Page 27 of Urn For Me


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Dorothy’s words broke the sated silence. “We need to be to work soon, Ro,” she murmured, her voice soft and filled with contentment.

I pressed a kiss to her cheek and gathered her in my arms. “I know the guy who owns the funeral home. He’ll be fine if we’re a couple of hours late,” I reassured her, my voice filled with confidence.

“In that case,” Dorothy sighed, “wake me up in a couple of hours.”

Oh, I planned to wake her up. And she was going to enjoy it.

Chapter Eighteen

Dorothy

“You haven’t had any bodies? This whole time, nothing?” Imogen’s voice echoed through the phone, laced with disbelief.

I leaned back in my chair, cradling the phone between my ear and shoulder as I prepared to spill the beans. “Well, I guess I can tell you now since they’re done, and you won’t insist on coming back,” I replied, a hint of amusement coloring my tone.

“Spill,” Imogen demanded eagerly, her interest piqued.

“Well, uh, Rocco might have said the Q word, and then we got three bodies in twenty-four hours,” I confessed, a wry smile tugging at the corners of my lips. “The last funeral was yesterday.”

“No,” Imogen gasped in mock horror. “Has the man got no brain cells?” she exclaimed.

I chuckled, shaking my head at the memory. “Well, no. He’s just not superstitious. At least, he wasn’t before. Now I’m pretty sure he will never ever say the Q word ever again.”

Imogen laughed, the sound warm and familiar. “Yeah, I think it only took one time for us to realize the Q word is not something to mess with.”

“Yeah, that mistake will not be made again,” I agreed wholeheartedly, relieved that the influx of bodies had been a temporary hiccup rather than a permanent curse.

“But things have been fine since then?” Imogen inquired, her tone shifting to one of concern.

I grabbed a pen off my desk, fidgeting with it nervously as I contemplated how to answer.

“Dorothy,” Imogen called, sensing my hesitation. “Please tell me you don’t have the basement full, and you’re acting like you’re fine.”

“No, no,” I reassured her quickly. “Everything is fine on the funeral side,” I added.

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line before Imogen spoke again, her voice tinged with curiosity. “What about the non-funeral side?” she asked, her words loaded with unspoken questions.

“Uh, well, you know,” I began tentatively, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment despite the fact that she couldn’t see me. “Rocco and I have been getting to know each other,” I admitted, feeling a strange mix of nervousness and excitement fluttering in my chest. “You’ll be happy to know I don’t hate him at all anymore.”

“That’s good,” Imogen replied, her tone neutral but supportive.

“And I also had sex with him last night,” I blurted out before I could stop myself, the words tumbled out in a rush. “But by the time I got to work, I lost count of how many times we did it through the night,” I added hastily, cringing inwardly as I waited for her response.

Imogen didn’t say anything, and my heart seemed to pound in my chest with increasing intensity, waiting for her reply. Then, to my surprise, Imogen burst into laughter, the sound rich and full of amusement.

“Well, well, well, Dorothy,” she teased playfully. “I guess that’s one way to improve your relationship with the boss.”

“Stop it,” I hissed. “I didn’t sleep with him because he’s my boss, hell that was the reason why I wasn’t going to sleep with him.”

“But you still did,” she teased. “Must not have bothered you that much.”

It did kind of still bother me that Rocco was my boss. Obviously, not enough to stop me from sleeping with him and then planning on boinking his brains out during lunch in his office. I crossed my legs, my body reacting to thinking about fucking Rocco. Oh, boy.

Man, that man sure had some power over me, and he wasn’t even in the room with me.

“I know you think I made a mistake, but...” I started, trailing off as I struggled to find the right words.

“I never said you made a mistake. I just think it’s funny when I left for Sacramento, you were still on the fence about Rocco, and now you two are probably bumping uglies all over the funeral home,” Imogen’s voice crackled through the phone line, filled with amusement.

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