Druid's Grimoire


Senior Member
Aug 17, 2006
I thought that I might post a few stories for you...

Hope you like them, and feedback is always appreciated. M.


Senior Member
Aug 17, 2006
This is a modern fairy tale I wrote in class...

The Payout​
I can get any guy in this bar… It was a stupid bet. Rachel regretted those words the moment they left her mouth. The afternoon had seemed surreal to Rachel since she, Cathy, Lyn, and Sally of them left the Global Certified Public Accountant Institute conference with a major award for accounting excellence. The four, along with Robin, had worked on this project for the last eighteen months, and worked together since Cathy and she graduated college, five years ago.
Rachel was not one for bars as a rule, but this would be a doubly special celebration since Robin went into labor that morning. Everything was going smooth, until Cathy shot her mouth off about how Rachel did not have a guy. Why does she do this every time we go out? I prayed that we’d get news on Robin’s baby before we got here, just to keep my dating off the playlist…

Lyn raised her glass. “Here’s to Robin, without whom we never would have finished.”

“Any news about her and the baby?” Sally asked, which turned the conversation tempo-rarily away from Rachel and her dating habits.

I love them all like sisters, but one of these days Cath will go too far… Rachel grabbed a handful of honey-roasted almonds and tried not to blow up. Cathy was the pretty one: long curly red hair, great figure, Ms. Popularity, the spark to any situation; Rachel was her quiet, bookish, inscrutable Asian-American sidekick; Lyn and Sally were the wing-women and men-filters for the group, while Robin was both the strategist and slave driver on projects.

Cathy was also her college roommate and best friend, but there were times Rachel wished she’d have let the girl flunk out, and now was one of them. They had ordered another round, when Cathy got a text from Robin’s hubby, Glenn. “It’s a 7lb, 6oz baby girl named Rachel Kath-leen.” Cathy called out. “Barkeep – Shots of Jack, and keep ‘em coming.”

“Wow. I guess we can go see her in a bit.” Lyn smiled and lifted her shot glass. “To Robin and baby Rachel…” Everyone downed their shot.

“May her namesake get a man before she does.” Cathy smirked as her glass hit the table.

Rachel blanched and whispered, “Cathy, Please stop it…”, but Cathy either refused to hear or outright ignored her. As the waitress swapped full for empties, Cathy regaled the others about all the guys she had dated versus the ones Rachel did. Then she dissected every date, relationship, and failure that Rachel had since freshman year.

The longer this went on, the more Rachel realized that this friendship benefited Cathy. In the last nine years, every major choice I made revolved around Her Highness’s whims. If I tried to go too far on my own, she shot it down… Except for comforting me when Evan died, all of the sympathy and support has been me of her. If she keeps this shit up, I will tell her off. Five more shots in, the others from the office egged them on until Rachel finally snapped, “If I wanted to, I can get any guy in this bar.”

“Prove it.” Cathy sneered. “There's a bunch of guys at the bar. Go get one of them.”

“Get real, Cathy – those guys? I think they're gay.” Lyn noted.

“What makes you think that?”

“The Gay Lesbian Alliance Soccer Club patch on their uniforms. Besides, how many guys do you know who would wear salmon in public? Not even you could get one of them.”

“I don't need one. Rachel, on the other hand, hasn't been laid since before Obama first got elected. Come on now, she did say anyone, did she not?”

“True, but be realistic. What about that guy in the corner?” Sally suggested.

“Him? He's too good looking to be her type. I'm going to offer him breakfast in bed.”

“What are you doing? She accepted your bet, therefore, she should be the first one to head over there.” Lyn turned to Rachel. “Your target has been sighted, go get him.”

Rachel scanned the corners. “Who? That old man in the gray suit?”

“No! He’s older than your dad. That would be too gross. I meant him – the dark haired hunk in the jeans and blue work shirt in the other corner – the young Magnum P.I. clone.”

“She has no chance in hell at that hottie.” Cathy signaled the waitress. “One more round before you go down in flames?”

