“I’m right here, cara. Come see what I have in the back.” Flo had thrown open the door to my storeroom. “You’ll love this dress. Purple. Your color. It will look fabulous on you. Jeremiah will take one look at you and—boom!—he’s yours again.”
Jeremiah. Jeremy Blade. Whatever the hell he chose to call himself this week, we’d parted ways in Los Angeles. He was there, I was here. One of the reasons for my recent crying jags.
“Jerry won’t be seeing me.” I didn’t resist when Flo dragged me into the back room. She slammed the door. I’d told Jerry we needed a break. So we were broken. Sniff.
“I fix everything.” Flo hugged me. “He’s going to be Ricardo’s best man so you two can get back together. Sì?”
Ricardo, or Richard Mainwaring, was Flo’s husband. They’d been married at a private ceremony, but now Flo a.k.a. Bridezilla with fangs wanted a big wedding. Her brother Damian was footing the bill, so this promised to be the wedding of several centuries.
“Doubt it’ll be that easy, but thanks. I’d have thought Richard would have asked one of his Vatican cronies.” Richard is a former priest. Long story.
“Oh, there will be plenty of those guys here. One will be honored to perform the ceremony again, of course.” Flo flipped open a magazine and stabbed a picture. “This dress. Cute? No?”
“What’s with the manicure?” I couldn’t help noticing that each of her nails wore a slightly different color. I lifted her finger to examine the dress under it. It was cute. Actually might work on my size-twelve figure, if there was elastic involved. Forget puff sleeves. Made my arms look fat. But Jerry liked me in purple. And loved a low neckline. I had visions of him seeing me walk down the aisle and forgetting all our issues.
“Glory! I said I’m trying out colors for my wedding day.” Flo held out her hand. “Which one do you like?”
I focused. Okay. Flo and I compared colors to the fabric swatch from her wedding dress until we settled on “Blush.”
“Es perfecto. Grazi, Glory.” She hugged me again. “I knew you would help me. Now I have another favor. Did you see this?” She pulled a local newspaper out from under her magazine.
“What is it?” I glanced down and recognized the picture. “Ray? He’s coming to town too?” Ray a.k.a. Israel Caine. The other man I’d left in L.A. Okay, I admit it. My heart, which barely beats anyway, gave a little jig of happiness. Both my guys, hot vampires who I loved and had decided to give up, were coming to town. Would either of them want to see me again?
Well, Jerry wouldn’t have a choice, would he? And Ray? I grabbed the paper. The rock star was singing at a venue at the South by Southwest Music Festival. The festival was held every spring in Austin to give music producers a chance to hear new talent. The article claimed Ray was coming with the owner of his record label, another vampire. Maybe Ray would drop by the shop. I’d been his mentor, and it had only been a few weeks since Ray had claimed he loved me. But then I’d dumped him. Not an action guaranteed to keep his love light burning.
“Glory? Look at me.” Flo fiddled with a bottle of nail-polish remover. “That favor?”
“What is it, Flo?” I threw down the paper. How pathetic. I’d been on my own for less than a month, and I was already imagining scenarios where both men were begging for me to come back to them. And then there’d been Rafe’s interesting move. Forget it. I’d looked like hell. Surely he’d been playing me, hadn’t really meant—
“Glory, quit ignoring me. And blocking your thoughts.” Flo frowned and shook my arm. “This is serious, mia amica.”
I hid my smile. Didn’t everything to do with my friend’s wedding rank right up there with the desire for world peace and half-price sales? “Okay, Flo, I’m riveted. What’s up?”
“Ray, Israel Caine. He’ll be in Austin right before my wedding, sì?”
“Yes.” I didn’t like the calculating look on Flo’s face. She was blocking her thoughts too. But then she always blocked. Not that I usually tried to pry into them anyway. But this was an emergency. “What do you want, Flo?”
“I want Israel Caine to sing at my wedding, Glory. Please ask him for me. He’ll do it for you. You saved his life.”
“He’s done a lot for me too, Flo. We’re even.” I frowned down at that purple dress. Six to eight weeks for delivery. But Flo would figure out a way around that minor technicality, probably by throwing money at it.
The major issue? Ray and Jerry at Flo’s wedding. The two men hated each other. Because I loved both of them. And Rafe would be there, of course. I’d ask him to be my date. He’d love to jump into a brawl with my name on it. I smiled.
Two
“You’re the bride. You want Ray, I’ll get him for you.” I winced when Flo hugged me a little too enthusiastically. “Easy there, girlfriend. And wait, I have conditions.” Gee, I was on a roll laying down the law, now wasn’t I? But I’d spent several hundred years being the doormat for everyone else to walk on. Those days were over, thank you very much.
