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Andrea cried, “I borrowed Jane’s bad-decision dress. I had no control over my actions!”
“We’re burnin’ that dress,” Jolene muttered.
Jane smiled serenely, as if there wasn’t a live production of Jerry Springer occurring behind her. “So, this friend that you’re doing the research for, how long have you been … seeing each other?” she asked delicately.
I gasped, hoping that Jane hadn’t seen much of Cal inside my head. I doubted that she’d take the information to the Council, but I didn’t want her to get into trouble with Ophelia on my account. The problem with spending time with Jane was that the minute you realized that she could be listening to your thoughts, you automatically started thinking of all of the things that you shouldn’t think about in her presence. When I was embarrassed over a minor account-balance hiccup with the bank three months before, I learned to recite lists of plant identifications in my head when she was around. It took her a week’s contemplation to ask why I was mentally cursing at her in Latin.
“We’re not dating so much as spending a lot of time together.”
Andrea’s lips quirked at my disaffected tone. “And you don’t seem very happy about it.”
I groaned and dropped my head to the counter. Jane chuckled and patted my back. When I looked up, she’d pulled out the little pink crystal-encrusted flask I kept for bridal emergencies and was waving it in front of my face. She flipped the cap open, and I could smell the alcohol fumes rolling over the lip.
I scowled at the little yellow crystal bee winking at me from the corner of the flask. “I don’t know if vodka is going to improve this situation.”
“Would it make you feel better if I mixed it into your coffee?” Jane asked sweetly.
Behind her, I heard Andrea whip out a little pocket digital recorder and murmur quietly, “Consider adding alcoholic coffee specials to the menu. Investigate licensing issues with the state.”
“OK, so if you won’t drink, you might as well spill,” Jolene said. “Jane’s gonna drag it out of you anyway. She has … evil ways.” She shuddered.
“Fine. I will admit it. I am spending time with a vampire. And sometimes he’s so funny and sweet … and, guh, sexy as hell. But then there are times when he just makes me so angry I could stake him out for the sun to handle. He makes all of these decisions for me, like I’m not even there!” I exclaimed in a tone that had Andrea and Jane sharing a look of amused recognition. “It’s like he thinks he can protect me from the whole world just by—what are you smiling at?”
Jane and Andrea snickered simultaneously. “OK, the mind-meld thing is becoming a little unnerving,” I complained.
Andrea gave me a smile that I hadn’t seen since my mother gave me the “birds and the bees and your changing body” lecture. “Welcome to life with a male vampire.”
“The most dangerous of all boyfriend species,” Jane intoned solemnly. “You’re being Nightengaled.”
“Most dangerous.” Jolene huffed and said something along the lines of, “Clearly, you never hung out with my pack.” Which didn’t make any sense.
“He’s not my boyfriend. He’s just a client.”
Jolene pouted prettily. “But you are havin’ sex with him, right?”
I knocked a clay, acorn-shaped plaque from the bar, only to have Andrea pluck it from midair before it hit the ground. Vampire reflexes would be so handy to have.
I stammered, “Wh-why would you say that?”
Jane tsked. “You have that ‘I’m having the best sex of my life, but it leaves me emotionally conflicted’ look. We’re familiar with that look.”
“I lived that look for the first six weeks after Dick moved in,” Andrea said in a tone so candid that I expected to see a blush on her pale, undead cheeks.
“Until about two months before the wedding,” Jane said, raising her hand.
“Does it get any better?” I asked.
Jane grinned. “The sex?”
“No!” I exclaimed as Andrea cackled. “The emotional conflict. Pervert.”
Jane shrugged, pouring another cup of coffee for Jolene. “That depends on you and your friend. Honestly, it’s difficult having a relationship with a man who thinks he needs to leave you out of the loop to protect you and is generally unfazed by threats of murder. Trust me, I nearly lost Gabriel because of his pigheaded protectiveness. And there’s not much you can do, except refuse to put up with it. Fight back. If your friend is anything like Gabriel or Dick, he wants you to challenge him.”
“To a duel?” I asked.
“No, in the bedroom—and everywhere else. Stand up to him. Assert yourself. You’ll feel better about the relationship, and he’ll respect you more,” Andrea insisted. “One of the reasons Dick liked me was that I was the first girl to turn him down for anything since he was human.”
“And a good fight always leads to …” Jane chewed her lip, as if she wasn’t sure I was ready to hear that.
