“I only met her the once,” Colby said. “She’s nice, she liked me. And you’re much more likable than I am, so I wouldn’t worry about it. Go introduce yourself.”
He pointed out a sensibly dressed woman who seemed to be entertaining a group of kids and their rattled parents.
“That’s her. Tiffani-with-an-I.”
Resigned, Martin started crossing the street to her.
Only a quarter of the way in, duty turned into pleasure of a kind he hadn’t felt in a long time.
Tiffani Marcus was lovely. So lovely even the sun itself seemed to love her: it glittered in the gold undertones of her bronze-colored hair and fell appealingly across her bare calves. The line of her tweedy, almost old-fashioned skirt against her skin was somehow one of the sexiest sights of his life.
But what drew him in even more was her animation and her air of complete expertise.
Here was a woman who, on her first day of work—on her first day of work in years—had effectively had her life threatened, and yet she had immediately started helping things run smoothly. He could only imagine how scared the children had been before she’d started talking. Now they just looked enthralled. Even their parents were thawing out of their shock, looking at this golden goddess of efficiency like they had no idea where she’d come from.
She didn’t seem like she needed his help at all.
Somehow that seemed... incredibly restful. He didn’t stop walking. If nothing else, he wanted to meet her. He wanted to know if she was telling a story or telling jokes or, for all he knew, putting on some kind of amateur improvised magic show.
Telling a story, as it turned out. He made sure not to distract her until it was finished.
Playing to a modern audience, Tiffani concluded her apparent fairy tale with, “And the intergalactic rock star and her space pirate boyfriend lived happily ever after out among the stars.”
“Playing Minecraft!” one kid yelled.
Tiffani’s face clearly announced that she had no idea what this meant, but she continued seamlessly. “Absolutely. Playing lots of Minecraft.”
The kids devolved into a discussion of the different things the rock star and the space pirate would build in Minecraft. The adults all sagged with visible relief at the lack of tears and tantrums. Martin saw at least one dad mouth a very fervent, “Thank you,” at Tiffani.
Her answering smile was stunning. She had just a little bit of a gap between her front teeth, and it was irresistible, both cute and sexy.
Half of Martin was glad that she’d been thanked and her work had been appreciated.
The other half of him boiled up in unnecessary anger against the man who’d thanked her. He could have transformed right then and knocked the man halfway across the street with a hoof to the chest. All for being the person to get the full sunniness of that smile.
Was he worn that thin, that he would get angry at someone for nothing at all? Had he gotten that lonely?
It is not fair, his pegasus conceded, but it is not nothing.
Martin couldn’t argue with that.
He said, “Ms. Marcus?”
Tiffani turned.
Whatever she actually said in response was lost to him.
Her. This is her. She’s the one.
His pegasus reared back and let out a loud, exuberant cry. It was more unearthly than any whinny.
Our mate! She’s here!
I can’t have a mate, Martin thought, in shock. I missed my chance. I missed my chance a long time ago.
He had missed his chance for a mate. He had married anyway and then lost the wife he’d loved. That part of his life was supposed to be over now, wasn’t it?
He could suddenly remember everything he’d