Page 50 of The Donor’s Dilemma

“What the fuck did you do, you crazy bitch?”

Verity caught her in a hug but could barely hold on as Cora jumped up and down. “I might need some context, babe.” There was no end of incriminating things she had done recently, and Verity wasn’t about to own up to the wrong one.

“Does the name Elliot Wysall ring a bell?” Cora asked, and Verity’s heart almost stopped. Why the fuck would Cora know about Elliot?

“Maaayybe… why? What’s happened?”

“Verity! How the hell would you meet a guy like that?”

Oh, gods. Context, she needed context. Had someone told her about SubRosa? Did she know about Theo?

“I met him through a friend. You know, donors and vampires and that.”

“Well,” Cora dragged Verity towards the counter, pushing her into a seat. “I got a call this evening, asking if I was friends with a certain Verity Harper. I said yes and they offered me a contract! They said you bigged me up to Mr Wysall and he wants to send trainees here for lunch!” Tears filled Cora’s eyes as she spoke. “Thirty meals a day, minimum!”

Verity didn’t know what to say, thirty customers might not sound like much, but the café would be full, something Verity hadn’t seen since they were kids.

“That’s incredible,” she said as Cora thrust the contract into her hands. A contract written by Charles Pinchbeck Legal Associates and signed by Edward Heap. Those sneaky bastards.

Cora started rattling on about suppliers and set menus and hiring staff.

“Don’t worry about staff. I’ll help out until you get settled,” Verity told her, earning another hug.

“I don’t know what you said, but you’ve saved me.”

“It was nothing.” It really was. One off hand comment, that’s all it took.

“I don’t even know how to thank you.”

“Please, don’t thank me,” she begged. “Although, I might need a hand contacting some local businesses.”

“Oh really? Tell me more.”

So, the two set about planning and just like that, not only had Elliot saved her friend’s cafe from ruin, he’d also saved Verity from having to explain her date to Cora.

Chapter Fifteen

Two light knocks on the door and Theo stood.

Don’t growl, he reminded himself, heading down the hallway. No unnecessary touching, he demanded reaching for the door handle. And for the love of Phoenar, keep it in your pants!

“Good morning, Verity,” he smiled, opening the door and welcoming her into his home.

“Morning,” she chirped, shuffling over the threshold and eyeing her surroundings. “Shoes?” she asked, already kicking her boots off.

“Whatever makes you comfortable,” he said, taking her coat and gesturing down the hallway towards the lounge.

Decorating wasn’t Theo’s strong suit, but he’d lived long enough to build up a collection of paintings and mementos. Verity examined each as she made her way down the wood panelled corridor, past the two bedrooms and his home office and into the living space.

“How long have you lived here?” she asked.

“About forty years.”

She nodded, brows high. Sometimes he wondered if she truly realised how old he was. Forty years was nothing to him, but his little corner of Horsham House - a stately home long since divided into apartments - had been his home for longer than she’d been alive.

The couch sighed as she claimed his usual spot and pulled papers from her backpack.

“You brought homework?” he asked. They had agreed that she’d stay for a couple of hours. The lengthy stay might be overcompensating but Theo wasn’t taking any chances. A fake relationship couldn’t be trips to the club and nothing else; this needed to be believable if he was to send a message that even a Blessed would listen too.