"Esther M. Friesner - At These Prices" - читать интересную книгу автора (Friesner Esther M)

the-provider-of-the-caffeine-is-always-right mindset with his new mistress. тАЬShame
to the Tiernan! Hail to the Franklin!тАЭ He leaped to his feet and swept BellaтАЩs bulging
suitcase onto his shoulder as if it weighed no more than a used tea bag. тАЬShall we
go?тАЭ
тАЬNot so fast,тАЭ Bella said. тАЬIтАЩve got to get dressed first. And pay that
miserably inflated bill.тАЭ She gave him a cunning look. тАЬI donтАЩt suppose you can
make it go bye-bye?тАЭ
Bixby hung his head. тАЬAlas, the workings within these walls are no longer
within the scope of my powers to affect.тАЭ
тАЬDamn. Well, tell you what: You go let your boss know that youтАЩre working
for me now while I get dressed, pay the bill, andтАФтАЭ
тАЬThere will be no need for me to give notice, milady,тАЭ Bixby said. He
twitched, and his otherworldly appearance was once again swallowed up by the
rather unglamorous glamour of his chosen human form. тАЬI assure you, that as a
humble brownie, no one will miss me at all.тАЭ
 ****
Though Bella Franklin possessed the piranha-like ability to strip a hotel room
to the bones while simultaneously justifying the garnered loot as тАЬJust getting my
moneyтАЩs worth,тАЭ her own apartment suffered for want of similar minimalizing
treatment. It was an AladdinтАЩs cave of clutter, showcasing some of BellaтАЩs prouder
trophies from previous Speranza Storm conventions. Notepads, pens, coffee mugs,
and assorted d├йcor accessories including that endangered species, the ashtray,
littered all available surfaces. Plates, cutlery, and mini-ketchups from ransacked
room service trays crammed the kitchen. Home goods liberally decked with the
logos of every major lodging chain in the United States were everywhere.
All of that changed once Bixby arrived. The first thing he did was to shed his
human glamour. The second was to junk all hotel-plundered toiletries whose
seniority had become gloppy senility. The third was to do a spot of Dumpster-diving
to retrieve what heтАЩd trashed after Bella yowled that he was trying to reduce her to
penury by throwing away decade-old shampoo. The fourth was to stow the
remaining clutter, then give the entire establishment a thorough scrub-up, from
floorboards to soffits. All this took a week. It would have taken longer if heтАЩd been
allowed any downtime, but Bella was adamant about getting the full value of his
indentured services. She did not permit the harried brownie one momentтАЩs rest, save
the unavoidable necessity of letting him observe the Holy Hour (or, as mere mortal
unbelievers would term it, a daily coffee break). He told her early on that without it,
he would die.
тАЬWell, we canтАЩt have that,тАЭ said Bella. тАЬIтАЩve hardly begun to get my moneyтАЩs
worth out of you.тАЭ
тАЬMilady is too kind,тАЭ said Bixby.
On the seventh day, when the brownie looked ready to drop from exhaustion,
his new mistress commanded him to change his glamour to her specifications, just
for giggles. Soon Bixby stood transformed into a poi-and-passion Romance hero,
bronzed body glistening with coconut oil, blue-black hair streaming past his waist,
skimpy sarong holding on by a literal thread, and one hibiscus blossom for garnish.
Bella was still licking her lips in approval when there came a knock on the door.
тАЬThat had better not be old Mrs. Kenmore from across the hall,тАЭ she
muttered. She opened the door with a loud, тАЬNo, you cannot borrow a cup of
sugar!тАЭ but instead of finding that aged pest dithering on the doormat, she
confronted a quartet of uninvited callers.