The Genie's Heartwish, page 1
The Genie's Heartwish
Heartwishes, Volume 2
Daisy Dexter Dobbs
Published by Department of Daydreams, 2022.
This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.
THE GENIE'S HEARTWISH
First edition. June 14, 2022.
Copyright © 2022 Daisy Dexter Dobbs.
ISBN: 978-1587850585
Written by Daisy Dexter Dobbs.
Also by Daisy Dexter Dobbs
Heartwishes
The Viking's Heartwish (Coming Soon)
The Genie's Heartwish (Coming Soon)
Watch for more at Daisy Dexter Dobbs’s site.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Also By Daisy Dexter Dobbs
Dedication
Book Description
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
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Further Reading: The Firefighter's Heartwish
Also By Daisy Dexter Dobbs
About the Author
Mr. Daisy (aka Mike) is like my own personal genie. His ability to keep me laughing, even when he’s telling the same groan-worthy dad jokes over and over for years and years, is the closest thing to magic I’ve ever encountered. There’s nothing as wonderful, powerful, and healing as a good bout of laughter. It really is the best medicine, and Mike inherently seems to know that. If I had 3 genie wishes, one of them would probably be to ensure I never lose the ability to laugh, especially at myself. Take equal parts laughter, and soul-deep love with a guy like Mike, and what you get is an elixir better than any genie could blink up. I’m truly one very fortunate woman.
Book Description
~<>~
Five thousand years ago, Sumerian warrior Zakkar Tymon gallantly protected the virtue of a love struck virgin priestess, dooming him to an eternity of servitude to women. Reduced to being a slave to women’s impulses, this bold, brave hero now exists solely to give women pleasure, act upon their every urge, and grant them three wishes.
Months after reaching her goal weight, popular weight-loss counselor, and baker extraordinaire, Laila Malone, is tired of waiting for men to fall at her feet, dumbstruck by her leaner visage. So now she’s focusing on business instead of love. With enough money, maybe she can open the diet-conscious bakery she’s dreamed of owning.
On the way home from work, a sign for an estate sale at a mansion in the ritziest part of town, catches Laila’s eye. Maybe the ancient bottle she unearths in the musty basement is a treasure that will allow Laila and her dog to happily grow old together—alone, but filthy rich...and thin.
When Laila uncorks her find, she gasps in fear as a half-naked, saber-wielding man exits the bottle in a vapor. With sun-bronzed muscles, long dark hair and hypnotic eyes, he’s devastatingly handsome. The epitome of all her fantasies, he says he’s here to give her pleasure. If she has to lose her mind, this is exactly the hallucination Laila wants.
The Genie’s Heartwish is book 2 of the Heartwishes series. This full-length contemporary romance novel is full of warmth and humor—with a very special touch of magic and a healthy dose of fantasy. It’s inspired by the author’s previously published novella, Samantha and her Genie. While all Heartwishes books are part of a standalone series, you’ll enjoy them more if you read them in order. These are small town romances with happily-ever-afters, and no cliffhangers.
Chapter One
Glassfloat Bay, Oregon: present day
~<>~
“EMPATHY AND SYMPATHY, people. That’s key,” Bunny Turner stated with conviction, rapping her pointer against the image on the screen. “If we want to keep clients coming back, we must convince them we know what they’re going through.” Her gaze roamed the crowd. The picture of sincerity, she tapped her fingers on her chest in the area where her heart would be—if she had one. “Let them know we’ve been there too. That we feel their pain.”
Laila Malone knew what was coming next. Working for Tuned by Turner the last few years, she’d been through enough of her boss’s corporate training seminars to be able to repeat the rarely varying sermon word for word.
And how do we make clients believe we’ve been tubby and can relate with their problems if it’s not true? Laila silently mouthed along as Bunny spoke, resisting the temptation to roll her eyes and groan.
“With creative embellishment!” the room of weight loss counselors replied.
Nodding, Bunny offered a calculated smile. “While TBT offers a proven weight loss program incorporating diet, counseling and exercise along with our nutritious line of packaged foods, those aren’t the things that keep our satisfied clients coming back each week, is it?”
“No,” the counselors dutifully chorused.
“It’s you.” Bunny’s voice was a reverent whisper while her benevolent smile bordered on heartfelt tears. “Without you dedicated counselors, Tuned by Turner would be just another diet program.” Bunny’s brown-eyed gaze swept the room of ninety men and women who had traveled to TBT’s corporate hub in the small coastal town. “Let me hear it. What are we, people?”
“We’re number one!” Hoots, hollers and clapping ensued as the troops rallied. Punching her fist high into the air, Bunny boasted a proud grin.
“At Tuned by Turner we turn tubbies into triumphs!” Bunny crowed.
While most overweight women don’t like being called fat, Laila seriously doubted they found tubby any more endearing. With a surreptitious gaze around the room, she noted only a handful of the counselors were bigger than a size four.
She’d often heard her lean coworkers, most of whom had never been overweight by more than five pounds, openly ridiculing overweight clients behind their backs.
