Page 68 of The Donor’s Dilemma

Waking up that evening, she re-read the messages, reminding herself that it hadn’t been a dream. They were actually going to try. She was still reading, wrapped in her duvet and sleepy contentment when another message came through.

Good evening angel, sleep well?

On anyone else, it would make her queasy: the lovesick puppy act. She felt like a teenager, heart skipping as her first crush admitted that he liked her back.

Disgusting, she told herself, trying to look neutral while finishing the tables and starting a list of what cakes needed ordering. The rush was over, lunch done and the cafe winding down, just a couple of customers remained, nursing drinks as they worked or read. More would return after work; but Verity would be gone by then. She had a donation booked.

Not that there would be any donating. They were going to see Birth of a God with Elliot and Marcy on Saturday, and she expected Theo might want to wait the extra night.

Verity was more excited than she’d admit. She loved the theatre and when she asked if they would be okay, two vampires and two humans going together, he told her they would be in a box. A box at the theatre! It might seem trivial to a vampire Lord like Theo, but Verity couldn't wait to see the grand box.

It was also the perfect opportunity to talk to Marcy, ask her how she felt keeping her relationship secret, lying to friends and family. No prospect of marriage or children. Maybe it would be best to discuss that when Theo wasn’t around. He’d said they would talk once Abe was gone, no doubt he would want to talk about things like that, the milestones she would miss out on.

But Marcy was happy: not everyone wanted children, not every relationship required marriage. What would any of that matter if they could be happy together? Still, she needed to think, to work out what she truly wanted before getting carried away.

The bell rang as a curly-haired girl with oversized glasses and rosy cheeks walked in, smiling at Verity.

“Hi,” the girl said with a little wave. “Are you Cora?”

Cora’s head poked out from the kitchen where she’d been washing up. “Kim?” she asked.

The girl nodded. “Nice to meet you.”

Kimberly Price. Cora had booked the interview yesterday. She was only eighteen and this would be her first job, if Cora liked her. Verity checked the time on her phone, charging by the till. 4:50am. Kim was ten minutes early. A promising start.

“I’ll finish that,” Verity said, taking the dish cloth from her so Cora could talk with Kim.

“Cute shirt,” Cora told her, eyeing the girl’s frilly sleeves. “You’d get it shit up working here though.” The girl’s eyes went wide, only laughing when Cora did. Cora made a pot of tea before taking Kim over to a table to chat and Verity set to cleaning the kitchen.

The bell rang again and Verity headed out to greet the new customer, only to stop dead when she found Abraham waiting at the counter.

If he wanted to blend in, he was doing a poor job. Wearing a long coat and wide-brimmed hat, he looked as if plucked from a textbook of classic vampiric fashion. He was taller than she remembered, hair redder, eyes darker. No, not just darker, black. No iris, only inky darkness in eyes that crinkled as he smiled.

“Good morning, sweet Verity.”

From the corner of her eye, Verity noticed Cora’s sharp turn at the words.

Oh gods! He was at the cafe. Abe was at the fucking cafe with Cora right there watching, waiting for her reaction.

“Good morning,” she replied, words clipped, hand moving to her pocket before remembering her phone was by the till.

The moment her eyes flicked to where it charged Abe followed her gaze and tutted. She moved towards the till, trying to look casual, unhurried, but Abe was already there. Swiping her phone from the side and spinning it in his fingers while perusing the menu above Verity’s head.

She glanced at Cora, talking to Kim but with an eye on Verity. Flapping her hand with a forced smile, Verity gestured for her friend to go back to her conversation. “Can I get you something?” she asked, turning back to Abe.

“Could do with a coffee. I’ve got a long night ahead of me.” He grinned like a fiend. “What would you recommend?”

“I’d recommend Valeson’s,” she said dryly, quiet enough that the words wouldn’t reach Cora.

Throwing his coat and hat over a spare stool, he sat at the counter. “But Valeson’s don’t have such beautiful baristas.”

“We don’t do fancy crap.”

“Any coffee’s fine,” he said, spinning her phone against the countertop. “I’m not leaving without it. One drink and you can have this back. Unless you wanted to cause a scene?”

Of course she didn’t want to cause a scene, and he damn well knew it.

With one last icy stare she turned to the new coffee machine. A little voice in her head told her not to turn her back on him, but what choice did she have?