That tears it! “Bitch, shut your mouth!” Rachel stood up and weaved her way through the tables and few early Friday night customers toward the guy in the corner. That probably won’t start her thinking, but enough is too much. I am tired of being her safety net. I didn’t take her to raise. I am my own woman, or would be if she would grow up and take responsibility… then again, knowing her, she’ll probably blame this on the Jack…

Halfway across the floor, her brain started to rebel. What am I doing? Why am I heading over there? What do I say? Do I tell him the truth? Do I lie? He is hot! He’s out of my league! Maybe I can turn around and head back? No, then Cath will have won again. Why do I let her get to me? If I go back, what should I tell them? What do I tell them? I know – I’ll tell them I saw a ring line on his hand…but he could be divorced, which would account…Before she could finish the thought, she was standing in front of him. “Hello, can I sit down?”

“I’d rather you didn’t; I'm not that interested in company.”

“Please? Just act like you are; I swear I'll go away in a bit and not bother you again, but will you go along with this? It's important.” She looked into his green eyes and smiled nervously.

“It's a free country.” he sighed, giving slow, sad smile. “Let me guess, your friends dragged you here to let your hair down, then egged you into pestering a guy, right?”

“Exactly. My name is Rachel, Rachel Brown. Thanks for going along with this, Mr. –?”

“Don't laugh, it's Wright. Mark Wright. I'm happy to meet you, Rachel. Relax, this isn’t the first time I’ve had this happen to me. I can see your friends are staring holes in your back.” Mark signaled the waitress. “Just go along with it. Want a coke? They won't know what we're drinking, and if they see us drinking something, it looks better for you.”

“That suits me fine. I’ve had enough liquor.” She watched him order, and the waitress take off. “How do you know that they're all jealous?”

“I can see them in the mirror. That redhead is eaten by envy, so I can tell she put you up to it. Who is this 'friend' that can force you to ignore your normal caution?”

“Cathy isn't that bad, unless she's had a few. She was my college roommate, and we went to work for the same corporation, as accountants. The little blonde is Lyn, our receptionist, and the brunette is Sally. Our department got the O’Brien Award from the GCPAI; it’s never given to accounting departments under 200 employees, much less companies under 200, so this is a BIG deal.” The waitress dropped the fresh round. Rachel nodded, took a sip, and continued. “We were out celebrating when Cath started shooting her mouth off about how I was too much a goody-two-shoes and needed to howl at the moon. I finally snapped and said I could get any guy here.” She covered her face and whispered, “I'm sorry.”

“I'm not; red suits you, and truth be told, you could... if you don't mind being seen with Mr. Wright, that is… I often seem to be that bet’s target. You aren’t the first woman to admit that her friends pushed her to come over and bother me when I’m minding my own business.”

“Am I really bothering you? In that case…” Rachel started to slide out of the booth when he reached across and touched her hand. “What? You said that you didn’t want company. I’m sor…”

Mark whispered, “Wait. Please don’t go. You are not bothering me. There’s something about you… no nothing bad, just unique among the women I’ve met recently.” He looked down at the table, his volume picked up as he went along. “Something amazing to me. Besides, they haven’t suffered enough,” Mark grinned, nodding toward her friends. “Just relax, and enjoy them eating their livers out. If you want to rub it in, Rachel, we could go out and get a bite to eat somewhere. Did you drive, or ride with one of them?”

“What are you suggesting, Mr. Wright? Something wrong?” What does he mean by unique? Is that good or bad? What does that say about him that ordinary, plain, old me is unique? I can turn heads if I go all out, but I’m not dressed to entice, right now…

“I'm suggesting we go out and get a bite to eat. Anything else would be entirely up to you. I am trying to be a gentleman about this and get them off your back. Is there a problem with that?”

There is something about him…he’s nervous?! It’s like he’s almost in the same boat I am when it comes to meeting people like this. “I was teasing. I would love to, and it would shut them up. Let me get my bag and jacket, and we can leave –” In for a penny…

“You really want to rub it in? We'll both stop over there, you get your stuff, and we don't tell them a damned thing about where we're going.” he laughed. “I take it you approve?”

