Chapter 2 Dating and Other Disasters
DATING AND OTHER DISASTERS
Beatrice was part of the Lupton pack, the family who had been not-so-subtly positioning their daughters as potential matches for Samuel before I’d stumbled into the picture and stolen the Hawthorne alpha from right under their noses.
I’d gotten to know Beatrice and her sister Lauren after the Holt ball and the ill-famed crystal skull incident.
Contrary to expectations, I now counted them among my supernatural friends.
Victoria carefully set down her newspaper. “I see.”
I bit my lip. I wasn’t sure if her tone meant she was processing things calmly or if we were about to see a replay of some terrible Greek tragedy, except with more screaming. The way Bo shuffled closer told me he was thinking the same thing.
“It’s just coffee,” Hugh said hastily in the fraught silence. “We ran into each other at that new café downtown. She’s actually really nice when she’s not, you know, being paraded around as alpha-bride material.” He glanced guiltily at Samuel.
Samuel’s expression was unreadable. “And you didn’t think to mention this earlier?”
“I’m mentioning it now.” Hugh darted toward the sideboard and grabbed another piece of toast. “I’m late. We’ll talk later!”
He fled before anyone could respond.
The silence stretched on. I broke it by munching on some bacon and earned myself another tart look from my future mother-in-law, as well as a hungry stare from Bo.
“Well,” Victoria said finally. “This is an unexpected development.” The Hawthorne matriarch uttered the last word in a tone rapidly approaching doom.
Greek tragedy it was then.
From the way Beatrice and Hugh had been making discreet cow eyes at each other at our last meeting, I wasn’t surprised at all.
“Beatrice isn’t bad,” I said while unsubtly feeding my dog some bacon under the table. “She’s really nice once you get to know her.”
Bo inhaled the treat noisily and drew a contemptuous sneer from Pearl.
I debated voicing the disturbing similarities between the cat and her owner but vetoed my own impulse. Who owned whom was still a subject of debate.
Victoria frowned. “That girl is permanently glued to her phone and has an abnormal fondness for taffeta.”
“And I grow hairy every full moon,” I pointed out. “Besides, I can see why they’d get along. They share common interests, what with Hugh being the pack’s digital strategist and all.”
Even I had come to appreciate Hugh’s social media skills after the whole Vampire Purity scandal involving Ludvik Bludworth.
He’d fielded enquiries from the supernatural press camped outside Hawthorne & Associates like a pro and hadn’t even broken a sweat when he’d been ambushed in an elevator by a bevy of news hungry vampires who’d managed to get past Charlene and Fred.
Victoria drummed her fingers on the table in a way that I was certain violated some kind of etiquette but was definitely not going to comment on.
“The Luptons might view this as another opportunity.” Her frown deepened. “They’ve been looking for ways to strengthen ties with our pack since the mate bond situation didn’t go their way.”
I shifted uncomfortably. The mate bond situation being, of course, me.
Samuel sighed. “I doubt that’s at the top of Danielle Lupton’s mind right now, what with the Holts still deciding whether to accept Lauren into their pack as Marcus’s mate. Besides, Hugh’s an adult. He can date whoever he wants.”
He was taking this far better than I’d expected.
Victoria frowned. “Of course he can.” She picked up her newspaper again. “I just hope he knows what he’s getting himself into.”
“Her taffeta dress by the sounds of it,” Bo said spiritedly under the table.
Samuel swallowed a snort before assuming an innocent air in the face of Victoria’s loaded stare.
Pearl sniffed. “Ten bucks says he does something embarrassing within the hour.”
“I’m not taking that bet,” Bo huffed. “That’s just giving away money.”
For once, we all agreed on something.
Nora began clearing plates with ghoulish deftness.
“More coffee, Mrs. Hawthorne?” Bernard asked politely.
“Yes, thank you, Bernard.” Victoria accepted the refill gratefully.
“And perhaps something stronger for later?” the butler suggested with a raised eyebrow.
“You read my mind,” Victoria muttered.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. I fished it out under Victoria’s narrow-eyed gaze, which silently warned that this could be etiquette violation number fifteen.
It was a text from Ellie.
Don’t forget. We have a building meeting tonight. 7p.m. sharp. Mrs. Chen’s apartment. You’re still technically a resident until you finish moving your stuff out, so attendance is MANDATORY. Virgil will be there.
I swallowed a groan.
I’d completely forgotten about our building’s supernatural residents’ association.
Not that Ellie and I had even known one existed until a couple of weeks ago.
With everything going on at the mansion, my old apartment had been the last thing on my mind.
I still had boxes there—books, winter clothes, that one lava lamp Ellie kept threatening to throw away and that Bo was fervently praying would make the trip to the Hawthorne mansion.
“Everything alright?” Samuel asked, catching my expression.
“Yeah. Just Ellie reminding me about the residents’ association meeting tonight.” I sighed and pocketed my phone.
Victoria raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t realize your building had that many supernatural residents.”
“Neither did I.”
“Would you like company?” Samuel offered.
Victoria and I stared at him like he’d suggested we skip the next full moon shift.
“What?” he said, puzzled.
“The locals might find the Hawthorne alpha attending their meeting a tad… overwhelming, Samuel,” Victoria pointed out kindly.
“Yeah, like a wolf offering to shear lambs,” Bo contributed.
“Ditto,” I muttered.
Samuel rolled his eyes.
Things at Hawthorne & Associates were already in full swing when Bo and I arrived there an hour later. Samuel had business at the Chamber of Commerce and parted ways with us in the parking lot, but not before he pulled me in for a kiss that nearly melted my panties and had Bo curling a lip.
