Genie Daddy Read online

  Mary suddenly appeared just as I dried the last dish. A proud smile swept across her face as she picked up a dry dish and held it up to the window, examining it with twinkling eyes. “These are beautiful. Look at the intricacies!”

  “Oh, I saw each and every one of them as I picked the gunk out”,” I grumbled, hiding a smile.

  “Beautiful job my dear, thank you. How about some lunch?”

  My stomach roared in response, giving me away. I was starving. “Yes, please.”

  “Great. Why don’t you go out to the garden and get some vegetables, and I will put together some salad and sandwiches?”

  I gaped at her. That put a whole new meaning to the phrase working for your supper. “Are you serious?”

  “Nope, but the look on your face says you are about ready to kill me. Lighten up, dear. It was a joke. There is no garden. My fresh fruits and vegetables are delivered every couple of days.” Mary laughed.

  Shaking my head at her idea of a joke, I cleaned off my hands and pressed a wet towel to the back of my neck. “How can you stand this heat? You aren’t even sweating.”

  “The shop is a lot cooler because there are more windows and we get a cross breeze. We can work together down there after lunch.”

  “Oh goody.” Despite my dry response, the idea of a cross breeze of any sort sounded appealing after spending the morning in a virtual sauna.

  “You could always do more dishes, dear.” Mary pointed to the boxes, but I shook my head quickly.

  “Working in the shop will be fine, thanks.”

  “Mmm hmm.” Mary brought in a basket full of vegetables and began throwing together the most colorful salad I had ever seen. Mixed greens, carrots, bell peppers, radishes, cucumbers, purple onions, and cherry tomatoes all blended together to make a bountiful feast almost to pretty to eat. Almost.

  “Ham or turkey?” Mary asked.

  “Can I have a little of both? I will chop it up and put it in my salad.”

  “You may.” Mary laid a couple of pieces on the plate and made herself a sandwich. “Help yourself.” She gestured to the pile of food, and I sighed. Of course I had to make it myself.

  “Sorry, dearie, no one here is going to wait on you. You have to learn some independence.”

  Two weeks, I reminded myself. Two long fucking weeks.

  Mary had not been lying. I found the temperature in the shop way more bearable than that of the apartment. I wondered if she would let me sleep down here. Mary rambled on about her assorted collections, but it all looked like trash to me, as I peered around in a daze, trying to follow her steady stream of chatter. Finally, she pointed to a corner near the back of the shop. “You can start there. I will start on the opposite side, and we will meet in the middle. Every inch of this place needs to be cleaned and organized. Remove any broken items you find and place them to the side. If you have a question about something, leave it where it is and I will look.”

  “What is all this crap? Do people really buy this stuff?” I stalled. It was barely noon, and we had already been working for hours. I wanted to sit and enjoy the cool breeze.

  “The right people do, yes. My neighbor is always hounding me about selling things on the eBay or what have you, but there is something lost in that. I like interacting with people, telling them the stories behind pieces and hearing their tales in return. You can learn things you never imagined, just from listening.”

  The joy on her face as she spoke perplexed me, her passion for all her old crap obvious. I felt a stab of jealousy I didn’t quite understand. Nothing in my life lit me up like that. Nothing made me as happy as Aunt Mary with her piles of crap. All I really did was spend money. Ninety percent of the time, I didn’t even need the things I bought. My walk-in closet back home was full of things I had never worn, yet I kept buying more. If I wasn’t careful, I would end up with a mess like the one in the shop. But I still wouldn’t be happy

  “Ready to start?”

  “Ready as I will ever be.” Another lie. I had missed most of Mary’s instructions and had no clue what was trash and what wasn’t. I grabbed one of the buckets of soapy water and went to the corner Aunt Mary had pointed out earlier. “Here goes nothing.”