I don’t want to go back to the table by myself. Cathy would take it upon herself to rush in and steal him from me, like she did with Jimmy. This is a guy I want to know better. I will not let her lay her slutty little fingers on him. She leaned in and whispered, “I don’t know… maybe if we act like we're heating up? This sounds way faster than I am, but would you kiss me?”

“If you insist.” His fingers stroked her long black hair as his lips brushed her cheek.

“No, I'm serious.” Rachel's lips softly landed on his. Backing off, her eyes locked on his, and she went in again, lips slightly parting, tongue teasing his lips open. She felt his hand slip around her shoulder. “Hmm. That's what I'm talking about.”

“Damn, they are upset.” he chuckled, nodding to the mirror. She glanced up, seeing Lyn and Cathy in an animated discussion as Sally looked stunned. “Let's get your stuff and blow this pop stand.”

“Once more, for courage.” she murmured and kissed him again. “They will be good and shocked now. Follow my lead: be really into me and ignore them when we go over.”

“I think I can handle that.”

She led him across to the table. “I'm out of here. See you Monday, girls.”

“Hey, aren't you going to introduce us?”

“Cathy, if you wanted to meet him so bad, you should have gone over there.” Rachel slipped her jacket on. “Are you ready?”

“Right behind you, beautiful.” Mark’s right hand slipped around her waist and rested lightly on her hip, gently steering her to the door. Cathy and Sally rushed outside to see the pair turn right and walk half a block to his Corvette. He leaned in and whispered, “We’ve got an audience, so the show goes on. I apologize in advance for whatever my hands might do before we take off.”

“Thanks for the warning, but it would look strange if they didn’t roam,” Rachel smiled. “But that doesn’t mean anything will happen later.”


On the sidewalk in front of the bar, Rachel’s friends watched the guy open the door, spin Rachel in for a kiss, squeeze her bottom, and guide her into the car, his hand lightly lingering on her right breast. As he closed the door, hopped in the other side, and drove off, Sally nudged Cathy, “That is one smooth son-of-a-bitch. Why didn’t you send ME over?”

“What are you hungry for, Rachel? We got fast, medium, slow, or glacial food restaurants. Lady’s choice – what would make it a perfect night for you?”

The sun sank into the cloud on the driver’s side as they approached the freeway. “I’m sorry, but I can’t help you. I don’t go out much, so I don’t know many places.” Oh God, Lame!

“You don’t have to apologize for everything. I find it charming and intriguing that you don’t eat out much.” He smiled and turned the radio on. “What type of food do you not like?”

“Well there is little I don’t like, but I’m a little sick of Chinese or Thai food. If we work late, or I don’t feel like cooking, those get ordered. That’s happened a little too often, recently. Pizza also falls into that column. Hmm…” I don’t want to make him think I’m after him for his money. This car, his manners, and his taste in music… he’s loaded, as well as gorgeous… Think, what would truly make me happy? Me? “It may sound corny, but I miss something simple, like Denny’s.” She heard him chuckle. “Something wrong?”

“Nothing wrong with that; it’s been a while since I last ate there, too.” He switched lanes and veered onto the freeway. “Denny’s it is.”

With Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata filling the car, she watched the signs and billboards fly past. After what seemed like a small eternity, she blurted out, “So, what do you do for a living?”

“I can’t tell you everything on the drive to the restaurant, or we won’t have anything to talk about.” Mark chuckled and took the next exit. “Relax, you have my undivided attention until we part ways.”

He parked the car, hopped out, opened the car door for her, held the door for her as they went in, and were shown to a booth across from the counter. Once seated and the orders taken, he looked across the table and stated, “You know, if it hadn’t have been for you, I would’ve gone home and had a baloney sandwich.”

