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Emmy gave a huge sigh. “Get over here.”
Twenty minutes later, Emmy had done what she could for me. I didn’t have many dresses appropriate for a meeting with the most powerful magical folks in the city, so Emmy had let me borrow hers. A short black dress with high black heels finally passed her test. Ultimately, I’d given up on the curls and slicked my hair back into a low chignon because Emmy “didn’t have time to deal with my rat’s nest”.
She did, however, have time to add red lipstick and a few extra swipes of mascara that I suspected made me look like a raccoon, while Emmy insisted it made me look alluring and mysterious. Not that I cared, seeing as I wasn’t planning to stay all that long. Just long enough to hear the candidates announced and snag a few drinks from the open bar. Then we’d crash at the hotel in our complimentary room and head back in the morning.
“Let’s go,” I said. “I owe Chopstix money. I’m afraid he won’t let me get my car out of the lot tonight if I don’t give him something. I’m a few days late.”
“Should I be scared of the fact that you owe a guy named Chopstix money?”
“He’s really friendly, so long as he’s paid.”
That didn’t seem to assuage Emmy’s fears, but I was already halfway out the door. Emmy followed me. When we got to the sketchy restaurant on the human side of town, Chopstix was nowhere to be seen.
“Guess I’ll get him the money later,” I said. “We gotta go.”
Emmy looked around as if we might be attacked at any second. “You never cease to scare the pants off me.”
“Good. Maybe you’ll get lucky tonight.” I winked at her. “You can go home with one of those sexy dwarves. Loosen you up a little bit. You spend too much time researching. Just enjoy the fancy champagne.”
“You should talk. When’s the last time you had a date?”
“You really can’t comment seeing as the closest you’ve come to intimacy lately is with the pig whose nose hairs you plucked for your potion,” I said, and that shut us both up.
We really had very sad love lives.
I stopped my vehicle in front of our apartment complex. Whoever we were picking up probably lived in the same building as us. They’d probably be in for a little surprise, finding two women dressed to the nines as their paranormal Uber drivers, but hey, maybe they’d leave a good tip.
I just about swallowed my tongue when I glanced up and saw the front door of our building open. Out walked the vampire from the other night. The man who’d haunted my dreams, my fantasies... my nightmares.
Then, like an icy bucket of cold water, I saw the woman trailing behind him. Tall, insanely gorgeous, her hair curled into an updo more intricately crafted than Milan’s D’uomo. Her body was lithe, perfect, and that tight white gown showed off every beautiful curve. I immediately shut down any thoughts of the vampire then and there.
Of course Dominic Kent had a girlfriend. Of course she was perfect.
“They’re not getting in here...?” Emmy gestured with her finger, because the idea of Dominic Kent and his supermodel girlfriend getting into a crappy old Honda was unfathomable.
Then a car pulled in just in front of us, a Lamborghini in a hue of red that matched the lipstick on the vampire’s girlfriend.
“Oh.” Emmy gave a hoarse laugh, connecting the dots between the car and the couple. “Yeah, that makes more sense.”
“Don’t upset my baby.” I patted the Honda’s dashboard. “She does good work, even if she looks a little shabby. Not everything is about looks.”
“You talking about the car or have we moved on to self-reflection?”
I glanced over at Emmy who was super-pleased with herself for that joke. But my laugh died on my lips because at that moment, Dominic Kent glanced my way, and we locked eyes.
I could feel that he recognized me. I could feel it in my very bones.
At that very moment, a distractingly large fist pounded on the rear window of my car.
“I told you not to leave the parking lot without handing over my money, Trixie!”
“So that’s...” Emmy winced as she glanced over at the huge man with a tattoo right on the front of his neck. She swallowed. “Chopstix?”
I was about to get out of the car and fork over Chopstix’s money, with a couple of extra bucks for good measure, when I realized that he hadn’t gotten a second fist pound on the window. I blinked, unable to believe my eyes.
Somehow, Dominic had yanked Chopstix—a nearly three-hundred-pound man with braids in his hair—over to the side of the building and was holding him above ground with one hand, making it look like Chopstix weighed nothing more than a cute little sachet of potpourri.
“Hey! Drop him,” I said, scurrying out of my car and rounding on Dom. “That’s my parking space landlord, you idiot.”