  Starting with the top shelf, I took down each item, cleaned it, and set it to the side. When the shelf was empty I wiped it down and the old brick wall behind it. The bucket of water and rag I got dirty really fast, and I had to make multiple trips back and forth to the back room to retrieve clean water. Lugging the water back and forth was one of the hardest parts. The water would slosh over the sides and get all over me and the floor. I placed my steps carefully, avoiding the wet spots. I’m going to slip and bust my ass on one of those puddles. Putting my hands in the clean water was refreshing, but the muddy water made me want to hurl. I didn’t even want to know what I smelled like, but it had to be rank.

  Hours passed as we worked shelf by shelf. Tired, sweaty, and hungry, I paused to admire the fruits of my labor, filled with pride. I had never worked so hard—or, basically, at all—and seeing the progress felt good.

  Mary came up behind me. “Well done! Look at you go. You keep at it and I will go whip us up some dinner. ’How’s that sound?”

  Wiping sweat from my face, I nodded. “Sounds great, but are you sure you don’t need help with dinner?”

  “Don’t be silly. I wouldn’t want to interrupt your progress. You need to catch up with me anyway.” She gestured to the wall she had been cleaning, and it was almost finished.

  “I guess I’m slow.”

  “You’re doing great, and I am so proud. Finish this section and come get cleaned up.”

  When I turned back to the wall, my pleasure abated and frustration returned. I hated work, and I hated being dirty! Still, I determined to finish. Sighing, I grabbed a dusty glass bottle off the shelf and it hit the one next to it, creating a sort of a domino effect before crashing to the ground.

  “Oops.” I cringed and waited to see if Mary would hear the crash and come down. When she didn’t appear, I sighed with relief. Time to find a broom. The back of the shop held a bathroom, a small room with a desk, potentially an office, and a closet. Of course, I found the broom in none of those places, because that might actually make a lick of sense. Growling, I collapsed onto a desk chair and gasped when it rolled backward and hit the wall behind me. A loud creaking sound startled me out of my seat, and I turned around to see a huge crack in the wall. No, it was a door.. A closet camouflaged by a large cork board overflowing with different documents. Curious, I pushed it open and shivered for a moment before stepping inside.

  The space was dark and covered in cobwebs. I started to exit almost immediately, but in the back corner I spotted a small broom. It was the old style, the kind a child would use for a Halloween costume, but better than nothing. Swiping my hand back and forth in the air in front of me like some sort of ninja, I tried to keep the cobwebs from hitting my face. I hate spiders.

  A small chain hung from the ceiling, and I tugged it. Thankfully it still worked, and the room filled with a dim light. When I looked around, I found myself wishing for the darkness. Shallow shelves cluttered with marked jars and bottles of all shapes and sizes filled the walls. At least an inch of grime coated them. I picked up the bottle closest to me and wiped off the label.

  “Love Potion?” Are you kidding me? Shaking my head, I rubbed my fingers over the label once more, clearing away the final layer of dust. Smoke began slowly seeping from the top of the bottle, and I dropped it, jumping back and falling to the ground in fear. What the fuck? The smoke cloud grew, filling the small room, until I could barely see in front of me. I crawled in a circle on the floor, trying to get my bearings as I searched for the exit. The air in the room swirled in a miniature tornado, sucking in all the smoke until the room cleared. In a backward crab walk, I moved as far as I could from the cloud that formed. I hit the wall and froze to the spot. One of the most beautiful men I had ever seen had magically materialized right before my
eyes. No, there was no such thing as magic. This had to be some sort of trick. I looked around to see if Mary had somehow pranked me, but I remained alone in the room, save the purple muscled masterpiece created out of smoke.

  Still on my hands and knees, I checked him out from head to… waist. He was only half a man. “A naked purple half man floating on a cloud. Am I dead?”

  His eyes went from a trancelike state to traveling around the room and landing on me. They matched his body in color, but with such depth behind them. He stared at me for a moment before his gaze softened and his mouth tipped into a smirk.

  “Is this how people greet genies in your time?”