I swear that alpha read my mind about the possible sex ban tonight.
Charlene was dealing with a difficult client on the phone when we walked into the building. Her hair had unraveled around her head and the glassware in the lobby was vibrating at a dangerous frequency.
I caught a snatch of her conversation.
“No, Count De Vile, you cannot have Dave’s private number. He’s on vacation.” She paused. “In the Bahamas,” she grated out. “Not that that’s any of your concern.”
I greeted the building’s security guard. “Hey, Fred. Is the Count being a pain again?”
“Yup,” the half-demon said glumly. “I’m one Defcon away from reaching for the headphones.” He eyed Bo. “Why does the pooch look like he’s just sniffed some questionable garbage?”
“Because it’s not even nine a.m. yet and I just witnessed an act of abject debauchery in the parking lot,” Bo explained indignantly.
We both squinted at my dog.
“Is it me or is his vocabulary expanding?” Fred said suspiciously.
I could see Pearl all over this.
“Also, you and Samuel need to stop making out in the parking lot,” Fred advised. “Nigel saw you guys on the security camera once and almost had a moment.”
I shriveled up a little inside.
At the other end of the desk, Charlene started citing the employee handbook, her eyes taking on a worrying glow.
“I’d get those headphones out if I were you,” I warned, beating a hasty retreat to the elevator.
Fred extracted his noise-cancelling headphones from a desk drawer with a glum expression and absent-mindedly gave Bo a treat. My dog accepted it enthusiastically, the fact that he’d already consumed his weight in bacon that morning long forgotten.
“You’re going to get fat,” I told him.
“I have werewolf metabolism,” Bo said smugly. “I burn calories just by existing.”
“You’re not a werewolf.”
“I’m werewolf adjacent. It’s close enough.”
Some days, my dog’s logic could not be argued with.
The elevator doors opened on the fifth floor to reveal Gavin sprinting past with his horns out and smoke trailing from his nostrils.
“Don’t go in the break room!” he shouted over his shoulder.
Bo and I watched him disappear around a corner.
“Should we ask?” Bo said hesitantly.
“Probably not.”
We made our way to my desk while carefully avoiding the break room. The smell of burnt coffee and something that might have been singed fur wafted from that direction. I decided I really didn’t want to know.
Didi was already at her station. She was frowning at a stack of papers that looked like they’d personally offended her and glanced up as I approached.
“You’re late.”
I looked at my watch. “I’m five minutes early.”
“For anyone else, that would be late.” She returned to her papers. “We have a new client complaint. Apparently, someone sold a brownie a ‘growth potion’ that turned out to be expired fertilizer.”
“That sounds like a problem for Risk Assessment,” I said promptly.
“It is. Except Gavin set the complaint form on fire.”
That explained the sprinting.
“Accidentally?” I asked.
Didi’s sour expression suggested my question was terribly naive. “He claims the form ‘startled’ him.”
Bo settled under my desk. I pulled up my files and tried to focus on the accounts I was supposed to be auditing, the Husky’s squeaky toy making the odd distressing noise near my feet. Janet had reluctantly allowed him to bring it into the office on the condition that he use it sparingly.
I could feel Didi counting the squeaks from where I sat and nudged Bo into silence. My mind drifted to tonight’s residents’ association meeting.
Besides Mrs. Chen, who I’d only recently discovered was a witch, I hadn’t been aware of other supernatural creatures in the building. I vaguely remembered Samuel mentioning he’d caught some strange scents coming from the place once.
A commotion near Nigel’s closet distracted me. The door was cracked open and a faint purple glow emanated from within. Mindy hovered nearby, her translucent form flickering with what looked like concern.
I debated ignoring the situation but curiosity got the better of me. “Is everything okay over there?”
Mindy drifted toward me, the knife protruding from her neck bobbing slightly. “Nigel’s nervous.”
A nervous boogeyman was decidedly not on the list of things any of us wanted to deal with today.
“About what?” I said, more out of necessity than sympathy.
“He won’t say.” She glanced back at the closet. “But he’s been reorganizing his files for an hour. That’s usually a sign.”
Barney swept past in a cloud of aristocratic gloom before I could respond. The vampire was muttering something about “the youth of today” and “no respect for vintage tools.”
“Someone touched his typewriter,” Didi explained without looking up.
I made a face. “Who would be stupid enough to do that?”
“Probably Hugh,” Bo offered cheerfully under my desk.
“He’s right. Hugh was trying to type a ‘romantic message’ for his date.” Didi turned a page, her mouth twisting in a moue of disgust that broadcasted her thoughts on the topic of romance. “He thought it would be ‘charmingly retro.’”
I chewed my lip. “How bad is the damage? Also, you know about the date?”
“Amberford’s a small town, Abby,” Didi said dismissively. “The H key is stuck.” A ghost of a smile crossed Didi’s face. “He hasn’t noticed yet.”
I masked a shudder. This was one witch no one should mess with.
The day continued in much the same fashion, AKA complete and utter bedlam.
Janet had to break up a territorial dispute between two pixies in accounting.
Someone accidentally CC’d a ghoul on an email meant for a client, causing a minor diplomatic incident.
Gavin finally emerged from hiding only to immediately set fire to a different stack of papers when Charlene’s afternoon shriek startled him.
By the time five o’clock rolled around, I was more than ready to face whatever horrors awaited me at the building meeting. At least brownies couldn’t set things on fire.