Carmen Ahearn and the Fire in the Clouds

By James Vesping

Carmen Ahearn, private investigator. In the roaring 20s, Carmen and her fairy assistant, Nuala, try to run a struggling private investigation office on the streets of Philadelphia. In the aftermath of the 5th Mage War, the world struggles with the chaos of technology as it displaces the old magical ways. Carmen struggles as she tries to find her place in a world that doesn’t accept her, surviving by the skin of her teeth. But when she accepts a job given to her by an angel, her entire world is turned upside down as she finds not all is what it seems from the glorious heavens to the burning hells...

• Language: English
• Publisher: James Vesping
• Release date: Apr 11, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463874264

James Vesping

James Vesping is a former network technician, having worked in both the private and the government sector. He has worked in software and web development in both professional and hobbyist capacities, including several simulation projects for popular sandbox games. In 2015, he began writing novels as a hobbyist, which turned into a full time job by 2017. You can find him on the web at JamesVesping.com.

Book preview

1

Carmen controlled her breathing, looking carefully through the camera's viewfinder. The low light conditions in which she was shooting meant that she had to brace herself well, or the picture would be blurry – even with the magically enhanced film, which would make the pictures appear as if they were taken in daytime. The client had paid her handsomely for the job and she had to earn her keep; rent was due in a few days and she couldn't afford to miss it. Sink or swim time, she thought to herself, and I don't want to disappoint Nuala. She wants to upgrade the telephone to something more professional than the old box setup.

It seemed to take forever, but Carmen finally got the target in the frame. Pressing the shutter button, the shutter opened for an instant, exposing the film and burning an image to it. The shutter closed and clicked, informing her that a picture had been taken. She again pressed it, getting a second picture of the target. Waiting a bit longer, the target slid over to the bed and started getting comfortable. He then placed his hands on the succubus he had hired for his evening entertainment, intending to get frisky with her. She grinned as she once again took another pair of photos, effectively showing the target's infidelity. Money shots, literally!

As the target started to get into more compromising positions as he got into the act with his escort, Carmen kept rolling the film, taking as many pictures as she could. It was all very obscene and the action in front of her made her blush, but she quickly reminded herself that she had been hired to document the target's adultery for her client – the target's wife. It wasn't a glamorous job, but it was a relatively easy one that would bring in significant monetary gain for her struggling private investigation firm. She had barely put more than a year into her business and it had been very difficult to make a living; women were not considered good for private detective work in Philadelphia, even one capable of detecting and identifying magic as she was.

Carmen sighed and put her camera down, rubbing her hands together to try and gain a little bit of warmth back into them. Fall was only just starting in Philadelphia, making evenings quite uncomfortable as the temperature started falling. She looked at her watch and noted that it was past eight, so she hopped down from the trash can she had been using to see into the apartment window. The can rattled a bit as she got down, causing her to reach out and steady it. She cringed a moment, wondering if anyone heard her, then carefully made her way out of the alley and back out to the street.

Hey! What were you doing back there? a male voice called out.

Carmen froze for a moment as she tried to come up with an excuse. Just throwing something away.

What in the devil's name was it? A box of bolts?! the voice asked.

What do you care? Carmen grumbled back.

The boss warned us about unsavory characters spyin' on 'er. And lookin' at that camera, I'd say she was right.

Carmen suddenly felt herself shaking as she weighed her options: she could run, but she only had a vague idea of where the voice was coming from; she could try to fight, but she had no idea if she could handle her opponent.

Well, you caught me. Come and get it, Carmen finally said, lifting the camera off her neck by the strap. A few footsteps came forward and Carmen finally got a good look at her opponent: he was an incubus, apparently doubling as a guard for the succubus that Carmen had just snapped pictures of. He was impeccably dressed, with sharp black shoes, a pinstripe suit, with a black fedora on his head. His suit apparently had cutouts for his wings, which is why his manner of dress seemed odd to Carmen.

Nice suit. Where'd you get it? Carmen asked.

20th Street. Small tailor there. Paid 'im a pretty penny for it, The incubus smugly replied.

Carmen grinned. So, how much for a night with you? I'll bet you're fun.

The incubus chuckled. You can't afford me, lady. Besides, I've gone legit; I carry a heater and a permit. Guard work pays good enough. He folded his arms. You look pretty nice yourself, by the way.

