Page 8 of The Donor’s Dilemma

Chapter Three

“He said you can call him Theo?” Cora squealed, dancing on the spot like a lovesick schoolgirl.

“He’s just being nice,” Verity insisted, wiping down the tables. She was definitely doing more work than Cora.

“Babe! Don’t you hold out on me! I’ve got eyes!”

“Cora!” Verity demanded. “People lose their jobs for being accused of having relations with vampires. Can you imagine the trouble I’d be in if someone heard you?”

“Yeah, but are we talking relations?” Cora wrapped her arms around herself, swaying dreamily. “Or are we talking relations?” She started thrusting towards Verity who fended her off with a tea towel.

“Seriously, woman, calm down. I’ve met the guy once. It’s just a job.”

They went back to cleaning the tables, Cora giggling. She had asked for a blow-by-blow, or bite-by-bite, rendition of every second and Verity had complied. Of course, she left out the part where she got a little hot under the collar, but Cora seemed to add that bit in herself anyway.

“I don’t believe you,” Cora snickered, before raising a finger to point at Verity. “If you’re holding out on me…”

Verity slapped her hand down as an irrational wave of fear rolled over her. “Stop it,” she demanded, but Cora only pointed with the other hand.

“If you…” Cora tried again, laughing as Verity batted her hands away, over and over, like a pair of squabbling children.

“Cora!” Verity grabbed her wrists, yanking them down. “Don’t point at me!”

“What? I’m just messing about…”

“Well, it’s not funny.” Verity glanced toward the windows, checking the street outside. “You’re gonna be the death of me. You know that?”

“Oh, come on,” Cora said, but Verity wasn’t laughing.

Every child knew not to point. Verity remembered asking her mum when a boy had been suspended from school for it. She’d said it “wasn’t the pointing but the intent” and it was best to just not do it. It reminded vampires of witches, and if there was one thing they were taught to fear, it was a witch.

Cora sobered slightly, dropping her hands. “Alright, alright. Gods, I didn’t realise you’d got so superstitious in your old age.”

“Just promise me you won’t do it again. You’ll never have a customer if anyone sees.”

“I’ll be good.” Cora grinned, big hazel eyes sparkling. “As long as you give me all the juice on Mr Lord Mayor. And I’ll know if you’re lying. My cousin’s a cleaner there; he gets all the gossip.”

“Phoenar save anyone who stands between you and gossip,” Verity said.

“Maybe I’ll see if Toby wants to play vampire and donor tonight,” Cora mused, snapping her teeth.

“How’s his new job going?” Verity asked, and Cora immediately clammed up.

“Don’t think he’s getting on with his colleagues,” Cora said with a sigh.

Verity resisted rolling her eyes. The guy was a flake, and Verity was sick of him scrounging off her friend. Especially with the cafe struggling.

Cleaning the tables was routine rather than necessity. They were empty and had been almost all night. A few customers visited earlier in the evening, but not enough.

As much as Verity hated to admit it, she could understand why. Since leaving for Stonehaven a decade ago, cafes and coffee shops had cropped up all over town, one after another, major chains with chic interiors and trendy menus. Cora’s wobbly tables and traditional food couldn’t compete.

If that wasn’t bad enough, the chains were cheaper too, much to Cora’s frustration. Her costs had rocketed in recent months, and without the luxury of having customers to pass those costs on to, the cafe looked a little tired, to put it politely. She wanted to decorate and modernise, to brighten up the colour scheme of brown on brown and replace the Corner Cafe’s two walls of windows that leaked when the rain slashed at just the right angle, but paying the gas and electric bill seemed more important.

The cafe had been her father’s, with Cora working there straight out of school and taking over a few years ago when her dad became ill. For all of her joking, Verity knew her friend, knew that the struggle to pay the rising bills weighed as heavy as her need to make her dad proud.

“Toby could always join the exchange,” Verity said, and Cora snorted.

“He wouldn’t have the balls for that.”