She refused to tell him, saying only that she had a plan, but needed to go out for supplies. His black curls bounced as he nodded and smiled at her, waving goodbye. Then lowered his head back to her tablet computer, which he’d been obsessed with since their last discussion. She was tempted to dismiss the fantasy concept and tear off her sundress, pushing him to the floor and taking him there in the foyer, but instead she grabbed her purse and let the door close behind her. As Jaime’s heels clicked down the stones of her walk, she pressed down the questions that were bothering her now. If tonight would be her second fantasy, the next would be her third. What would happen then? Would he vanish back into the bottle, forever, or at least until his next mistress called? It had been over forty years since the last time he’d surfaced in her world. Would she even still be alive the next time it happened? Would she ever see him again? She wanted to see him again. Get a grip, James. Not everyone gets to have three wishes granted by a literal Greek god.