Carmen did a quick take of herself and compared her manner of dress with the incubus': she wore black shoes, a deep blue skirt that dipped below her knees, a white blouse, a deep blue jacket to match her skirt, and a pair of black stockings to keep her legs warm, while her head was topped by a gray fedora. She also had a small satchel that was wrapped around her neck and sat on her left hip, to carry various items, such as the film for her camera.

Gee, thanks. I dressed like this hoping that it would make me more difficult to see, but it does kinda stand out, doesn't it? Carmen remarked.

Right, but incubi and succubi see very well in the dark. We are, after all, nocturnal creatures, the incubus said, waving his hand. Now, let's see that camera.

Let's see the heater first.

You really want to go that far? Fine. The incubus reached into his jacket, his reddish hand barely visible to Carmen. She used the opportunity to toss the camera at the incubus, causing him to instinctively reach out with both hands to catch the camera. Unfortunately for him, this caused him to pull out his pistol as well, though without a firm grip on it. The pistol went flying forward out of his hand, bouncing across the ground just as he caught the camera in the air. The pistol stopped at Carmen's feet, causing her to carefully bend over and pick up the revolver – a Thurston & Hemmings .38 caliber six shooter, a favorite of small time street thugs.

Carmen looked at the revolver for a moment and then thumbed the hammer back, pointing it at the incubus. This is your heater? Pathetic. I carry an automatic from the war. Bigger bore than this thing, she said in a smug tone, a grin tugging at the edges of her mouth.

Easy! Don't shoot! the incubus exclaimed, holding the camera with one hand and holding his other hand up.

Maybe you'll give me a freebie? Since I'm holding all the cards here. Carmen smiled. I've heard that incubuses can be quite pleasurable.

How about I give you your camera back and you give me my gun back, then I forget I saw you?

Carmen pursed her lips and thought a moment. Hmm. OK, deal. She held the revolver up and hit the cylinder release, then pressed the ejector rod and dumped out all six cartridges from the cylinder. She closed the cylinder and held the revolver out to the incubus, grip first. He took the revolver while holding out her camera, allowing her to repossess it. She held the strap up and slipped it over her head, once again allowing the camera to rest on her chest.

Carmen sighed. Well, too bad. I would have enjoyed the experience of a well-endowed incubus, but I'm afraid I don't have that kind of time or money.

The incubus frowned and shook his head. Lady, it's not all that. Why do you think I went legit?

Good point. Well, remember... Carmen slid her jacket aside to display the pistol she carried on her right hip. I'm still holding all the cards. So don't try to reload and shoot me in the back.

Yeah, whatever. Get lost. I didn't see you and you didn't see me. The incubus stood aside and waved Carmen away. She tilted her hat and began walking away, but stopped and turned around.

Hey, tell me your name, Carmen asked.

What the hell do you... Finnegan! Just Finnegan! the incubus grumbled back.

Pleasure doing business with you, Finnegan. Carmen smiled and turned away, walking down the sidewalk and on the way back to her office, the grumbling coming from Finnegan making her victory all the more sweeter.

-

2

The doorbell rang as Carmen opened the door, her humble office in the Irish quarter of town barely separating itself from the vendors on the street. She tried to carefully sneak into her office, past Nuala, but failed as she heard Nuala speak.

You're late. How many pictures did you get? Nuala asked, sitting up and adjusting the small pair of glasses over her eyes. She fluttered her wings, even though Carmen knew that was just her essence.

Carmen sighed and rubbed her eyes. Full roll of film. I don't even think we'll need the magic enhancement to see everything.

Nuala frowned. You paid full price for the stuff. I don't think it was worth it, but the job should cover it, the rent, and my paycheck. Don't know about your salary, though.

I'll live. Besides, I expect a bonus from the client; I got some pretty compromising pictures of the target. Carmen tapped her camera for emphasis.

Really? Nuala's eyebrows shot up and a mischievous grin tugged at the corner of her mouth. Can I see?

Carmen chuckled and waved her hand dismissively. I think you're too young for that, Nuala. What are you, 19?

Nuala pursed her lips and frowned again. I'm almost 20. Plus, I'm a fairy. We get exposed to that kind of thing early on in life, y'know!

Then it's not like you haven't seen it before, right? Carmen said as she walked to her small sub-office and opened the door.

Nuala turned in her seat to track Carmen as she walked into her office. But you don't get to see succubi ply their trade every day – I could learn a few techniques from her. You know how secretive they are about that stuff!

