a crazy and creative opportunity here, so it’s time to have some fun with it, and even better, have some fun with him.
I pull out my phone and call for a car. I don’t dare drive us anywhere myself—that would be inviting far too much opportunity for dangerous magical mischief. Emerik stands there and watches, looking confused, as we wait for the driver.
“Bear with me,” I say as I grab his hand and drag him and Max into the car. “We’re going fishing for romance tropes.”
He still hasn’t quite figured it out when we arrive at our destination, Balboa Park. It’s very photogenic and it’s Valentine’s Day, so there’s bound to be a wedding party taking photos…and I know exactly where to look.
I leave the driver a hefty tip because he was respectful during his subtle flirting, and soon, I’m dragging Emerik down the central promenade.
I walk straight by the handsome musician playing one of my all-time favorite songs on the violin, dodge around the shirtless hunk on roller skates careening straight at us, and beeline to the botanical building and lily pond.
As I guessed, there’s a huge wedding party taking photos at this classic scenic spot.
The bride is lovely and the groom is tall and handsome, with a smoldering Hispanic charm.
“No way,” Emerik demands, finally catching on to my plans. “You’re not going to break them up. Not on their wedding day.”
“Don’t worry,” I say, nodding to the hulking fellow posing next to the groom. “Think of classic romcom tropes. I have my sights set more on the best man.” Just then, said best man glances our way, and his brilliant smile somehow gets even brighter.
After a few more photos, he wanders over and asks, “Alex, right? I think you helped us at the restaurant a while back when we had a flood.”
“Sure thing, that was me. Nice to see you again. This is my friend Emerik, and maybe you remember Max.”
“How could I forget a plumber who always comes with his friendly doggy? I gotta get back—Ezzy has a shitload of photos planned. Drop by the restaurant sometime and I’ll set you up with something tasty.”
As we’re walking away, I turn to Emerik and say, “Start thinking. Your move is next.”