In the three days since I dropped my Poppy-guise, Tate hadn’t spoken to me. I didn’t even know if he’d looked at me since he no longer sat at the bar, instead taking a table and letting our new waitress serve him. Jen had started that same day and with her midnight hair and moonlight skin had all the witches vying for her attention while the bears ambled around happy for her to just smile at them. Dulcie still held the bulk of their attention though and had them puffing up their chests and banging their heads together.
As for the wolves, I was surrounded. They sat at the bar and growled and postured and I couldn’t really complain because they kept their distance and they tipped so well. My boss Ben the wolf cub kept looking at me and shaking his head. He couldn’t believe I had fooled him so well though he did like to pretend he’d known something was different about me.
I’d heard him mutter to himself, “Trust your instinct Ben,” more than once.
Good advice, great really. I should trust mine too. Except I didn’t want to run anymore. I was ready for the happy ending, not the fairy tale one where the wolf runs away or gets slaughtered. No, I wanted the Notting Hill one or the Sleepless in Seattle one or better yet, The Princess Bride one. I wanted to be swept off my feet.
Instead? I was standing on them all night pouring drinks while Tate kept his distance. I wondered if he didn’t know me after all. I wondered if I’d gotten it all wrong. Most of all I wondered if I should run. There had to be more than a perpetual chase didn’t there? I wanted to believe in happy endings, I really did.