Over the Faery Hill - Jennifer L. Hart Page 0,9

comment after a beautiful woman asked for anything hot.”

“Some guys would get kicked in the balls for aforementioned lewd comment.” I glared at him even as my heart pounded. Had he really called me beautiful?

No one ever had, except for my grandfather.

Robin laughed out loud. “Oh yes, I believe you’ll do nicely.”

All the hairs on my arms rose at that moment. “Do for what? The life coach assistant position?”

He didn’t answer, just held back a curtain that appeared to be formed from strands of twinkling lights and freshly fallen autumn leaves to reveal the room beyond.

And woah baby, what a room.

Everything was made from wood. A live oak table with matching chairs. The couch and counters. The open shelving in the kitchen held wooden plates and mugs. Even the mantlepiece over the stone fireplace. No sign of a fridge or a stove or dishwasher. Perhaps they were hidden behind the glorious cabinets.

I spun in a slow circle, trying to take it all in. “This is incredible. The detail work. It looks as though someone carved all of this out of the tree. And it was so well camouflaged.”

He shrugged. “It’s home. Go stand by the fire and warm up while I fetch your something hot.” He put a gentle hand on my back and urged me toward the massive fireplace. I jumped at the touch, startled at the heat that seemed to seep from him, through my clothes and into my skin.

Without any hesitation, I went, holding out my hands and soaking in the warmth and wondered about the house. Why had I never heard about the construction of this place? It seemed like something that the town would have been talking about for months, if not years. Every detail was flawless.

Still no sign of the light source. No television or tablet sat on the wood table. Another of those leaf and light curtains covered an opening on the far side of the room. His bedroom perhaps?

And you have no business thinking about his bedroom. I firmly told my lusty hormones.

“Here you go.” Robin handed me a wooden mug and gestured toward the chair that looked as though it had been dug out with a massive sweep gouge by a giant-sized whittler. “Have a seat. And let’s talk terms.”

I hadn’t heard a kettle whistle or the ding of a microwave. Yet the heat from the steaming mug seeped into my palms. I settled on the whittled chair, which was surprisingly comfortable for such a hard surface. It was almost as if it had been carved exactly for my body. “Terms for employment do you mean? I came because of the want-ad for the assistant to the life coach.”

Robin lowered himself onto the couch and raised both eyebrows. “And do you feel like you are in a position to help others because your life is going the way you want it to?”

I set the mug down on a low side table and straightened my shoulders. Stick to the truth. “Is my life perfect? No. But I get up every day and I try harder than I did the day before.”

“Do you though?” Those blue eyes seemed to sparkle like polished sapphires. “Do you embrace every moment?”

I opened my mouth, then closed it again. No lying. “No, I don’t suppose I do.”

He leaned forward his expression intent. “And what would you trade for the chance to redo it all?”

I frowned. “I’m not sure what you’re getting at.”

His fingers steepled together and he said, “I’m not looking for an assistant. The position is one of great opportunity.”

Was this the part where he asked for money? Figured, the whole beautiful compliment was just his way of buttering me up. “Look, I’m not doing one of those pyramid scheme things—”

He held up a hand, effectively cutting me off. “Nothing like that. What I need from you, Joey, is a favor. You make a commitment for one open-ended favor to me. Anything I require in the future within your ability to give it. And in return, I’ll grant you the chance to change your life.”

“Or my money back?” I raised a brow.

He waved it away. “No money will change hands in this bargain. I have no use for it.”

“Yeah, right.” I rolled my eyes. Who didn’t need money? What about food? Electricity? Taxes, for crying out loud. “So, this isn’t an actual job.”

“It’s an opportunity. To alter the course of your life and reshape the person you are today.”

He was a hell of a salesman. I

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