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“I think you forget sometimes, I am fully capable of hurting you—” We turned to the front door as a woman in a smart peach raincoat came into the shop, clutching her purse close to her side with one arm and carrying an enormous beribboned basket with the other. Courtney Barrows, Nice Courtney, eyed her surroundings suspiciously, apparently afraid to touch anything. “Courtney?” I said.
“Jane!” She sighed, relieved to see me.
“And it isn’t even my birthday!” Andrea was clearly thrilled that one of the chamber members had showed up for my brainwashing initiation so soon. She whispered, “Which one?”
I cleared my throat. “Courtney Barrows, this is my associate, Andrea Byrne. Andrea, Courtney Barrows. Courtney owns the Unique Boutique, the sterling-silver shop over on Dogwood.”
“Nice to meet you,” they chorused. I half expected Courtney to curtsy.
“It’s not that I’m not happy to see you again, but what are you doing here?” I asked.
Courtney let out a breathy laugh. “I know! I don’t normally come into this part of town, especially at night. But your store hours are just so odd, I wanted to make sure I caught you,” she said, hauling the giant gift basket onto the counter. “The chamber sent you this, and I volunteered to bring it by. It’s a welcome muffin basket. There’s an orientation folder, a directory, the memory book, and a suggested list of places where you should go begging for game prizes.”
Well, that capped it. If I’d learned anything from Missy the psycho real-estate agent, it was never to trust people bearing gift baskets.
“Memory book?” Andrea asked.
“It’s a little scrapbook for our special events, fund-raisers, that sort of thing.”
“Like a yearbook!” Andrea exclaimed cheerily, then scowled when I pushed the basket at her with more force than was probably necessary. She stifled a giggle and took it to my office. “I’m taking these muffins, by the way! They’re of no use to you!”
Courtney shot me a questioning look. I smiled. “I’m on a no-carb, no-sugar, no-gluten diet. But Andrea will love them. It was really nice of you to bring it by. You didn’t have to come all the way down here.”
“Well, I just liked talking to you so much at the meeting, I thought I’d come by for a visit. I just— I joined the chamber to make some friends. And the ladies at the chamber … I didn’t know what I was getting into when I joined. They’re sort of …”
“Scary?” I suggested.
“And blond?” Andrea shouted from the back of the shop.
I shot Courtney an apologetic smile, but she didn’t seem offended in the least that I’d been talking about the chamber members behind their backs. “Yes. But you were so nice. You know, you’re the first person I’ve met at one of those meetings that hasn’t made fun of the fact that my husband runs a construction company. As if my money is dirty or something, just because my husband’s not a doctor or a lawyer.”
“I was raised by a teacher and a meddlesome homemaker. I mock no one,” I told her, then amended, “unless they deserve it.”
“You’ve lived in the Hollow your whole life. You don’t know what it’s like to try to meet people here when you don’t know anybody.”
“I think you’ve been hanging around the wrong Half-Moon Hollow residents. See, I would imagine your husband probably outearns ninety-five percent of the people in this town. Frankly, I admire anyone who can operate heavy machinery without hurting innocent bystanders.”
She giggled. “See? I told you! You’re a hoot.”
“That you did. Pull up a seat.”
Courtney gave an exaggerated look around, her face open and pleasant as she climbed up onto the bar stool. “Your shop is, um, really interesting.”
“Thanks. Coffee?” I asked. I pushed a bunch of buttons and hoped a cappuccino would come out. Andrea came running at the rumble of the cappuccino machine, like a mama bear protecting her young. She shooed me away and finished making Courtney’s drink herself.
Courtney seemed almost shy as she handed me a little pink-wrapped box. “And I had a little gift made up for you.”
“Oh, thanks,” I said, opening the box. Inside was a little keychain attached to a silver disc inscribed with my initials. “That was really nice.”
Vampires are allergic to silver. Touching it feels like a combination of burning and being forced to watch Glitter over and over again. Your eyes burn, there’s an unpleasant squelching sound, and you’re left with dirty gray streaks that are very hard to wash off. I knew what I was in for when I politely held the little circle in my palm.
Andrea’s eyes widened as my hand began to sizzle like bacon. I mouthed, “I know!” Andrea started asking Courtney incredibly complicated questions about how she wanted her coffee. As soon as Courtney’s back was turned, I put the keychain on the counter and silently yowled, shaking my hand back and forth as the dirty gray stain faded from my skin.
“You OK, Jane?” Courtney asked, smiling sweetly.
“Fine.” I chuckled. Andrea rolled her eyes in my direction. “I’m just fine. I just have some allergies, a little eczema acting up … Wait, no, this is stupid. Courtney, you should probably know that I’m a vampire, have been for about a year now. If that’s going to get me banned from the Half-Moon Hollow Chamber of Commerce, so be it. I just don’t have the time or energy to try to fool you into thinking I’m normal.”
“Oh, I knew that,” Courtney said, patting my arm and turning over my burned hand to examine my palm. “The keychain was just a test to make sure. But it was obvious the other night what you are. You didn’t touch any of the food. Your teeth are a little sharper than they should be. You’re so pale and, well, sort of glowy. Your skin drove Head Courtney crazy, by the way. She kept trying to figure out what you use on it. I didn’t say a word.”