An eighty pound weight loss veteran, Laila had a strong sense of compassion for TBT’s clients. She didn’t need creative embellishment to understand what it was like to be the fattest woman in the room, to catch people snickering behind her back, to be heartbroken when a glimpse in the mirror revealed a reflection looking nothing like her imagined self.
She’d also learned losing weight wasn’t necessarily a panacea. Shifting one’s internal self-perception wasn’t easy. Sometimes she’d catch her reflection in a store window, momentarily wondering who the slender, attractive blue-eyed brunette was staring back at her. Her default thinking still had her picturing herself as...tubby.
Still waiting for the profusion of changes guaranteed to come with weight loss, Laila felt cheated. The diet industry promised her life would transform after reaching her goal. Men were supposed to fall at her feet, dumbstruck by her leaner visage.
Although finding good men was challenging, Laila knew they were out there. Her fiancé, Tim McKevitt, had been a salt of the earth sort of guy. He lost his life three years ago, falling into an icy crevasse in Antarctica.
“Take me for example.”
Bunny’s commanding voice snapped Laila back to the present as the chic owner of TBT gestured to her pink-suited, model-thin frame.
“I convince clients that I can personally relate to diet and deprivation. They know I once battled a heartbreaking weight problem.” She paused before adding, “It’s true. I used to be nearly obese.” Bunny validated her statement by puffing out her cheeks and positioning her arms to indicate a substantial belly. With a sensitive sniffle, she shuddered as she smoothed her TBT-pink fingernails along her beige-blonde hair, tucking a nonexistent stray lock into the bun at her nape.
“I ate my way all the way up to a size six back in college.” A practiced speaker, Bunny allowed for a pregnant pause, slowly nodding as her gaze swept the room. “It took me more than a semester of living on coffee, lettuce, cigarettes, and sticking my fingers down my throat to get back into my size zeros.”
Formerly a luxury car saleswoman, Bunny Turner had built a financial empire on her reputation as a fat guru. Disillusioned, Laila discovered early on that Bunny was cold, calculating and devoid of compassion. Especially when it came to TBT clients, people who’d struggled with the pain and complexities of living as a fat person in a thin world.
“Get ready,” Laila’s sister Maureen whispered near her ear. “Here comes the glorified bullshit.”
Laila bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing at Reen’s knowing remark. Her cute, sassy blonde sister was one of the only other people over the age of thirty in the room, and one of the only who’d lost a significant amount of weight.
Reen’s fiancé had also died. Robert Brechler was an English professor. He and Reen purchased a house together, a fixer-upper, to move in afte
Laila and Reen supported each other through their weight loss journeys, and the loss of their loves.
Emotional eating had the sisters packing on pounds due to stress, grief, and loneliness, along with poor eating habits. After losing weight, Laila and Reen applied for employment at Tuned by Turner, idealistic in their shared mission of helping people shed excess weight and live healthier, happier lives.
“Of course,” Bunny continued, “it wouldn’t be prudent for me to expound on how I actually lost the weight. I allow clients to believe I accomplished it by following TBT methods. It’s essentially a helpful LWL. Little white lie,” she clarified, hanging invisible quotes over the words with her fingers.
“That LWL doesn’t hurt anyone because TBT is the best weight loss solution out there. Since we care, really and truly care,” her expression was infused with soap opera dramatics, “about their health and wellbeing, we understand how LWLs can help clients achieve their goals. Right, counselors?”
The room exploded with shouts of “Right!” and booming applause while Laila and Reen slunk low in their chairs, exchanging dubious looks.
As the session closed, Bunny held aloft a navy blue canvas bag embroidered with the company’s pink logo. “I’m giving each of you a TBT tote containing our ten newest foods. They’re dynamite, people. Fabulous fat-burning gems.”
Setting the bag on the table behind her, she drew out each gem, describing them in such a way that would make anyone unfamiliar with TBT’s line of foods salivate. Those already familiar with the company’s barely palatable edibles knew better.
Arms wide, in a universal embrace, Bunny told them, “During lunch you’ll sample our tofu-based salad dressings, shelf-stable Saucy Chicken Cakes, and...are you ready?” Bunny looked as if she were about to announce she’d be serving gooey hot fudge sundaes. “Our brand new Berry-Lime Tapioca Tofu Pudding Cups!”
Again, rousing applause, while Laila and Reen engaged in inadvertent shudders.
“Our poor clients,” Laila muttered beneath her breath.
“Your main focus this quarter, counselors, is to push TBT foods. Sell, sell, sell, people! Remember, our main revenue comes from our exclusive line of foods. And the more money TBT makes, the more money you make!”
“Sell, sell, sell, huh?” Reen whispered to Laila. “Heck, I can’t even give those foods away they taste so bad.”
“Makes you wonder who they use as taste testers,” Laila whispered back.
With a confirming nod, Reen murmured, “My mind is screaming Dutch baby! Let’s grab one at Griffin’s Café after we get out of here.”
