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Cat gives this one 5 Meows with a 1 Sweet Purr heat index...
Trick has been working for Redden and sons since his father passed away. He is saving his money hoping to eventually buy in as a partner someday and get hs dads name back on his legacy.. In the meantime he is treated like Cinderfella by the evil boss and his two sons, running him on errands and even stealing his designs.
One day he saves a young man that is standing in the road ogling the sites. He finds out Edwin is his fairy Godfather in training. Edwin wants to help Trick and help him get what belongs to him. and his heart's desires.
His Fairy Godfather is such a cute story. It does remind me of a slight take on Cinderella or should I say Cinderfella.I loved how kind and hard working Trick is despite how mean his boss and his sons are. He is very dedicated. I adored Edwin. he is so fun and naive and i enjoyed seeing the world through his eyes.
If you are looking for a charming story to help you escape the daily grind, like fairies and a happy ever after this is for you.
The booming voice reverberated down the curved staircase, shaking the windows that lined all four walls of the office.
Trick cringed. It wasn’t getting yelled at that he objected to. That he was used to. James Redden, his boss, believed nicknames were “lowbrow and an affront to the woman who named you.”
He hated it.
Mr. Redden seemed to have an aversion to many things; for instance, the color yellow, decaf coffee, phone calls before 10 a.m., and the intercom, the telephone, and e-mail in general. When he wanted Trick’s attention, he preferred to bellow. Personally, Trick believed Mr. Redden loved the sound of his own voice roaring through the office. He was the type of man who got a kick out of pulling everyone’s attention away from what they were doing and forcing them to focus on him.
Trick stood in the doorway to Redden’s office and waited as his boss ignored him completely. It was always this way. His voice always stressed an urgency, but when Trick arrived, he was made to wait at least five minutes, standing with his dick in his hand—so to speak—waiting for Redden to summon the energy to deal with him.
Redden’s office space was grandiose, taking up most of the upper floor, his giant desk standing menacingly in the center of the room. For a man as gifted in design as he was, he certainly had no concept of warmth or comfort. Stark colors and harsh lines created a feeling of unease in Trick that hadn’t settled even after years of running at his boss’s beck and call.
“Have you finished typing up the proposal for Mrs. Bradley?” Redden demanded after an ample period of time had lapsed.
He huffed a sigh and rolled his eyes. “Yes, Patrick. The proposal. I e-mailed you the details. You were to type it up to send out to her. She wanted it by four.”
Trick glanced at the oversized clock that hung to the left of Redden’s desk. It was 3:52.
“I haven’t received an e-mail, sir.”
“Goddammit, Patrick, you incompetent twat. If you can’t do your fucking job, I will replace you with someone who can.”
“Yes, sir,” he said, biting his tongue against telling Redden exactly what he could do with the job. He and Trick both knew he hadn’t e-mailed the details. Trick was meticulous about staying on top of his work. If there had been an e-mail, he would have seen it, and he would have taken care of it.
“I’ll resend it now. Make sure you have it to the client by four. There are plenty of guys smarter than you who would love to work in your place. Don’t give me a reason to fire you.”
“Yes, sir,” Trick said again with a curt nod. He waited to be dismissed, which came with a flippant wave of Redden’s hand, before Trick turned and hurried back down the stairs to his desk.
He pulled up the program and got to work. As much as he hated his boss, Mrs. Bradley was a lovely woman. They’d spoken several times on the phone, and he knew the house she was building in the Hamptons was intended as a summer home for her grandchildren. She wanted it to be perfect, and Trick wanted it to be perfect for her.
“Fucked up again, didn’t you, Pat?” The name he hated more than Patrick dripped off Jasper’s tongue. Trick scowled up at Jasper’s slicked-back hair, the style reminiscent of a greasy used-car salesman.
Once again Trick bit his tongue. It was becoming more and more difficult not to lose his shit in the office. Jasper thought because he was the boss’s son, he could get away with whatever he wanted.
Scratch that. He could get away with whatever he wanted, and most days, he just wanted to be a dick. It was as though it was coded in his family’s DNA. Daddy dearest and his twin boys, Jasper and Leif, made up Redden and Sons, and in addition to designing beautiful homes, they preyed on Trick like lions singling out the wounded baby zebra.
“Excuse me, Jasper, I just need to finish—”
Jasper cut him off. “Not really sure why my dad keeps you around. Seems like you can’t do anything right.”
Trick ignored him and turned his attention back to the computer screen.
“Hey. Dipshit. I’m talking to you,” Jasper said, sliding a piece of paper in front of Trick’s screen, blocking his view.
Trick looked up at him, unimpressed. “What can I do for you, Jasper? Do you need something? Because your dad has asked me to—”
He interrupted once more. “I’m hungry.”
He sounded like a toddler.
“All right. Let me finish this up, and I’ll get you something to eat. What would you like?”
“A cheesesteak from Al’s. With extra cheese.”
Trick eyed his shiny forehead, then his belly, complete with the buttons close to bursting off his polyester-blend shirt. “You got it,” he said, grinning.
Cate Ashwood wrote her very first story in a hot pink binder when she was in the second grade and found her passion for writing. Her first successful foray into romance writing came when she wrote her best friend, who was experiencing a case of unrequited love, her own happily ever after.
Cate’s life has taken a number of different and adventurous roads. She now lives a stone’s throw from the ocean, just outside of Vancouver, British Columbia with her husband, son, and two cats. Her life is filled with family and friends, travel, and, of course, books.
Nico Jaye is a fan of all things HEA and has dragged her romance collection along for her moves from San Francisco to Los Angeles to Chicago to New York and back. She thinks reading is awesome and loves that she can hang out night after night with crinoline-wearing debutantes, brawny firemen in suspenders, and werewolf shifters with Scottish brogues. An overall feline enthusiast, Nico secretly (or not so secretly?) adores Hello Kitty, cat GIFs, spontaneous traveling, pretending to be crafty, emoticons, hot menfolk, and parenthetical statements (not necessarily in that order). Her favorite stories are those that marry smut and fluff (a.k.a. smuff) into a gooey ball of HEA and fuzzies.
You can find Nico chit chatting about cats, popcorn for dinner, impulse trips to Iceland, and crocheting four scarves in one night at any of the following:
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