“Conditions?” Flo stepped back and gave me a probing look. I blocked her of course. No way was I letting her stroll through my thoughts. Not when she never let me see hers.
“The purple dress. Lose the puffed sleeves. Or go back to the black. And this is the last change. Swear it.” I grabbed her shoulders. “Seriously, Flo. I don’t know how you’re managing to get these dresses anyway, but decide already. Concentrate on the important stuff like—”
“The bachelorette party you’ll be giving me!” Flo hugged me again, more gently this time. For someone who’d never been touchy-feely—with women anyway—Flo was being positively mushy.
“You’re kidding. Right? What do I know about stuff like that?” I knew enough to not want any part of it. Male strippers. Too much alcohol. I’d seen movies. Watched TV.
“Hah! I see it in your eyes. You know what to do. Get some hunky men to dance for us. Gather all my girlfriends and we’ll party all night. It’ll be fun.” Flo danced around the room. “Maybe you can have it in Rafael’s new club.”
I bit back a snarky comment. Flo had no girlfriends other than me. She was scraping together my friends to get a bridal party. Even the Siren who’d threatened to send me to hell recently was on the list to wear purple. My BFF was all about men and had never bothered to cultivate girlfriends until she and I had bonded over great shoes and designer handbags. I sighed and shook my head.
“Fine, I’ll throw something together. At least there won’t be alcohol involved. How bad could it be?” I had three weeks. Maybe Rafe’s club would be open. Hopefully he’d let me do it after hours and wouldn’t charge me. But with a new partner in the picture . . . And male dancers? Maybe a desperate student—
“Glory, not all of my bridesmaids are vampires, you know. Of course you’ll serve alcohol. And some of those special treats the EVs make for vampires to eat. Don’t worry about cost. I’ll pay. I know you can’t afford this.”
“That’s not fair.” I realized it was the truth, though. Flo liked everything first-class. I had a coach budget.
“Life isn’t fair, mia amica. This is my fantasy. So I pay. You be hostess. Send me the bills. We’ll have a blast.” She grinned and picked up her cell phone. “Now I call and order the dresses. When they arrive, I’ll get the seamstress to rip off the sleeves. Yes?”
“Yes. Now I’m running to the store. Rafe doesn’t wear underwear. I’m buying him some. And bigger towels.” I slung my purse over my shoulder, wishing I’d snagged his credit card.
“Whoa. This is interesting.” Flo nabbed me just as I reached the back door. “I get a picture of you and Rafe, that’s our Valdez, eh? And him with no underwear. He’s a fine-looking human now, isn’t he?”
“Sure. You were a better roommate. He cooks, Flo. Tortures me with great smells, then struts around in a tiny towel.” I leaned in. “He’s a friend. That’s all. But I know how to appreciate a great male body, just like you do.”
“Oh, yes. Tell me.” Flo licked her lips. “I’m married, not blind.”
“He’s built. With these cute little dimples . . .” I sighed. “I’m buying him underwear. So he’ll quit flashing his butt at me.”
Flo arched an eyebrow. “So. A friend who flashes you. Seems he wants you to notice him. And not in just a friendly way. Sì?”
“Maybe. But I can’t deal with it right now. I’ve got Blade coming to town, thanks to Richard. And Ray to talk to, thanks to you.” I couldn’t help it, I grinned. “Now I’m supposed to consider Rafe as a potential more-than-friend? I just can’t.” Well, I could, but that would make me a megaslut, now wouldn’t it? I jerked open the back door. “I’ve got to go. Tell Lacy I’ll be back in an hour.”
“Right. And do you know Rafael’s size, mia amica?”
I grinned. “Thirty-two waist, but otherwise? Extra large, girlfriend, extra large.” I heard her laughter as I shut the door. My aging Suburban sat parked in the alley in its usual spot. I had a fifty-fifty chance that it would start. Past time I traded it in and got a more reliable car, but that budget . . .
I was a foot away from it when I realized I wasn’t alone. I smelled . . . human. Two humans were nearby. I whipped around, suddenly on high alert. Without a bodyguard I had to be smart. A hell of a lot of bad things had happened in this alley. I stuck my key in the door and jerked it to unlock the old car.
I could hear them breathing as they came closer. Damn this lock. It finally gave, and I wrenched the door open and leaped inside. Overreacting? Maybe, but I slammed it shut and locked myself in anyway. Good thing. The woman dressed in black from head to toe who stepped out of the shadows didn’t look friendly. Neither did the large man who stood behind her. In fact, they both had the “Death to all vampires” glare down pat. I stuck the key in the ignition and turned. Nothing but clicks. I slapped the steering wheel. Unreliable hunk of junk.
