with heavy dark circles. But in the midst of that miserable, hungover look…there was a glint of something puzzled and surprised.
“Work time,” said Maddie cheerfully, standing up. She poked her brother’s shoulder, making him wince and turn his attention from me. I was glad. “You going to survive your last couple hours?”
“Yeah,” he muttered, drinking more water.
“Go count inventory in the back,” I told him, standing as well. “I don’t want customers thinking our staff can’t hold their liquor. They’d be over at the chain stores so fast, it wouldn’t even be funny.”
Maddie’s lips quirked into a smile as her brother wearily rose to his feet. “Hey, Georgina. Do you mind if Doug and I switch shifts on Tuesday? I need to go run some wedding errands during business hours.”
Doug cut her a look. “When were you going to ask if I minded?”
“Sure,” I said, trying not to wince at the word “wedding.” “You can work the night shift with me.”
“You want to come along?” she asked. “You said you would.”
“I did?”
“Last night.”
I frowned. God only knew how many promises I’d made and had now forgotten, thanks to vodka and weird magical forces. Vaguely, I recalled her showing me wedding pictures. “I think I have some errands of my own to run.”
“One of the places is right around the corner from you,” she urged.
“Maddie,” said Seth hastily, clearly as uncomfortable with this change of topic as I was. “If she’s busy—”
“You can’t be busy all day,” Maddie begged. “Please?”
I knew it was disastrous, knew it would be courting heart-ache and trouble. But Maddie was my friend, and the pleading look in her eyes did something to my insides. It was guilt, I realized. Guilt over how Seth and I had betrayed her. Her expression now was full of such faith and hope in me—me, the best friend she had in Seattle and the only one she believed could help her plan this wedding.
Which is why I found myself agreeing, just as I had last night. Only this time, I had no alcohol to blame. “Okay.”
Guilt was probably the worst culprit of all when it came to stupid behavior.
Chapter 3
I worked until closing that night and didn’t get home until around ten. To my surprise, I found Roman on the couch eating a bowl of cereal while the cats competed for who could take up the most attention on his lap. Honestly, they seemed to love him more than me lately. It was a betrayal of Caesarean proportions.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, sitting on the armchair opposite him. I noticed then that the last of the party untidiness had been cleaned. Somehow, I suspected mentioning that would result in him never cleaning again. “I figured you’d be out chasing Jerome’s succubus.”
Roman stifled a yawn and set the empty bowl on the coffee table. Immediately, both cats sprang off his lap to get to the residual milk. “I’m on break. Been following her all day, though.”
“And?” My natural curiosity aside, I was uneasy about the idea of Jerome’s authority being called into question. The arch-demon might annoy me sometimes, but I had no desire for a new boss. We’d come dangerously close to a leadership change when he’d been summoned, and I hadn’t been impressed with any of the candidates.
“And it was incredibly boring. You’re much more fun to stalk. She went shopping for most of the day. I didn’t even know stores would let you take that much shit into dressing rooms. Then, she picked up a guy at a bar, and, well, you can figure out the rest.”
I rather liked the idea of Roman suffering while Simone had sex. “Figured your voyeuristic tendencies would be into that kind of pornographic display.”
He made a face. “It wasn’t good porn. It was like the nasty, kinky porn they keep in the back of the store. The kind of stuff that only really sick people go after.”
“So no clandestine meetings to report to Jerome?”
“Nope.”
“Makes sense, I guess.” I stretched out and put my feet out on the table. With Doug incapacitated, I’d spent a rare day on registers, standing more than I usually did anymore. Unless I was mistaken, Roman’s eyes lingered on my legs before returning to my face. “If she didn’t see any immortal action today, she’d have nothing to tell on.”
“Not until tonight, at least.”
“Tonight?”
“How scattered are you? Peter and Cody are having one of their things tonight.”
“Oh, man. I forgot.” Peter loved to throw dinners and get-togethers and seemed unconcerned that I’d just had a major party of my own. As a nocturnal creature, his soirees always took place late at night. “And Simone’s going?”
“Yup. Mei’s with her now, and I’ll relieve her at Peter’s.”
“So you’ll be there in spirit, if not in person.”
“Something like that.” He smiled at my joke, and for the first time since he’d returned to town, I saw a genuinely amused sparkle in those teal eyes. It reminded me a bit of the witty, gallant guy I used to date. It also occurred to me that this was a rare non-antagonistic conversation for us. It was almost…normal. Misunderstanding my silence, he gave me a wary look. “You aren’t thinking of wussing out, are you? Your day couldn’t have been that hard.”
I actually had been thinking of wussing out. After yesterday’s drama and now my regret over yielding to Maddie, I wasn’t sure I was up for my immortal friends’ zany hijinks.
“Come on,” Roman said. “Simone is so boring. And I don’t even mean her activities. She’s just bland. If you’re not there to entertain me, I don’t know what I’ll do.”
“Are you saying the rest of my friends aren’t entertaining?”
“They pale in comparison.”
I finally agreed to go. Although, it wouldn’t have surprised me if his interest in me making an appearance was just to bum a ride. Nonetheless, I was in a good mood as I headed over to Capitol Hill. It was a little weird having Roman with me and not with me. To continue his spying, he’d gone invisible and without signature. It was like having a ghost in my car.
As usual, I was one of the last to arrive. The Three Amigos—Peter, Cody, and Hugh—were there, dressed in their usual attire now, rather than historically accurate costumes. That meant a perfectly coordinated sweater vest and slacks for Peter, jeans and a T-shirt for Cody, and business casual for Hugh. I held the door open a little longer than usual, to facilitate Roman sweeping in after me. From there, I took it on faith that he was hanging out. As soon as he let us in, Peter scurried back to his kitchen without a word.
Simone was there too. She sat on the loveseat, long legs perfectly crossed and hands resting on her knees. Her body was slim with respectably sized breasts, clad in a black skirt and silvery silk blouse. Her hair was—unsurprisingly—long and blond. Most succubi seemed to think blond was a sure-fire way to get guys in bed. I considered that attitude a sign of inexperience. I’d been a brunette—albeit one with gold highlights—for a while and never had trouble scoring action.
Hugh sat next to her, wearing the flirtatious face that was standard for him when it came to wooing women into bed. Simone regarded him with a polite smile, one she turned on me when I entered. She stood up and held out her hand. Her immortal signature smelled like violets and put me in mind of moonlight and cello music.
“You must be Georgina,” she said. “Nice to meet you.”
She kept that same polite expression, and I could tell it wasn’t faked.