“I would’ve had tuna.” A smile started to invade Rachel’s calm face. “I’d have slipped into my jammies and curled up on the sofa, watching Cinemax. You?”

“Not that much different, except I’d have had HBO on.” He thanked the waitress as she set their Grand Slams down. “You like blueberry?”

“It reminds me of my grandma’s house. I used to stay there when I was little.” She blushed a little as they ate. “What’s your favorite berry, and why?”

“Blackberry, and for the same reason. I would go out to my grandparents for the summer, and I spent most of it barefoot, running around, picking blackberries, catching fireflies, sneaking out of the house with a blanket, and lying back and looking up at all the stars – simple pleasures. I miss those days.”

“So, what about now in the complicated days – What do you do?”

“As little as possible so I can retain the illusion of my youth.” He chuckled into his coffee. “You said you are an accountant?”

“I work at Harmon/Black – overseeing the overseas transactions and keeping the books balanced and taxes paid. Now what is it you really do? I don’t think you’re running around like a bum.” Stealing a glance, the section was empty, except for them and a couple in the corner booth. This is strange. I would have thought that it would be busier at 6:40 on a Friday night, seeing it is a national chain. Then again, it makes this feel more like a movie than my life. Damn, I can’t tell if he is really interested, or if he is paying attention just because no one else is here. Is he just being polite, or is he does he truly want to get to know me?

Signaling for a refill, he sighed, “Mine is Morgan/Cooper Investments. I’m in upper man-agement – don’t hold that against me.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Many people hear where I work and what I do, and then get all Upstairs, Downstairs on me. I miss honesty, honestly. Everyone I talk to either is after money or thinks I should be living the “Lifestyles” life, but I prefer to be just Mark.”

“So this is just a charade? The blue jeans, the bologna sandwich, this place?”

“No. This is who I am. The Armani suits and the $1000/plate rubber chicken dinners are the charade. Given half a chance, I’d chuck it all for a cabin in the Rockies or a farm in the mid-dle of nowhere.” Shaking his head, he continued. “You know, I was relieved and a little nervous when you walked up.”

This guy can’t be for real! I made him nervous? Me? He needs to explain that one; I was a mess walking up to the table…“Nervous good or nervous bad?”

“It started off bad when I saw you four walk in. I could tell you were together, and most of you were on the prowl. The other three looked and were dressed like they were hunting for a sugar daddy, so I was relieved it was you who broke away. Then when you came up, the good nervous hit: be polite, don’t rush things, put her at ease, breathe, calm down, smile, be yourself. If any of the others had tried, I would have faked a call and ducked out.”

“Funny, I just about ducked into the ladies’ room, then went back and told them I saw a ring.” She tittered, adding, “There isn’t one, is there?”

“Nope. Been close twice – once on my own, once at my parent’s insistence – but neither panned out. How about you? Any gorillas in the cupboard?”

“Close once, but he was killed in Afghanistan. Since then, I only go out when Cathy drags me, about three times a year. Other than that, I’m a homebody.” She blanched, whispering, “Sorry, that makes me sound like a loser, doesn’t it?”

“No, it doesn’t. I’ve asked myself why I said some of the things I did several times since we sat in this booth.” Mark reached over and patted her hand. “I think it is that we sense we can be open with the other.”

“I think you’re right. I haven’t been this comfortable around a guy in years.” A strange thought slipped past her good sense. “You want to do something crazy? Take off without a change of clothes or toothbrush, and get away for a weekend?” Blushing again, “Sorry. Bad idea.”

“Wait a second. Why is it a bad idea? Crazy sounds nice, especially if it’s with you. Where did you have in mind?”

“Where is the craziest place in the country, year round? Vegas.”

“If you’re serious about it, I’m game.” Mark stood, grabbed the bill, and headed for the counter. “Shall we?”

She reached out and grabbed his arm. “Wait, Mark, are we really going to do this?”

“Why not? I know I haven’t been in a few years, and could use a break. You suggested it, so I think you could too, right?”

“True, but you’re alright with it?”