Carmen turned around and donned her fedora, placing it on the hat rack by the door. Nuala, go home, get some sleep. I'll pay you tomorrow, one way or another.

Nuala sighed and opened her small ledger, making a note of her quitting time. She stuffed the ledger into the bag she carried, which contained all her books and writing materials; she was self-taught, with a sharp mind that was suited to numbers. Were she a human, she likely could have gotten a good paying job with a stock broker or large manufacturer, balancing worksheets and other financial information. If she were a little bit more morally bankrupt, she could easily have become a bookie for organized crime, but she had no desire to get involved in any of that again. As it stood, her status as a fairy – not even one of the cuter, small fairies, but a larger, west German fairy – kept her from finding better work than as a secretary and book keeper for Carmen.

Nuala was about two-thirds the size of a teenage human girl, almost like a miniature human, but far better looking. She was well-endowed and striking in her beauty, which caused many people – both humans and creatures – to do a double take as she walked down the street. Her appearance was only marred by the fact that clothing on her back had to be open to expose the small essence glands that fairies had, allowing her to fly for short distances; no one quite understood how it worked, not even the fairies themselves. Nonetheless, it was a handy ability to have, not requiring any form of magic to get to hard to reach places, further enhanced by their smaller size.

The job that Carmen had just completed was one of the key stepping stones Nuala had arranged, which is why she provided the magically enhanced film – she didn't want to blow their shot at a good payoff for a simple job. The client was a wealthy, high-class wife of a real estate mogul, convinced that her husband was committing adultery behind her back; she didn't have proof of this and so far her husband had been able to cover his tracks somehow – no other private investigator had been able to stay on his trail. Nuala rightly believed that the target was using illegal magic invisibility scrolls to keep himself hidden, which Carmen was able to see right through. While the scrolls were powerful, Carmen knew of a few simple tells that no invisibility scroll or spell would be able to rectify. This allowed her to tail the target and get the elusive proof the client needed.

Nuala took her glasses off and gently cleaned the lenses with her shirt, briefly looking at her mild reflection in the lenses. Her hair was a brunette color, while her eyes were a deep blue, as brilliant as the sky. Her thin eyebrows and light skin contributed to her classical appearance – she would have been considered the ideal fairy, if she were just a bit smaller. And if my vision was a bit better – I've spent too much time with my face buried in books.

Slipping her glasses back on, she grabbed her bag and did a brief look at her clothing, making sure it still looked decent on her way out; she wore a red skirt that went down to her ankles, a custom tailored white blouse with an open back, and a gray jacket with a similar modification, with a set of black shoes to complete her appearance. Her jacket made her feel cold on occasion, which is why she fluttered her essence every now and again, in an attempt to keep her back warm. Trying to get tighter fitting clothing for a fairy of her size was almost impossible, even with all the tailors in Philadelphia – she simply did not have the kind of money needed to afford it. Wearing anything like a cloak or a coat was an exercise in frustration, as nothing would fit over her essence glands; anything that blocked the glands had a tendency to suffocate her. She often wished that human science were able to explain more about fairy physiology, but it simply wasn't a focal point for humans – they were eager to learn more about themselves rather than strange mystical creatures, especially after the 5th Mage War had proven that science and technology were superior to the old magical ways.

Sliding down from her chair, Nuala went out the front office door, locking it behind her; she didn't trust Carmen to lock it, especially since she figured that she would sleep in the office that night anyways. Looking across the street, she smiled at the small coffee shop opposite of the office. Dianoto's Coffee was her favorite place to go and she went there almost daily. It was currently closed, but one of the baristas, Ranieri Pietro, was sitting outside, working on one of his sketches for his art class. Nuala was enthralled by him, but she wasn't quite sure how she could confess her love – she was a fairy and he was a human, related to an Sicilian mobster no less.

Adjusting her jacket and carrying her bag in front of her with both hands, Nuala walked across the street, her shoes loudly tapping on the brick road as she did so. She slowed her pace as she got closer to Ranieri, trying to rotate around to see what he was working on in the dull street light in front of the cafe.

Hey, Ranieri. Late night? Nuala asked.

Ranieri made a couple marks on his sketch, then looked up to Nuala. Yes, miss Nuala. I wanted to get ahead on the chores for tomorrow so I could sleep in more. It's hard for me to get up early; I'm sure you understand.

Nuala smiled at Ranieri. Of course. Carmen is the same way, and traditionally us fairies are nocturnal creatures. There's nothing to be ashamed of. She tried to get a peek at Ranieri's drawing, but he covered it with a blank sheet of paper before she could see it.