Laila gave her sister a sideways glance. If she didn’t watch herself, under Reen’s dastardly influence she’d start packing on the pounds again. “I’ll split one with you.”
“Bacon too? Seriously, what’s a puffy pancake without bacon?” Reen gave a wicked conspirator’s wink. “We deserve it. We’ve been soooo good. Um...unless you’d rather stick around and dig into tapioca tofu pudding cups instead.”
Just the name was enough to make Laila wince. “Bacon it is. Just a strip. And only if we walk afterward.”
“Deal.”
At the end of the seminar, Laila and Reen claimed their embroidered totes packed full of inedible edibles before surreptitiously heading for the exit. They almost made it before Bunny’s piercing voice seized them.
“Uh-oh...” Laila recalled the last time they’d tried to sneak out of a meeting only to have Bunny hook them into being on a panel to sample the newest foodstuffs. Laila had no appetite the rest of the day after ingesting all that gloppy, chemical-laden stuff that tried to pass for real food.
“Oh please God, please, please, please don’t let her make us stay for lunch again,” Reen muttered, crossing the fingers on both hands and closing her eyes.
In lieu of an invitation to dine on TBT goodies, Bunny handed each of them a sealed letter. After brief innocuous small talk, she turned on her stiletto heel, wiggling her miniscule butt as she headed for the unappetizing lunch spread.
“Let’s get the hell out of here while we can.” Reen snagged Laila’s uniform jacket, hauling her to the door.
~<>~
“I haven’t seen you two in here in weeks,” Annalise Griffin, owner of the retro-themed café said, handing menus to Laila and Reen. “Great to see you back.”
“Thanks, Annalise. It’s been too long since we’ve treated ourselves to one of your Dutch baby pancakes,” Reen said.
“How’ve you been doing?” Laila asked.
“Good. Crazy busy—and you won’t hear me complaining about that.” She grinned. “Lots of tourists lately. I need to add a couple more servers. My sister, Sabrina, is moving back home from Pennsylvania.” Annalise’s expression twisted. “She just filed for divorce and said she’ll need a job so that’ll work out great.”
“Sorry about the divorce,” Laila said. “I’m glad we’ll finally get a chance to meet her though. She was already gone when we moved here from Chicago.”
“You’ll love her. She’s a doll and so is my adorable little nephew, Harry.”
“How’s Hud doing,” Reen asked, dropping her gaze to the tabletop and drawing invisible circles with her finger. “Is he around?”
“Nope. Hudson doesn’t take time to eat.” Annalise tsked. “I think my brother’s even busier than I am. The guy never stops working. He and his crew are renovating the old library. You can imagine what a job that is. Hey, I’ve made some changes around here too. What do you think?”
“I was just checking it out. I love what you’ve done,” Laila gestured across the room. “The corner area with the loveseat, coffee table and cushy-looking chairs looks so cozy and inviting.”
“It’s a big thumbs up from me,” Reen agreed, making the sign.
“Thanks. I’m getting a lot of positive feedback from the customers. I got the furniture at the Maythorne Manor estate sale up on the hill. It’s been going on the past few days. Have you two gone yet?”
“No.” Laila gave a little bounce of excitement. “I had no idea.”
“Thanks a lot, Annalise,” Reen said with mock annoyance. “Now she’s going to drag me all the way up to Beauregard Hill just so we can go to that sale.”
Annalise laughed. “It’s worth it, Reen. Aside from furniture, they’re selling most everything else too. You’re still knitting and crocheting, right?”
Laila laughed at that. Before Reen could answer, she said, “Are you kidding? The two things Reen will never give up are knitting and chocolate.”
“I saw lots of yarn when I was there,” Annalise told Reen. “Skeins in all different colors.” Her eyebrows jiggled playfully.
Reen’s eyes went wide. “Really?”
“You did agree to a walk,” Laila reminded her sister, nailing her with her best guilt-producing look. “Can you think of a better way to burn off the bazillion calorie lunch we’re about to order? Plus you know you can’t ignore the lure of yarn.”
Folding her arms across her chest, Reen sat back in her seat and grumbled. “I suppose.”
Returning her attention to Annalise, Laila asked, “Did you spot any baking-related stuff, or ceramic salt and pepper shakers?” While she’d been trying to cut back on her packrat tendencies, she had a passion for collecting kitchen antiques.
“Yes and yes.” Annalise smiled.
“Great. We’ll be there all afternoon,” Reen mumbled.
“Yarn,” Laila reminded her.
“Have you heard anything lately from Delaney, or your mom and stepdad?” Annalise polished the gray marbleized 50s era chrome-trimmed Formica table as she spoke. She was one of the first people their sister, Delaney, met when she moved to Glassfloat Bay from Chicago.
“Delaney and Varik are due back from their honeymoon cruise anytime now, and Mom and Tore are still enjoying themselves at their cabin in Norway,” Laila said.
“Last time I talked to Mom,” Reen added, “she said they’d be back in another month or so.”
