Business With Pleasure (Empathy in the Preternatural PNW Book 2) Read online

  Part of me wanted to shove someone down just to see if they would apologize for it.

  I spent the rest of the con near the stage, watching the signings, staring mostly at my ex-husband. It made me feel good to see him so fulfilled, doing something with his life he enjoyed. It said something unpleasant about me that a little part of my brain had, prior to our reunion, been convinced that my leaving had ruined his life. I chose to ignore my egotism and focus on how happy for him I was in the moment.

  By the end of the convention, when the Sneeds were all exchanging information and helping the vendors clean up their booths, Stan and I left out the back together.

  “That was nice,” I commented. He nodded, and I felt an exhausted kind of contentment puff out of him. I reached out and rubbed his shoulder. “You want to get dinner?”

  “I am pretty hungry,” he said, before smiling. “But you knew that.”

  I nodded. “Come on, I know a really great vegetarian place.”

  “You do?” he asked, genuinely surprised. I hooked my arm into his and steered him toward the parking garage.

  “Not because I want to; I still eat everything.” I gave him a wink, making sure he knew I half-meant it in a dirty way. He shook his head over a smile. “Chloe’s vegan.”

  “Oh, that’s nice.”

  “It usually is, yeah. Sometimes she makes me eat vegetables and I have to threaten her with bodily harm, but a lotta times there are cookies.”

  “Well, no wonder you don’t mind.”

  We idly chatted about his parents as we got to my car, got further in depth about my sister’s perfect family as we drove, and paused the conversation as we entered the restaurant. The waitress seated us quickly out in the atrium and Stan took in the scenery with a sort of brain-dead pleasure that I’d never seen on him before. I ordered a pot of my favorite tea and Stan asked for the same. With the sound of the burbling fountain to my left, I reached across the table to touch his hand. He looked up at me blankly for a second and then shook his head.

  “I’m sorry. I’m always a little drained after conventions. I adore them, but I’m not really built for all the attention.”

  “Oh, don’t worry. I just wanted to make sure you weren’t falling asleep.” I pointed at one of the menu items. “Don’t waste brainpower; that’s the tastiest sandwich on the menu.”

  “I don’t know if I should trust your judgment, Miss Eats Everything, but I’m going to for now. What are you getting?”

  “Pizza.” I snorted. “I’m surprised you even had to ask.”

  “Right, silly me.” Stan smiled and watched me as I folded and stacked the menus, setting them at the edge of the table. Finally I felt a spark in his emotions and he perked up. “I got a list of the attendees yesterday evening. I don’t think I remembered to mention it before you left. Norma wasn’t on the list for either day. Did you catch anything unpleasant?”

  I thought of poor deceased Linda in my driveway, but didn’t mention Friday night at all. I didn’t want to distress Stan when he was riding happily on a wave of post-convention bliss.

  “Sadly, no. I did laps around that place, bought food, harassed vendors, wore red, and no one got my radar buzzing.”

  The waitress brought our tea and Stan poured his, ignoring the sugar packets on the table. I upended six of them into my pot, stirred it, and waited as Stan ordered. Once the waitress left the table, I closed the teapot lid and started to speak. Stan interrupted my intake of breath, which I blamed on his sleepiness.

  “Someone got your radar buzzing, but I’m fairly certain his name wasn’t Norma.”

  I sat there, my mouth still open as if my question had gotten backed up somewhere behind my tongue and I was just waiting for it to wrestle its way out. Stan let out a laugh that bordered on a snort and then sipped his tea, possibly to cover it up. I shut my mouth and tried to fight my unnecessary embarrassment.

  “No. His name wasn’t Norma.”

  “You two looked like a pair, the only spots of color in the room.”

  “Yeah, what’s up with that?”

  Stan shrugged, set his tea down. “I’m not really sure. I just attract a certain type of fan. I mean, I guess I don’t really use a lot of colorful clothing in my books, though that’s changed in Airship.”

  “Are all your fans vegetarian?”

  “Possibly. I don’t see any meat talk on the forums.”

  “You actually participate there?”

  “Occasionally.” He leaned back in his chair. I watched him let go of his strict posture, and it made me think of high school again. “They’re all so nice, and a lot of their conversation isn’t even about the books. If someone asks a question, I do my best to answer.”

  “How many people ask about the squid?”

  Stan’s lips pulled up in a crooked smile and I felt a little slice of smugness in him that surprised me.

  “No one. They’re too polite.”

  “So, you just let the controversy go like that? For shame!” I teased, leaning back in my own chair.

  “Right now I’m fine with it. It doesn’t cause too much trouble, and…who knows.” He shrugged. “One day I may want to settle the debate. Right now, I haven’t decided. To be honest, I hadn’t even considered there was another way to interrogate the text. I wrote a story and hoped people would like it.”

  “Well, that’s all you really need to do.”

  “True.”

  Our food came, and we both dove in. As Stan ate, he seemed to wake up a bit, getting more animated. We exchanged stories from our ten-year radio silence, and as we finished eating, I decided it was time to bring up the elephant in the room.

  “So,” I said as he lifted his napkin to dab at his face as if he were as messy an eater as me. “It’s been ten years.”

  “It has indeed,” Stan said. His gaze drifted to the table as he realized what my tone was really saying. “And you want to talk about it?”