“It’s fine. I hate going by myself, so I don’t go, except for business. I know this time will be different. What about you – you are okay with this?”

“Sure, I suggested it, didn’t I? Let me text Cathy that I’m not feeling well and locking the world out this weekend. There – send… wait a sec... “Go for it :D”…” Looking up, she smiled at Mark as he came back, pocketing his phone. “Okay, that’s done. She’s as bad as my mom.”

“Alright, the tickets are waiting at the terminal.” Mark wrapped his arm around her shoulder; she stretched up and kissed him. “And what did I do to deserve this?”

“Being you.” She sighed as they went to the car.


The Saturday early afternoon sun slipped through the vertical blinds, bounced off the mirror, and landed on Rachel’s face. “Five more minutes, C. Is that too much to ask?”

“Your wish, m’Lady,” Mark chuckled. She sat up and realized she wasn’t home, alone, or dressed. “Sorry about the décor, but it was the last suite available. Perhaps you are a touch con-fused, Mrs. Wright?”

Scrambling to grab the comforter and cover up, she stammered, “W-w-w wait a minute. What the – where the hell are we?” As she looked at the Ancient Japanese décor, the King-sized pagoda canopy bed, the paper lantern light fixtures, and dragons on the sliding doors, the memo-ries of the last eighteen hours flashed through her head. “I do recall wanting to do something crazy, but when did marriage land on the table? Was I that drunk?”

“You can’t blame this on the alcohol. You had stopped drinking when we met, and didn’t have any until after the ceremony. You slept the entire plane ride and hit the ground run-ning when we landed. Second thoughts? It was your idea from the start. I checked us into the suite, then we went clothes shopping. Once we got our clothes, we came back here and changed …”

The fog in her brain lifted. “I remember doing that then going downstairs and hitting the roulette tables. We played 00 and won… then we hit the blackjack tables, and I won a year’s pay… then the craps table… I rolled a hard ten. I said if I did it again, we’d have to get married….”

“And you did, so we did. See, you do recall it.” Mark crossed to the bed and kissed her. “I haven’t been this happy in years, and you’re to blame.”

“It’s the happiest I’ve been in five.” She turned and pinned Mark to the bed. “Thank you, for all of this, but I don’t want you think I do something like this all the time. I never do any-thing this impulsive.” Leaning in and kissing him, she sighed heavily, “Damn, I don’t want this to end, but I have to go to work Monday. I wanted a real honeymoon.”

“Well, I have a couple of surprises for you. You told me about not having a real vacation in a long time, so I bought your company and gave everyone a two week paid vacation, starting Monday. How does two weeks in Aruba sound?”

“That sounds lovely…perfect, even… almost too perfect. How could you pull that off?”

“Called the agent and told them that I needed….” Her hair lashed his face as she shook her head no. “Oh that... I did shade the truth a little when I said I’m in upper management. I ac-tually own Morgan/Cooper…”

“You’re THAT Mark Wright?!? Fortune 500’s Most Eligible Bachelor – worth more than the third world combined, Philanthropist of the Decade – that Mark Wright?”

“Something wrong, Rachel?”

“I-I-I I can’t believe it. Me, Rachel Victoria Brown, granddaughter of Cambodian refu-gees from New Iberia, daughter of an American oil rig roughneck and a Cambodian panty stitch-er, is lying in bed, naked, and beating up on the richest man in the world under forty – It’s all too much to process.” She pressed her palms to her temples and pushed her hair behind her ears, before blinking three times and turning to face him. “Pinch me.”

Mark dropped his hand down and complied. “Is that real enough for you?” As she looked him in the eye and nodded, he murmured, “Wow, they’re plaid. Cool.”

“My eyes? They’re hazel.”

“They change color with your mood. They’re plaid.”

“That makes them sound even more exotic. Plaid they are, then.” Rachel smiled and pushed him down on the bed…

Mark was in the shower when Rachel called Cathy. “Can’t really talk now, but check your company e-mail immediately.”