  His voice fell somewhere between a low rumble and a growl. It vibrated through me, and I felt my body respond. The tingle started behind my ears and traveled lower, brushing my nipples and settling in my sex.

  “Do you not speak?” He crossed his muscled arms over his chest and replaced the smirk with a full-mouthed smile. His white teeth shone bright against the dark purple of his lips. Soft, pillowy lips, from the looks of them. Oh God, why couldn’t I talk? The necessary words would not form on my tongue. Neither of us moved, just stared each other. Millions of questions ran through my mind, but none of them came out. I had to focus on breathing I felt like I was going to pass out.

  “Mary!” I didn’t yell, but the name came out loud and surprised us both.

  “Is that your name? Interesting.”

  I shook my head.

  “Maybe you would like to stand?” He offered his hand in a gentlemanly gesture, but I couldn’t take it. I threw myself backward, landed on my butt with a hard thud, and banged my head against the wall behind me, rattling the glass jars above my head. Dust flew everywhere, coating my sweat-soaked skin and clothes. The cloud floated backward slightly, giving me some space.

  “You do not need to fear me. I am here to serve you.”

  Serve me? I shook my head back and forth hard to try to wake up from this crazy dream. Was it some sort of hallucination? “Y-you’re not… you can’t… you aren’t real! I’m dreaming or something. Maybe I have heat stroke and am imagining someone saving me from this hell. Yeah, like a mirage.” The concept sounded crazed even to my own ears, but what else could I say?

  He looked around the room, “This does not appear to be hell.”

  “How would you know? You haven’t even been here five minutes.” I looked around frantically for anything that would help me wake up. “Oh God, now I am arguing with it. I need something to drink. Something cold, with caffeine. I freakin wish I had an ice-cold Coke right now.”

  “Your wish is my command.”

  With a snap of his fingers, a frosty bottle of Coke appeared next to my hand, and I jumped away as if it were a spider about to attack.

  “Is that not what you wished for?” His head tilted to the side like a confused puppy.

  “I-I did but…” My head swiveled between him and the drink. What the hell is going on?

  “Quite a modest first wish. I would be a bit more careful with the second one if I were you. You only get three, and I cannot control them, only you can. Any time you say ‘I wish,’ it will come to pass, with a few minor rules.”

  I sat stunned by the whole scene.

  “I see you still do not believe. Pick it up. Refresh yourself.”

  I obeyed without question. His words were so strong, so commanding. I had never felt compelled to do anything I was told, not without a fight at least. I tried to open the bottle, but it wouldn’t budge. The man snapped his fingers, and the cap flew off, landing on the floor with a ping and rolling around for a second before finally falling flat. I watched it the whole time, staring at the inanimate object until the coldness of the drink penetrated my haze and I set it down.

  “You still do not believe?” He shook his head in disapproval before snapping his fingers once more. The coke floated from its place up to my mouth. “Open.”

  I parted my lips. The bottle tipped slowly, resting against my bottom lip as the liquid made its way to my taste buds. I moaned in delight and grabbed the bottle, tipping it farther, faster, then it was snatched away.

  “Hey!” I wiped my mouth angrily and scrambled to my feet, chasing after my drink. Even when I was standing, his bulk dwarfed me, and technically he was only half a man, with only a cloud from the waist down. I took one step toward him and reached for his hand. “Give that back!”

  “You need to drink slowly. Caffeinated beverages can expand in your esophagus and cause pain.”

  “I am a grown woman. I don’t need you telling me what to do.”

  “You appear grown, I will agree, however, your actions are those of a spoiled child.”

  “You can’t say that. You don’t even know me.” I pouted and turned away to hide my heated cheeks. He hadn’t even introduced himself and already he was judging. Why was I so embarrassed? I knew I was spoiled, hell I loved it, but something about the way he said it made my heart ache.

  His large hand engulfed my shoulder and turned my body to face him. “You are correct. I should not make such rash judgments. I have not spent an adequate amount of time getting to know you. You have my deepest apology for my misstep.”