Sorry, I'm not ready to show it to anyone yet, Ranieri said, gathering his drawing materials.

Oh, no need to apologize! I completely understand! Nuala replied, somewhat embarrassed.

I didn't mean to offend you, miss Nuala. I'm just self-conscious about this sort of thing; my father never approved of it. Ranieri nervously stuffed his materials into the cloth satchel he always carried.

Nuala felt warmed by Ranieri's apology and she had to fight the urge to reach out and take his hand, declaring her love for him, and asking him to marry her. Her understanding of American social and cultural traditions kept her desires in check however, and she instead chuckled as he fumbled with his satchel. If I wasn't bound by cultural norms, I would let him know exactly how I felt. At least then I wouldn't have to bottle it all up.

Nuala cleared her throat. I'm not offended at all, Ranieri. You don't need to be embarrassed about it with me; I'm not your father. I just find it sad that someone as talented as you are has to work as a barista here.

Ranieri looked up and smiled. It's a living, miss Nuala. Someday, I'll be able to pursue my dreams. That isn't today, or tomorrow, or anytime soon; but eventually, it will come. I simply need to be patient and gain the wisdom to know it when I see it. He reached into his satchel and pulled out a drawing and handed it to Nuala. I made this earlier today, after I saw you in the afternoon. You have such a beautiful face that I could not avoid trying to capture it; I feel it is just as much your drawing as it is mine.

Nuala took the drawing, looking over it as she did so. The drawing was immaculate, capturing every contortion of her face, every small detail about her, right down to her glasses and the smile she had given Ranieri earlier. Her heart stopped for a moment, causing her essence to flutter; when she realized what she was doing, she blushed in embarrassment and looked away.

Oh, sorry! The cold gets to my back. Moving my wings around helps me stay warm. Nuala's tone betrayed her embarrassment, though she hoped that Ranieri would see it for her status as a fairy and not to her feelings toward him.

Ranieri stood and slipped the satchel over his shoulder. Please don't apologize for what you are, miss Nuala. I wouldn't have you any other way. He smiled for a moment and then dropped it when he realized the connotations behind the words he had uttered. Oh, I, uhm... Apologies, miss Nuala – I've kept you late enough. Be careful going home, he said, turning away to walk back to his apartment, trying to hide his embarrassment.

Wait, Ranieri! Nuala reached out, still holding the drawing Ranieri gave her.

Uh, yes, miss Nuala? Ranieri said, turning to face Nuala.

Nuala opened her bag and stuffed the drawing in between the books, closing it and holding her bag with both hands, then looked down at the sidewalk. Would you be so kind to walk me home? Please?

Ranieri tipped his hat and smiled. Of course, miss Nuala. A beautiful creature such as you deserves an escort on this cold night.

Ranieri walked back to Nuala and offered her his arm, which she gladly took – at his wrist, since she was barely half as tall as he was.

Nuala looked up and returned Ranieri's smile. Thank you, Ranieri.

It is my pleasure, miss Nuala, Ranieri replied, maintaining his pace to match Nuala's as he walked her back to her apartment. She once again fluttered her essence, feeling the warmth on her back. A walk home is a slow start – but at least it's a start, she thought to herself.

-

3

Carmen! Time to get up! Nuala shouted as she opened the door to the office, basking the doorway with sunlight. The client will be here soon! She set her bag on the front desk and pulled her scarf off – it was finally cold enough for her to need one, at least in the mornings and the evenings. If I didn't have these cursed wings in my back, I wouldn't have these problems.

Nuala hung her scarf on the hat rack by the door, then turned around to look for Carmen. She still hadn't got up yet, so Nuala let out an annoyed grumble and made her way to the small sub office and gently opened the door. She was greeted to the sight of Carmen asleep at her desk, her face seemingly glued to the desk pad, with a gentle snoring permeating through the air. Next to her face were the developed pictures she took; magic-enhanced film was easily processed compared to standard film. Nuala looked at the pictures and felt herself blush in embarrassment over what she saw. Oh my... They certainly didn't hold back last night. Too bad for the client; she'll probably be sobbing the entire way home after she sees these.

Nuala grabbed the trash can by Carmen's desk, then slammed it on the floor. Carmen screamed and shot up from the noise, grabbing for her pistol.