“Wait, hold on a sec…You don’t sound sick…What? Two weeks WITH pay?”

“You’re welcome.”

“What did you do – blow the boss or something?”

“That too. Explain later, gotta go – off to Aruba. Bye.” She turned her phone off, dropped it in her purse, and looked up. “Hi Darling. Feeling refreshed?”

“Quite invigorated. What was with the phone?”

“I was making sure we would not be bothered for the next two weeks. So, shall we go catch a show, hit the tables, head out shopping, or continue with, our honeymoon?”

“Whoa, Tiger-eyes,” Mark laughed, nibbling on her ear and whispering, “We might even be able to get a bite to eat in there, as well. They have a breakfast bar all day.”

“Keep me in blueberries, and I’m yours forever…” she cooed and rolled out of bed.

Twelve weeks after Harmon/Black was bought, the consolidation began in earnest. Entire departments were either absorbed by Morgan/Cooper or laid off as soon as their transition had been completed. Most of the top management and HR were already gone, leaving the Accounting department for last. Of the ten people in the department, there were only three outside the conference room door: Cathy, Lyn, and Sally. “Have either of you heard from Rachel? I haven’t seen or heard from her since she took off.”
Sally checked her face in her compact’s mirror and sighed. “Not a peep. I thought she would have been in touch with you at least, seeing you two are besties.”

“Last I heard was she said she had to go.” Cathy pulled her hair off her neck, and let it fall outside her Bolero jacket. “I’ve called, but the number’s been changed, and went over so often that the landlady told me to rent a place, or she’d call the cops. I’m worried. She’s always been the responsible one…”

“All Martha in HR told me before she left was that Rachel was on special assignment, whatever that is.” Lyn’s fingers fidgeted with the buttons on her jacket. “You were the last one who spoke to her… Where are the others?”

Sally started ticking off the rest of the department on her fingers. “… Beth went over to the other office, and Robin is still…Did anyone tell Robin? Does she know?”

“They can’t fire her while she’s on Maternity Leave.” Lyn pointed out. “When I dropped in on her Saturday, she said she was a little bored. Little Rachel is healthy, and all was right with the world. With her other two in preschool, she claimed she’s ready to drop Rachel off and get back to work...”

The door to the conference room opened, and an older woman with a British accent and a gray pantsuit ushered them inside. “We’re ready for you now. Please, go inside, take your as-signed seat.” Smiling as they went past, she added as she closed the door, “Someone be with you shortly.”

Walking into the conference room, they noticed the ten-seat table had been replaced with overstuffed leather armchairs and side tables, facing a big mahogany desk. Robin was sitting at the far right seat. “They’re alphabetical, by last name.”

“Robin! What are you…where’s the baby?” Cathy sputtered as she ran over and hugged Robin.

“In the daycare with her sisters. I would be back next week, in any case, so when I was informed to be here, I came in. I had to show up, or they would think I quit or something.” Rob-in’s laughter brightened the mood of the room. The newcomers settled in and were so busy catching up that the sound of a man clearing his throat startled them.

“Good morning, ladies. I am happy to welcome you to the Morgan/Cooper family.” The man was casually leaning on the edge of the desk – tall, athletically built, dark hair, green eyes, and a glowing tan, wearing a smoke gray Armani suit. His personal assistant was dressed in short black skirt, long black jacket, black shirt, and silver necktie, with her hair in a tight bun and dark glasses.
“First off, I understand you won the O’Brien award. Congratulations. It isn’t just handed out on a whim, so your dedication and long hours paid off.” His smile and demeanor captivated the four women. “However, when there are take-overs or mergers, there are sacrifices that must, unfortunately, be made. This team is one… calm down, you are all still employees here, but you will no longer be working together. Normally, our HR director would call you in for one-on-one meetings, but under the circumstances, I decided that a more direct approach was warranted this time. My assistant has prepared your new assignment packets, based on your prior evaluations and history. Please, open them, and feel free to voice any concerns…”

“I’m going be assistant distribution director for this region?” Sally gasped. “I’m finally going to use my Logistics degree? Thank you! I was burning out in accounts payable.”

