“Periwinkle, Dax will see you now. Third oak on the left. Let me know if you have any trouble … walking,” Xenon said with a sly giggle.

“May fate find you,” Periwinkle said sweetly with a touch of malice.

Scarlet primroses sprouting with each footfall, Periwinkle stomped over the maidenhair ferns to Dax’ tree office. Catbirds heckled her brief journey. This is why I work from home, she thought. She hated water fountain gossip and bagels in the break room. Periwinkle enjoyed her fellow fae folk but only in small doses.

The third oak loomed. Periwinkle knocked on the weathered bark. She waited. With a resentful flourish of her left hand, the pixie showered the tree with maple wings. Steps mushroomed up the trunk and she climbed up to her boos’ office.

Dozing, Dax was snuggled into a tree crotch. Periwinkle looked around. Dax’ office was decorated with children’s drawings. An ebony wood carving of his mate Luna and their pups stood proudly on his desk. Periwinkle leaned in admiring their adorable cheeks. Deep down a part of her longed for a little family of her own.

“Pregnant.”

Periwinkle jumped. Yawning, Dax was shaking the leaves from his wings.

“Luna is pregnant. Morning sickness in a wolf shifter is not for the faint of heart. She’s sick as a dog and the boys chase each other half the night,” Dax said. “What did I get myself into?”

“Apparently, Luna, you randy spite. But your happiness rivals the summer cherries. Dax I’m happy for you, but you know why I’m here. That promotion should be mine. You know this,” Periwinkle said.

“I know many things.”

Dax fluttered to his shelf and retrieved his pipe. Fiddling with his raspberry leaf pouch, he played for time. Periwinkle snapped her fingers and the pouch turned into an angry turtle.

“Dax, I have been worked on Spellbound from the beta stage. Inside and out, I know the algorithms to successfully match across species. I introduced you to Luna!”

The little turtle snapped at Dax’ finger. He set it on the bookshelf. The turtle swiped Dax’ pipe and climbed off the shelf. Dax reached out then thought better of it.

“Winks no one respects a pixie with no wings. Not in matters of the heart. Wings are the symbol of our passion.”

Cursing like a drunken water witch, Periwinkle jumped up and down. Dax’ furniture trembled. The carving of Dax’ family toppled off his desk. Twirling, Periwinkle caught it. Dax peeped out from beneath his desk. She knew what the office scuttlebutt was. That she was frigid. That she had an abacus for a heart and hated sex. Periwinkle looked at the tiny statue of furry pups with Dax’ smile. Dammit, she thought, I know what I have to do. Periwinkle gritted. She had to find a fae, preferably one as antisocial as herself, who needed a pretend girlfriend. This had romance novel tropes up the wahzoo. Good thing she had a database of potential suitors. Now she just had to find someone who hated everybody but was still open to limited, practical procreation.

“You okay, Winks? You’re not having a spell stroke, are you? Remember what HR said after the icebreaker.”

“I’m fine. I just remembered I have a date."