Artillery! Carmen exclaimed, panic spreading across her face. She came to her senses when she saw Nuala standing by the desk, arms folded, gently fluttering her essence. Carmen signed and sat back down, rubbing her eyes.

I wish you wouldn't do that, Nuala. A gentle tap on the shoulder is more than enough, Carmen mumbled.

'Artillery'? That was your first thought? Nuala replied, raising an eyebrow while looking over her glasses. She then closed her eyes and shook her head. You really need to see a therapist. Or get a date.

Carmen ran her fingers through her hair, pulling it back. Don't tell me you're going to lecture me about that, too. My mother is bad enough as it is.

Nuala opened her eyes and smiled. Which part? The therapist or the date?

Carmen groaned and rolled her head forward, sinking her face into her hands. The 'date' part!

Well, why not? You're almost 30. Shouldn't you be thinking about getting married and having a family? I thought that's what you Irish were all about, Nuala sweetly remarked, letting out a light laugh.

Carmen looked through her fingers and gave Nuala a stare, her hazel eyes reflecting the sun. I'm not all about that kind of thing, no matter what Jacob wants to believe. There's nothing in life for me except this job.

Nuala shifted her face into a frown. Carmen, that's a sad way of thinking. Don't you want to find someone to grow old with, watch your children take their first steps, see what the future holds in store for you, and watch the world rise around you?

Carmen sat back in her chair and relaxed her arms, looking out the window in her office. It's too early for this, Nuala. I have my reasons; please let it drop.

Nuala sighed and threw up her hands in exasperation. Fine. But remember that your mother will never stop pestering you about it and you know she'll talk to me first. And for what it's worth, I wasn't suggesting Jacob; that man... Thing... Is a creep.

I'm glad we agree on something – Jacob Barthe Death the Fifth is a creep. Charming, but still a creep, Carmen said, gathering her hair at her back and trying to tidy up her appearance.

Nuala looked at the small watch on her wrist. Time to get ready. The client will be here soon. She went back to the front desk and did a small jump, followed by a brief flutter of her essence, allowing her to sit at the chair behind the desk. Carmen had the chair especially made just for Nuala, so it allowed her to lean her back into it without blocking her essence glands. She opened her bag and pulled out her ledger, opening it to document her start time for the day. She then set it aside and pulled out the drawing that Ranieri gave her the previous night, admiring the skill at which he had captured her appearance.

That's nice. Let me guess: Ranieri gave it to you? Carmen remarked, drinking from a mug. Nuala blushed and flipped the drawing over, stuffing it back in her bag.

Er, yes. No big deal. Just practice, Nuala replied. She wrinkled her nose and looked up at Carmen. What are you drinking?

Carmen looked at her mug and frowned. Whiskey. I think.

Carmen! Get rid of that! Nuala exclaimed.

Why? Some people drink coffee; I drink whiskey.

Nuala groaned and took off her glasses, resting them on her desk. She rubbed the bridge of her nose with one hand while waving Carmen off with the other. It's too early for that, Carmen! If you're reeking of whiskey, the client won't trust you one bit!

"Fine," Carmen droned while rolling her eyes. She went to her office window and opened it, dumping the contents of the mug outside. She noisily set the mug back on her desk and sat down, sorting out the pictures she had shot the previous night. She made sure to move the more risque ones to the bottom, so as to not shock the client when she first saw them.

The doorbell rang and Carmen looked up to see the client entering, closing the door behind her. She was a wealthy woman, with her expensive fur coat and demeanor betraying her status. She was the kind of person who, under normal circumstances, would not be anywhere near Carmen and Nuala.

Good morning, miss Nuala. Is miss Ahearn available? the woman asked.

Yes, missus Gothus. Go right in, Nuala answered, looking above her glasses and smiling.

If you've done your job, it won't be 'missus' anymore, Gothus muttered under her breath.

Nuala waited until Gothus passed her, then closed her eyes and shook her head. No wonder he was cheating on you, lady. You're cold as ice.

Gothus walked into Carmen's sub office, her expensive shoes tapping across the wood floor. She sat down at the chair in front of Carmen's desk and held her arms by her side, resting her expensive bag on her lap.

Well? Did you get the proof? Gothus asked.

Yeah. Looks like he got pretty busy with 'er; almost made me blush, Carmen answered, sliding the photos across the desk. Gothus picked them up and carefully looked through them, her composure starting to break up as she went further through the stack. After she passed the last photo, Carmen spied a visible tear streaming down the right side of her face.