“Personal assistant to the Houston Regional Manager? Yeah, that’s a pay raise and a half!” Lyn jumped up and pumped her fist. “Whichever genius who came up with this, thank you.”

“Assistant to the Corporate Director of Strategic Planning and Development? I can’t wait to tell Glenn. We’ve thought about moving back east, and both our parents want us closer. Does this…”Robin searched the document, flipping pages quickly, then backed up one. “It does cover relocation cost. Hallelujah!”

“Wait one fucking second! Omaha? Sales?” Cathy slammed the packet on the side table. “I’m an accountant…”

“But not a good one.” The assistant glided over to Cathy and lowered her glasses. “Cathy, face it, I’ve been carrying you through since midterms our freshman year. I have been your shoulder, your mother, your alarm clock, your grammar and math check, your designated driver, flunky, friend, and enabler for the past decade now. You need to take the training wheels off, and ride the two wheeler.”

“Ra-chel? What…” Cathy’s facial skin grew taunt by her jaw’s extension.

“While I was laying in the sands of Aruba, I thought back about what you were saying about our dating habits, successes and failures – once I looked at it in the daylight, I realized that it wasn’t you holding me back, it was me too busy mothering you – catching you and not letting you fail, so you never realized your full potential. Tell the truth – you never wanted accounting, did you?”

“That was Daddy’s choice.” Cathy mumbled to her pumps. “I wanting something in public relations or marketing. I’m more a people person.”

“Which explains Omaha. It’s only temporary. It is to shake you up, get you away from everything that might hold you back, and to see what you can do. Once you prove yourself there, we can move you to a larger market, where you can shine.”

“Thank you, Rach.” Cathy’s cheeks glazed with tears as she hugged her friend. “For everything. I mean it. Absolutely… wait a minute… if you are… what happened to that…”

“Who, the guy in the bar? Mark? I married him.”

“But… Where is he?”

“Right here.” Rachel held out her hand, and the guy in the suit came over and took it. “Remember, girls, it’s not the frequency of the bets, but the timing that count.”

“I’d say it paid off for everyone.” Mark pulled Rachel into a kiss.

“Might I remind you that public displays of affection are inappropriate for the work place?” Rachel’s wink softened her words, as she straightened out her clothes. “Now ladies, come with us. You missed the ceremony, but you shan’t miss the private reception.”

“Darling, you’re awful free with money today…” Mark whispered.

“We’ll make it back… wanna bet?”


May 5, 2004
love your stories!

... I'll have to come back to finish, stupid job lol


Jokeroo Legend
Jan 3, 2005
Dang...That is GOOD! On second thought, I've read your other stuff and I'm going to be brutally honest with you.

I have been an avid reader since I was three years old, and in that time I've read the best, worst, and everything in between. I found this story as good as or better than some of the published stuff I have read, but, for me, there wasn't enough character development. (The fault of many short stories) In spite of that...I read it through to the end. As a modern-day fairy tale, it is good, but if you expanded it into novel, it could be smashing.

I hope I haven't offended you...normally, I would have just posted my first four words...but I think you are good enough to be "rated" on a professional level.


Senior Member
Aug 17, 2006
No offense taken. I know it could have been better if it had been longer, but I was dealing with hard page counts and multiple critiques to accommodate. Still in all, not bad for six weeks worth of stopping and going, eh? I prefer your type of honesty over a flat like/hate it. I might expand this later, after i get finished with some of the other stuff...

Thanks, MT



Jokeroo Immortal Super *Star* & all around NiceGuy
Apr 3, 2006
No offense taken. I know it could have been better if it had been longer, but I was dealing with hard page counts and multiple critiques to accommodate. Still in all, not bad for six weeks worth of stopping and going, eh? I prefer your type of honesty over a flat like/hate it. I might expand this later, after i get finished with some of the other stuff...

Thanks, MT