  My eyes widened, and breath caught in my throat. He was apologizing? No one ever apologized. In my life, people got angry, went away, and came back when they could pretend nothing had ever happened. His hand still rested on my shoulder, and its warmth settled in my bones. Unable to help myself, I lifted my hand and placed it against his chest. Solid muscle. I felt compelled to run my hands up and down his entire torso, but that would be weird. This whole thing was weird.

  “Now do I have your belief?”

  My eyes left his chest and raised to meet his. “You talk funny.”

  A chuckle rumbled from somewhere deep and moved through my hand. My panties dampened instantly. What the hell?

  “Yes, I know. That is one of the downfalls of spending years in my chambers. I revert to the speech I learned as a boy. Soon enough, I will sound as if I am from your time. What year is it?”

  “2017.”

  His face turned pensive. “Twenty-eight years, then. I believe that is my shortest rest yet.”

  “You were in a wine bottle for twenty eight years?”

  “I believe it is a bottle for potions, but yes.”

  “Where’s your lamp? Aren’t genies supposed to be in lamps?” It began to get easier to form questions, but this all still felt like a very weird dream I would wake up from at any moment.

  He shook his head. “That is where we begin, but after the third wish of the one we serve, we are sent into the object representing their personal vice. I have resided in a mirror, a small coin, a multitude of places. Genie’s do not take much space.”

  “So the person you served before now was…”

  “She dabbled in the arts of witchcraft.”

  I gulped and looked again at the room we were in. “I need to get out of here.”

  He snapped his fingers and, suddenly, we stood outside, behind the shop. The fresh air penetrated my lungs, clearing out the stagnant air from that tiny room. I looked up at the genie again. “Thank you… I don’t even know your name.”

  “Shame on me. I have not properly introduced myself. I am Callum.”

  “Callum,” I whispered. His name felt natural on my lips. “Do you have a last name?”

  “You are the first of my girls to ask that of me.” His stunned look told me he spoke the truth.

  “In my world, last names rule.”

  “How is that so?”

  “Well, my name is Fiona Burelli. My father is a known powerhouse. That means no one goes against me, and I get what I want when I want it.” I confidently relayed the information. If this was real and he planned to be serving me, he should know what to expect.

  “That does not sound appealing.”

  “What? It’s amazing.”

  “And if you are not fortunate enough to have a certain name?”
r />   I shrugged, “ I never really thought about it.”

  “You don’t often consider others?” The realization he could make my feel two inches tall with a simple inquiry pissed me off. No one had ever instilled such a feeling in me, and I didn’t like it. Not at all.

  I turned away from him. “I consider people who mean something to me. Why do I need to worry about the whole world and its problems?” Damn that sounded lame. He made me uncomfortable, and I didn’t know how to battle back. Sexy genie or not, no one got to hold power over Fiona Burelli, ever.

  Callum stayed silent behind me, compounding my uneasiness..

  “It’s not like me living my life affects them anyway. I can’t change who they are.” That felt like a better argument.

  “You cannot. However, how you treat them can make all the difference.”

  “How I treat them? We live in totally different worlds. They don’t come into mine, and I certainly don’t go into theirs.”

  “No? The people who serve you, then. They are a part of your world, are they not?”

  He made me spitting mad, “Who do you think you are, mother fucker? Seriously. Are you here to grant me wishes, or are you here to pass judgment about people you don’t even know?”

  “I pass no judgment except the one I have already apologized for. I cannot control that my inquiries create frustration within.” His logical answers made it. Why does all this matter to you, anyway? It’s not like we are friends. ’You’re only here to give me stuff. So cut the questioning shit.”

  “Your language when you are upset leaves much to be desired.” His glare gave me butterflies.

  “My language is not your concern so, go fuck yourself.”

  His expression darkened, and I took a step away from him.

  “You may assume, now, however, I warn you, the moment I am given the opportunity, you will find yourself being disciplined for your speech, among other things. Of this, I am certain.”