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No one had ever looked at me like that. Which I supposed was why I wasn’t married.
Bess insisted there was time yet for that, but twenty-seven was pushing the bounds, especially for Bright creatures.
Forcing a smile, I ignored the little voice cackling in the back of my mind, the one that said I was a joke and should give up this counseling nonsense. One day soon someone was going to notice I couldn’t keep a steady relationship of my own and Maker help me if I could blame what few clients I had for judging me on it.
The front foyer was an open affair I prided myself in. The hardwood floor gleamed and the staircase leading to the upper levels matched. We had a crystal chandelier that caught morning light from the big windows flanking the door and I often drank coffee sitting on the bottom step, watching rainbows float across the walls. But it was nearing midday as I walked the Belmontes to the front door, and there was a man lounging on the bottom stair that I had never seen before.
He was the sort of handsome that made a person pause when they saw him, as though the mind couldn’t quite grasp what it was seeing and needed to find a flaw. To be fair, many Bright creatures had this beauty in them, but there was still something striking about this gentleman. His hair was on the long side, pushed back and streaked blonde, and he was dressed in a worn aviator jacket and trousers. Well-proportioned features, strong jaw, and the smirk he gave me as I paused mid-step was nothing short of wicked.
This was a man who knew the effect he had on women and every instinct I had screamed to kick him out the door. But that would be rude given that I hadn’t even gotten his name yet, so I focused on Daphne and opened the front door. The vampire did not seem to notice my unnamed guest, or if she did, she gave no outward signs of seeing him. Olav, on the other hand, sent the man a nod.
“We will schedule a follow up with Bess in the next day or two,” Daphne said.
“I look forward to it.”
And then they were gone, and I was closing my door, a little baffled at my own success. If I could call that a success. I suppose when a couple comes in and isn’t speaking to each other, but leaves with somewhat amenable attitudes, that I’ve done something right. Not that I could quite understand what it was.
Maybe I really was a joke.
Uncle Martin’s pawn shop was looking more and more appealing. I could refurbish antiques. It would be dusty, but less drama.
I turned to face the sculpted god sitting on my bottom stair and caught sight of that wicked smirk again. His eyes were a chilly blue and there was scruff across his jaw that lent him that careless air so many women found appealing these days. Proof that he knew what a razor was, even if he chose not to utilize it today, and blast my knees if they weren’t wobbly.
If my mother were still alive, this was exactly the sort of man she would warn me away from.
“We don’t take walk-ins,” I said. “Come back when you’ve made an appointment.”
His eyebrow hiked in surprise. With a polite smile, I headed back to the study, intent on thirty minutes of quiet before my next clients arrived. Mr. and Mrs. Brookes were both Fae, so they didn’t have the culture divide like the Belmontes, but Fae were not known as monogamous creatures and there was often drama between the two.
But of course, my unnamed visitor wasn’t going to take no for an answer.
“Are you always this friendly?” he asked in a British accent wildly out of place for this part of Boston.
“Only when my space is invaded.”
His heavy boots scuffed across the floor as he followed me into the study. “It’s not like I waltzed in unannounced. A woman answered the door and told me to wait by the stair.”
Bess. But why hadn’t she turned the man away? She knew my schedule was full.
Frustrated by my dwindling private time, I stalked to my desk and debated all the ways I could kick him out of the house. “She was mistaken in having you wait. My next appointment will be here soon.”
“How soon?”
I had been about to sit behind the desk but paused at this. “You’re persistent,” I said and glanced at the truth rune etched into the ceiling. You couldn’t see it outside the aether, but I felt its presence when I thought to lie. “They’ll be here sooner than I’d like. Now if you could please escort yourself out…”
He continued into the room and settled on the couch, lounging there with as much ease as he’d shown resting on the stair outside. “I’m afraid I can’t. At least not yet.”
Straightening, I crossed my arms and tried to read him again, but the only emotion I could glean was mild humor. The way he looked at me earlier suggested he wasn’t in a committed relationship, which could be problematic if he was here on behest of his wife.
Thinking of him married was depressing and with a jolt I realized it had been too long since I’d been on a date. Or had a relationship outside Nana Bess and her chocolate fudge cookies.
This was equally depressing, and it took me a moment to realize the man was speaking again.
“I understand that you have a backlog of clients, but I have an opportunity for you, if you’re willing to take it.”
Backlog of clients? I was lucky to keep my calendar full at all. The clients the CEB sent me were non-negotiable, a requirement for me to keep my license, and they did not pay well.
Unable to contain it any longer, I shook my head. “I’m sorry, who are you?”
