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She piled several books into my arms, from recent softcover editions to old linen-covered tomes. I wobbled under the weight of them, so she helped me toddle toward the coffee bar. I took a seat at the bar, where my cappuccino was waiting for me, and tried to determine which books I needed.
“So, you’re taking your gardenin’ to a whole ’nother level?” Jolene asked as I immediately eliminated a leather-bound hardback called Man-Eating Plants of the Amazon.
The reading group had adjourned, promising to read something a little more romantic next month. I used their noisy, happy departure for an excuse not to reveal too much about Cal. But as soon as the shop door closed, Jolene was back to looking at me expectantly.
“Just a little research for a friend,” I said, picking up Botanical Aromatherapy and Psychic Abilities. “He doesn’t know anything about botany, and he’s trying to find some information about which plants have effects on vampires. Like garlic, for instance. I’ve noticed that it does not, in fact, burn you alive, contrary to what The Lost Boys would have us believe.”
“Well, that’s what you get for getting your vampire survival tips from Corey Feldman,” Jane said archly.
“It’s more of a stinky-breath issue,” Andrea added.
“How’d you get close enough to Corey Feldman that you know what his breath smells … oh, never mind.” Jolene chuckled.
Jolene was an odd duck. She was beautiful in a fierce, exotic way—auburn hair, flashing green eyes, sharp white smile. Jane told me that she was once bitter about being replaced as Zeb’s “best girl” by someone with a clear genetic advantage … but then she consoled herself with the fact that Jolene’s braying backwoods twang could peel paint. It was a small consolation, especially when she was such a genuinely nice girl.
I opened a copy of Bizarre Botanicals and Their Uses. I muttered, “Devil’s claw. Bloodwort. Marrow root. Why do they insist on giving these plants such scary names?”
Jane shrieked. “Augh!”
“What?”
She shuddered and slammed the book shut. “I just got a look at eyeball plants.”
“Jane has a thing about eyeballs,” Jolene said, rolling hers.
This started a good-natured argument about the group’s various obscure phobias, including Jane’s fear of clowns and puppets. After a few minutes, I narrowed my choices to Imperfections of a Perfect Creature and The Natural Versus the Supernatural, a guide to the plants, metals, and minerals that had physical effects on supernatural creatures. And A Guide to Ancient Poisons.
“You would tell me if you were planning to use something I sold you to kill someone, right?” Jane said, clearing her throat. I waggled my hand as if I might consider it. She threw a novelty voodoo doll at me. At least, I thought it was a novelty doll.
“I’ll take them,” I told her. I pulled out my purse, but Jane snapped it shut and pushed it back into my hands. “Oh, your money is no good here.”
“Jane, one of these books looks like an antique,” I said, holding up Ancient Poisons, with its weathered green cloth cover.
“You helped me survive wedding-dress shopping with my relatives,” Jane countered. “And you managed to distract my mother during my reception so she was unable to force-feed me cake. You don’t pay here, ever.”
“Thanks, Jane,” I said, hugging her.
“So, I was thinking,” Jane said, squeezing me gently, “that we need to go out for drinks sometime. You know, a Girls’ Night Out. I feel like we don’t get to spend enough time with you. With Gigi leaving for school, you need to get used to ‘adult time’ again.”
I narrowed my eyes at her. Sometimes it was a pain in the butt hanging out with a mind reader. She arched an eyebrow at me.
I thought, Heard that, too, huh?
She nodded.
Know-it-all psychic.
She grinned cheekily.
Meanwhile, the spoken conversation around us continued, our companions unaware of Jane’s mental maneuverings.
“I don’t like your Girls’ Nights.” Andrea pouted. “One of us always ends up questioned by the authorities.”
“Well, who told you to dance on that cop car?” Jolene countered.
“You’re the one who dared me to do it!” Andrea snapped.
“It was in motion!”
