CHAPTER FOUR #2
“Good.” Ruth nodded. “We need a male perspective anyway. Too many females all bickering over decorations and what sort of food to serve in the buffet.”
“Now you’re just trying to scare me,” Dex said straight faced, making Ruth laugh.
“Dex actually has some family experience with society events,” I said, tongue in cheek. “I’m sure you won’t find a better man for the job.”
“Really?” Ruth asked. “Your people have society connections?”
Dex nodded. “I’m trusting you to keep that fact in the strictest of confidences,” he said to Ruth. “Otherwise, it’ll blow my brooding, tough-guy image.”
“Your secret is safe with me,” she said, giving him another hug.
“Thanks Ruth,” he said.
“It’s settled then,” Ruth told him. “Tomorrow morning we’ll go to the bank and set up a new account for the ball.”
***
By the time I got home I was beat. Dropping my purse on the kitchen table, I toed off my shoes, nudged them toward the back door, and headed for the bedroom.
Changing into a pair of schleppy shorts and an old T-shirt, I pulled the ponytail holder from my hair.
Then I took off my glasses…and flopped face down onto my neatly made bed with a groan.
“What a day,” I said into the pillows.
And I stayed there, while my mind went back over the events of the day.
I couldn’t shake the worry that Fae magick was involved in the missing book and that young man’s death.
What if they’d figured out that the grimoire was finally out of Montgomery’s warded library and had rushed in to reclaim it?
Montgomery had said the death was violent, and I knew from personal experience the Fae were ferocious when provoked.
The chaos of the murder scene and getting energetically shoved out like that had left me feeling uneasy.
Could the Fae have left some magick behind and that’s what I’d run into?
Eventually I had to move, because my stomach decided that it was starving.
After pushing myself up to my elbows, I slipped my glasses back on and sighed.
Rolling over, I stood from the bed and scrubbed my hands through my hair.
A tired yawn overtook me, and I made my way to the kitchen hoping that I had something—anything left in the fridge to warm up quickly for supper.
It was either going to be leftovers that night, or I’d settle for a bowl of cereal.
Anything else seemed like far too much trouble.
I was scowling at the contents of my fridge—jeez I needed to meal prep on my day off, or something—and had resigned myself to a bowl of cereal, when there was a knock at my front door.
“Alexa,” I said to the monitor on the counter, “show me the front door camera.”
The screen flashed to life and what I saw there had my jaw dropping in surprise. Charles Montgomery was standing on my porch, still impeccably dressed, and he was holding a couple of boxes of pizza.
“You have got to be freaking kidding me!” I said under my breath.
He looked up at the security camera and gave me a mocking sort of salute. As if he could hear me.
Turning on my heel, I stalked to my door. After unlocking it, I whipped the front door open. “Did you get a second job delivering pizza?” I asked sarcastically.
“Hardly.” He raised one eyebrow at me. “Would you believe that I was in the neighborhood?”
I snorted out a laugh. “No.”
“With the new developments, I felt we should talk again.”
“Clearly word about the theft of the Witches Ball funds has reached you.”
“It has. But I felt you could give me the more pertinent details.” He shifted the boxes. “Be a shame if the pizza got cold. Especially since we never ate lunch today.”
“For fuck’s sake,” I muttered. “You are a pushy SOB aren’t you, Montgomery?”
He chuckled at that and smiled. That sincere curving of his lips changed him entirely. He’d always been attractive, but his smile? It was one dangerous weapon. Whoa, I thought, I must be seriously punch drunk from the day’s events to be thinking in any way about his smile.
“Are you going to invite me in?” he asked, and it jolted me from my own thoughts.
“Lucky for you, I happen to be hungry,” I said, opening the door fully for him. “Come in then.”
“You are too kind,” he said, bowing slightly from the waist.
“Jerk,” I muttered as he stepped inside.
The insult only made his mouth turn up more.
After shutting the door, I gestured for him to follow me back to the kitchen. “I was planning on calling you tomorrow to fill you in.” I pointed at the table. “You can put those down there.”
He slid the boxes onto the table as I went to pull plates from the cabinets.
“I like your house,” he said.
“Thanks,” I said cautiously.
“I mean it,” he said, picking up on my suspicion. “It’s a charming bungalow.”
“Prairie Craftsman,” I corrected automatically.
“It suits you.”
Not sure how to respond to that, I carried the plates to the table.
“I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you in such casual clothes,” he said.
My back stiffened. “You show up unannounced, and you’re giving me grief about what I’m wearing?”
“Not at all,” he said.
“Oh, well, thank the goddess,” I snarked, gripping the plates tighter—otherwise I might be tempted to chuck one at his head. “Don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t approved of my outfit, sugar.”
He stepped closer, holding out his hand for the plates. “Allow me. You look tired, Lorna.”
“It was a hell of a day,” I said, passing them over. I then went to the fridge, pulling out two cans of soft drinks. We sat across from one another at the table, and he opened up the first box which was a simple cheese pizza. The second held a loaded pizza.
“I’ll take the cheese,” I said.
“Don’t like pepperoni?” he asked, helping himself to a loaded slice.
“I don’t like onions,” I replied. “They tear up my stomach.”
“Good thing I followed my intuition and got a plain one then,” he said. “Eat. The carbs and protein will help refuel you.”
Unable to argue with that logic, and because I was terribly hungry, I dug in.
For the next few minutes, we both simply ate.
It was almost relaxing. Most men felt they had to fill any silence—usually with their own opinions or ego.
Yet, to my complete and utter shock, it didn’t seem to be the case with him.
A part of my mind was hyper-aware that Charles Montgomery, the head ceremonial magician of Birmingham, was sitting in my kitchen, and we were sharing a quiet meal. Which was absolutely bizarre.
I mean, I simply hadn’t had that scenario on this year’s bingo card.