I... Thought maybe it was nothing. That I was just being paranoid. But this... Gothus shivered and threw the pictures down, scattering them across the desk. How could he?! After everything I've done for him?!

It is what it is, missus Gothus, Carmen replied, unaffected by Gothus' outburst. Carmen shrugged and gathered the pictures back together, neatly arranging them into a pile again.

Gothus sneered at Carmen, angered by her lack of compassion. You Irish may be used to this infidelity among yourselves, but I'm an American woman! We don't accept adulterers in our households! Why, I'll bet your father must have had ten mistresses and hundreds of children!

Carmen looked up and gave Gothus a cold stare, as if she were shooting ice bolts into her very soul; it had an impact on Gothus, who was surprised that someone would dare to stand up to her.

My mother was raped, Carmen whispered, letting venom gently flow into her tone.

Gothus sat back, unsure of how to respond. Oh, uh... I-

Then she killed every one of them with a lightning spell – fried them into crispy fritters. Zap! Carmen snapped her fingers for emphasis. Just. Like. That. Of course, they still gave me to her; I'm sure you understand that I didn't ask to be in this world and my mother didn't want me.

Gothus looked down, humbled by Carmen's words. I'm sorry. I did not intend to offend you. She looked up and narrowed her eyes. Were you born here?

Carmen nodded. My mother was forced to leave Ireland shortly after her family found out. She's done well despite her status; there's always work for those with magical talent in America.

Gothus sighed and looked out the window. My apologies, miss Ahearn. I thought I could handle the news you have just delivered to me, but it hurts more than I anticipated.

Carmen relaxed her anger and pushed the pictures back toward Gothus. Let your pain turn into strength. Confront your husband with these pictures. You may be able to salvage something from it, or you may not. She sat back in her chair and continued, At the end of the day, it is out of my hands and out of my expertise. The truth is all I can offer to you.

Gothus nodded and opened her bag, withdrawing a one hundred dollar bill. That got Carmen's attention and her eyes widened as Gothus slid the bill across the desk.

One hundred dollars, as agreed, Gothus said, all in cash. Spend it wisely, miss Ahearn.

Carmen carefully took the bill and opened a drawer, sliding the bill inside and closing the drawer tight. I intend to, missus Gothus.

Gothus shook her head. It's miss Akerlund now, miss Ahearn. I've already made my decision, she said, standing. Thank you for your assistance.

Good luck, miss Akerlund, Carmen replied, letting a light smile tug at the corners of her mouth.

Gothus lightly bowed her head and headed for the door, opening it and causing the bell to ring. She gently closed it behind her, letting peace once again fill the office.

Nuala sighed and took off her glasses, rubbing her eyes and turning to face Carmen. That could have gone better.

The payment will cover our expenses, rent, and your salary, Carmen replied, so don't complain too much. 20 bucks is a lot of money.

I used to make 40 a month, Nuala grumbled under her breath.

And that wasn't exactly legit, was it now? Carmen remarked.

Nuala rolled her eyes and put her glasses back on. No, it wasn't. Can I please go get some coffee and food now?

Yeah, go ahead – just bring me back something. Not particular as to what, just something to wrap my lips around, Carmen replied, sitting back in her chair and resting her legs on her desk.

Nuala grabbed her scarf and wrapped it around her neck, trying to get as much of the scarf as she could over her exposed back without suffocating her essence glands. She then hopped down from her chair, intending to open the door when it opened on its own accord.

Good morning, Carmun! How are- a woman said, her greeting interrupted by the sight of Nuala by the door. She quickly identified the woman as Mary, Carmen's mother. Oh, Nuala! How's my favorite little fairy? You're looking particularly dashing today, dear!

Nuala smiled and did a light bow to Mary. Good morning, miss Ahearn. Carmen is already awake; we just finish dealing with a client.

Mary bent over and ran her fingers over Nuala's scarf. I love this scarf. The red color goes well with your face. What's it made of?

Angora wool. I need all the warmth I can get, now that it's getting colder, Nuala answered.

Mary nodded. I understand; trying to be a fairy in a human world can be difficult. Nonetheless, I admire how hard you're trying to fit in. Has that charming young man proposed to you yet?

Nuala's smile shifted to one of embarrassment. Oh, no. He has been busy with his art classes; you know how it is.

Mary straightened herself and folded her arms. "You just need to let him know how you feel about him. Once he knows how much you love him, he