When Libby Met the Fairies and her Whole Life Went Fae Read Online Free PDF Page B

She could have dialed his cell. In fact, she wanted, more than anything, to dial his cell. But Libby knew where he was—he was having dinner with his new boss. Interrupting him would have been verboten even for a lucid reason. Interrupting him to tell him she’d seen . . . an alien life form—let’s just say she knew better.
     
    ♦ ♦ ♦
     
    She spent an hour or so in her office, sorting and filing folders. Her heartbeat had returned to normal.
    Her mind, on the other hand . . .
    And yet. And yet. Here in her office, alphabetizing her folders of interview prospects, Skin Tones ’ future story topics, past story notes . . . there had to be some logical explanation. Stress. Some psychological trigger. It hadn’t really seemed real, she reflected, not real the way these folders were real.
    She thrust one marked “Billington, M.D.” behind another labeled “Babcock & Sons.”
    You know, it was a good thing she hadn’t reached Paul. Freaked him out over . . . nothing.
    Libby headed back downstairs and heard Maisey and Tyler laughing from inside Maisey’s bedroom.
    U-turn, hand on the doorknob, turned it, flung open the door.
    Tyler was sprawled on top of Maisey, on her bed.
    Maisey pushed him off and he stood up, looking flushed and, Libby was happy to note, guilty. Or at least sorry he’d been caught.
    “Door stays open at all times. Unless Maisey is in her room, alone .”
    “Yes, ma’am,” she heard Tyler answer as she reached the top of the stairs.
    She was going to fix herself a cup of tea. Whatever that was that she’d seen, it was a fluke of some kind. Some sort of mirage, or maybe she hadn’t really experienced it at all . . . it was fading away, and the less she thought about it, the faster it would go.
     
    ♦ ♦ ♦
     
    Paul called back a little after 10:00. And Libby had not only calmed down, she’d decided—firmly—that there was no need to mention anything about the . . . incident.
    He had enough going on right now.
    If she needed any other justification, she immediately found out. He sounded a tad inebriated.
    “Hi, snookums,” he said happily when she answered the phone.
    “Well, hi. Things went well, then?”
    “Free dinner, Libby. What’s to argue with a free dinner?”
    They’d discussed the meeting some beforehand, of course. If Robbie was taking Paul out for a meal, Paul probably wasn’t on the “to be fired” docket.
    Libby decided to stick to safe subjects. “What did you have?”
    “Porterhouse. And cheesecake. Coupla pieces of cheesecake.”
    She laughed uneasily. “Couple of pieces?”
    “It went late, babe. I ordered another slice.”
    “Ah. Well. No point in just sitting there.”
    “That’s what I thought. Plus it’s not good to drink on an empty stomach.”
    “Sensible. So what did they say?”
    “You were right, Libby, my darling.”
    “I was?”
    “What you said the other night. About how much women need to look their best.”
    “Oh, yeah.”
    “This is big, Libby. It’s important. Women—when you women get old, you just want to die.” He giggled.
    “They said that?”
    “They didn’t mention whether men do.”
    “What, whether men want to die?”
    “Uh huh, before they get old. Like in The Who song—” He made some “ner ner ner, ner ner ner” guitar sounds and launched into song, “What a draaag it is getting old.”
    “That’s the Stones, actually. And you know, maybe you should get to bed—sounds like you—you need a head start in sleeping this off, don’t you think?”
    “Libby, this is important. Libby.”
    She waited.
    “I was wrong. This isn’t a step backwards. Not at all.”
    “Of course not, Paul.”
    “Looking good is important for a woman’s self-esteem. And without self-esteem, there would—Libby.”
    Libby waited again.
    “Libby, without self-esteem, there’d be no steam at all.” He giggled again.
    “You’re so right, Paul.” Libby wondered whether he’d offered this bit of marketing insight during the