She didn’t. Not in her pockets then.

Damn. He needed Annabelle. Except he’d cut her out of his life.

All of the little girls were clamoring for her attention, but instead of being rattled, she seemed to like it. He made himself turn away. So what if she looked as innocent as a Disney cartoon? He didn’t forgive and he didn’t forget.

He slipped deeper into the shade of the patio. None of the girls were ready for their photos, and he had time to make a few calls, but as sure as anything, she’d catch him at it and make some withering remark. Once again, the theme from Jaws blared in his head. He looked down.

Pippi wore bright blue eye shadow and sported a rosebud mouth slick with red lipstick. He quickly shoved his Black-Berry in his pocket.

“See my wand?”

“Hey, that’s a wand, all right.” He crouched, pretending to check out her artwork, but really getting down to business. “Pippi, show Uncle Heath where you put his phone.”

She gave him a killer smile, front teeth the tiniest bit crooked, probably from that thumb. “Want phone,” she said.

“That’s great. Me, too. Let’s go find it together.”

She pointed to his pocket. “Want that phone!”

“Oh, no, you don’t.” He shot to his feet and strode away so that, if Pippi started to cry, he wasn’t anywhere in the vicinity. “Who’s ready for a picture?” he called out, hearty as all hell.

“Princess Rosa, you’re ready,” Molly said. “Go sit on the throne and let Prince Heath take your picture.”

A snort came from the general direction of Glinda the Good Witch.

“I’m scared,” the little girl whispered to Molly.

“As well you should be,” Glinda muttered.

Her comment should have aggravated him, but he hadn’t wanted to crush her spirit, just to teach her a lesson about business that was ultimately for her own good. “Do you want me to go with you?” Molly asked the child. But the little girl was gazing adoringly at Annabelle.

“I want my pitcher with her,” she said.

Molly grinned at Annabelle. “Fairy Godmother, you seem to have a photo call.”

“Sure.” Annabelle took the child’s hand and headed toward the throne. As she reached his side, she stuck her nose in the air and swept past him. The nose, he couldn’t help but notice, had a pink glitter smudge at the tip.

After that, it seemed as though every princess in the land wanted her photo taken with the good fairy godmother, who, not coincidentally, acted as if the royal photographer didn’t exist. He knew how to play that game, and he confined his comments to the girls. “Give me a smile, princess. That’s good.”

Annabelle might be ignoring him, but she giggled with the children, cast magic spells, arbitrated disputes, and let Princess Pilar see what fairy godmothers wore under their gowns. He was more than a little interested himself. Unfortunately, this particular fairy godmother wore gray drawstring shorts instead of the bright red thong that would have been his choice. But, hey, that was just him.