“Well?” he taunted, and stuck out his hand. “What do you say?”
For better or for worse, I shook his hand. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”
Twelve
Boaz dropped me off a half-dozen steps from the front doors of Haint Misbehavin’, like I could manage to get in trouble between him and the entryway. I wasn’t sure if I ought to be insulted six feet was as far as he trusted me or grateful I didn’t have to risk another late-night rendezvous with my stalkerpire.
“Shift ends in six hours.” I climbed off the bike. “I’ll catch a ride with Amelie to Mallow. Are you headed home?”
“I’ll be around,” he said vaguely. “Got your phone?”
“Yes, Mom.” I patted my cross-body purse. “I have ibuprofen in case of headaches and bandages in case of blisters too.”
“Good girl.” He let my sarcasm slide right off him and twisted his mouth up into a smile that promised nothing but trouble. “Have fun.”
Worried about what that smile promised, I hurried inside and bumped into Amelie.
“Was that Boaz?” She craned to see over my shoulder. “I thought I heard that stupid bike of his.”
“He gave me a ride.”
Her nose crinkled. “How literal are we talking?”
“For the millionth time, I’m not having sex with your brother.” Or any sex at all, despite the ridiculous injection of testosterone my life had received. “But since you spend so much time imagining us bumping uglies, if our uglies ever do bump, you’ll be the first person I call with all the juicy details.”
“You could have just told me to keep my nose out of your business.”
“We’re practically sisters.” We had been stuck like glue since I came to live with Maud, way before my boy-crazy phase made me forget about that time I caught Boaz eating his own boogers on a dare. Mostly. Okay, so not even hormones could erase some horrors. “That makes it my solemn duty to inflict as much emotional distress and mental anguish on you as humanly possible.”
“If that was your plan, then you succeeded beyond your wildest dreams.”
Voices drifted down the hall from the room where Neely held court, meaning we had a few minutes until our turns with hair and makeup. Amelie led the way into the women’s parlor, and we started pulling on our costumes. Her gown was buttery yellow and complemented her golden-blonde hair and warm, brown eyes.
The room bustled with the other female Haints prepping for the long night ahead, so we kept conversation light and didn’t talk about any of the things that mattered until Neely called for us.
While Neely worked on Amelie, I thumbed through a few of the magazines he kept scattered around his workspace. Several sported blank sticky notes over brunette models with builds similar to mine, confirming my suspicions that I dressed so poorly he had resorted to shopping for me in his head as a form of therapy.
A petite woman edging toward fifty popped her head in the room. Dressed in a black satin swing dress straight out of the fifties, with her blonde hair pinned in victory rolls, Cricket was less Southern belle and more rockabilly in mourning.
“Neely,” she mouthed around an unlit cigarette. “Enough with the primping. Amelie, get your butt in my office.” She snapped her fingers. “Move it.”
Being a good little employee, Amelie hopped straight to her feet and followed Cricket out.
Neely guided me into the chair then leaned around the corner to make sure the coast was clear.
“I didn’t want to say anything in front of Amelie, but I’ve been dying to ask.” He vibrated with excitement. “How did your date go with Volkov?”
“It was…” life-changing, terrifying, amazing, “…not bad. He’s a decent guy.”
Decent in the vampire sense of the word, which was not quite the same as the human one.
“That hardly sounds like a declaration of undying love.”
Undying. Good one. “I haven’t known him long enough for him to inspire more than the occasional hot flash.”
Honestly? I wasn’t sure how much of that was true attraction versus the lure, and I might not ever be.
“Chemistry is important.” He tapped my nose with the end of his brush. “It’s not as important as mutual respect, financial solvency or humor, but it’s up there. It’s been my experience the better you know a person, the more connected you feel to them, and the more attractive they become to you.”
Comforted by the tickle of soft bristles over the bridge of my nose, it struck me why these sessions appealed to me when I was ultimately too lazy to learn how to apply more than mascara and lip gloss. Neely’s medium might not be ink, but his brushes had been the only ones on my skin for the longest time.
“What about Boaz?” Neely shot me a look that dared me to deny we shared a spark. “The polite thing to do would have been to go with a man on each arm. They both put so much effort into impressing you. Seems a shame you had to choose. Why let one go to waste?”
“I’m not starting a harem.” Though a blond and a brunette wasn’t a bad place to start…
The grapevine would be buzzing after last night with rumors circulating about whose arm I arrived on and whose car I left in. None of that factored in Boaz’s swoon-worthy save either. I would have appeared quite the social butterfly, or worse, when nothing was further from the truth.
All I needed was for the pearl-clutchers and uptight suits with daughters of a marriageable age to think I was collecting eligible bachelors from all levels of Society. That would win me allies. Or, you know, a knife through my kidney.
“This is a judgment-free zone.” He started twisting my hair into a thick braid. “So I expect you not to judge me when I say you should get out there and see what life has to offer before you settle down with one guy for the rest of your life. You’re young. Have some fun. Break some rules.”
Most days it felt like I had broken enough rules to last a lifetime. “How much did life offer you before you settled down?”
“Enough,” he said with a sharp exhale.
I met his gaze in the mirror. “Is everything okay?”
“People just suck sometimes.”
Recalling Cruz’s hostility, I had to ask, “You’d tell me if you were having problems with someone at work, right?”
“You need this job more than I do.” He squeezed my shoulder then reached for the curling iron. “The last thing I’d do is let you step in this flaming-hot mess.”
Warmth flooded my chest that he would place my financial problems above his own equally serious ones, but that was just Neely. He had no idea this job was now a hobby for me, and selfish as it might be, I didn’t want him viewing me in a different light. Everyone else was already sizing me up for their own purposes. Until I put in my notice or Amelie blabbed, I was content to be my old ramen-slurping self where he was concerned.
But, as the saying goes, with great power comes great responsibility, and I wasn’t about to let this abuse go unpunished.
“Let me know if you change your mind.” I gave myself a once-over when he stepped back to admire his work, understanding more now than I had last night what Neely meant when he said this was my character look, not my me look. “I’m off to spook the pants off my victims.”
“Just make sure you go through their pockets before you donate them.” He gave me a saucy wink. “Bring your waterproof parasol. There are showers in the forecast.”
“Ugh.” The odds for more than a good misting must be low or else Cricket would have put the kibosh on tonight’s tours. Cancellations weren’t for our benefit, naturally, but for the preservation of the dresses, suits, hats and parasols, and to save on her dry-cleaning bill. “Good thing I’ll be leaving with Amelie. I hate riding Jolene in the rain.”
A shudder rippled through him. “I don’t know how you can stand to ride her at all.”
“Bikes are freedom.”