  “You don’t?”

  Still watching the table, he took a deep breath and straightened up, as if perfect posture could ward off unpleasantness.

  “I wasn’t going to bring it up.”

  “How could you not?”

  “I…didn’t want to be rude.”

  I watched him, a smile pulling hard at my mouth. “You didn’t want to be rude? Oh, Stanley. I never deserved you.”

  Stan’s expression went sad and I felt a soft sort of pity pool inside him. “Don’t do that to yourself.”

  I held up a hand. “I did enough to you.” Though the pain wasn’t fresh, the guilt seemed to renew itself any time I thought too hard about what I’d done. “I’m not sure why you don’t hate me— No.” I shook my head. ”That’s not true. You don’t hate me because you’re a better person than that.”

  “I don’t hate you because I’m sure I share the blame.”

  I blinked up at him. “For my adultery? I made that decision on my own. It was cowardly and weak and every time I think about…” My nose stung, my lip trembed. Stan just lowered his gaze to the table again while I fought off the urge to sob. “I did everything wrong. You were wonderful and I just didn’t appreciate it.”

  “I don’t think that was it,” Stan said, his tone surprisingly forceful. “After you left I thought a lot about what had happened, how we had been doing. With time came clarity and I realized that we weren’t happy, not how we’d been in high school. We shouldn’t have gotten married, just because we were young. I agree that your decision to run without trying to work things out was cowardly, but it would have ended anyway. We were too different. Please, I don’t hate you, and I don’t think you should hate yourself.”

  I watched him and, though I could feel myself tearing up, it wasn’t the same forceful wailing that had wanted to push through my lips shortly before. I was sad for what we were, and that I hadn’t given it the respect it deserved. After a few silent seconds, I nodded once.

  “Okay then. But I’m paying for dinner.”

  “I should at
least—“

  “Nope. Don’t argue or I’ll make a scene.”

  Distress passed over Stan’s features at the idea, and he nodded. I laughed and pulled out my debit card to make sure the waitress didn’t have a chance to charge him. Once we were paid and on our way through the parking lot, Stan checked his watch. Surprise gurgled within him.

  “I can’t believe how early it is. Is your place far? I’d love to see it,” he said. I arched a brow at him across the hood of my car. I couldn’t see the blush across his cheeks, but I felt it. Before he could start backpedaling or explaining that he hadn’t meant anything intimate, I yanked open my door and climbed in. When he was seated next to me, I patted him on the leg.

  “I’m teasing. I’d love to show you my place. You can pet my bird.”

  “I’m immensely glad right now that you don’t have a cat.”

  I laughed as I started the car, glad that what little mischief I’d been able to rub off on him in high school hadn’t disappeared.

  ##

  Stan never made it back to his hotel, but it wasn’t for salacious reasons. We spent a long time catching up, and I put him to bed in my guest room, passing out in my own bed shortly after. I dropped him off at his hotel before heading in to work, late for a Monday morning. I had just under an hour until my first appointment, but Chloe still teased me for being tardy.

  “Please tell me you’re late because you had a torrid one-night stand.” Chloe followed me into my office and waggled her brows at me when I turned to face her after I dropped my purse on the couch. I sighed, but put a small smile on my face as if I was trying to hold in a secret. Chloe followed me out of my office and to the records room, poking me rhythmically in the back as we went. I remained silent until she finally made a whining sound. I laughed and poured my tea, upending the sugar container over the cup.

  “I did have an overnight guest.”

  “Oh, do tell.”

  “It was Stan.” I said, putting the mug to my lips as if to hide a smile. It was still too hot to drink, but the tea smelled good. Chloe rolled her eyes and snorted, turning away from me. I wasn’t sure at first if she thought I was joking, but she shook her head.

  “Your ex-husband doesn’t count. I know you.”

  “You know me what?” I followed her out into the waiting area

  “You’re not gonna dip your toe in that pool again, come on.” Chloe took a seat at her desk, spun in her chair to face me as I followed her. I stood there, annoyed that she knew me so well.

  “I could. I could be dipping! There could be dipping—and not of toes! Dipping of dirty things!”

  “Uh huh,” Chloe said, dismissively. I sighed and gave in.

  “Fine, no dipping. He slept in the guest room after we talked. We had ten years to catch up on.”

  I took a sip of my tea, regretted it instantly and felt stupid for not remembering how hot it still was.

  “I wouldn’t mind having sex, though. Not,” I clarified, “with Stan. That pool has sailed. But sex, all the same.”

  Chloe ignored my mixed metaphor and jerked a thumb upward, in Mel’s direction. I glowered at her and shook my head rapidly, hoping she left it at that and didn’t verbalize her suggestion. Eager to change the subject, I moved on to more pleasant topics than sex with Mel. “I found another dead body Friday night.”

  Chloe went tense, all trace of humor disappearing. “Where? Is everything okay?”

  “I wasn’t in danger. A neighbor had a heart attack practically on my lawn. Her damn dog woke me up and I ran outside to find her, just…well, like the other guy.” I shifted uncomfortably at the memory. Chloe was watching me, alarm flaring within her.

  “Two in the same week? That’s weird,” she said, her gaze going distant. Her alarm settled into grim determination. I wondered what she was thinking, and why she felt like she was preparing for something.

  “I’m not in any danger,” I pointed out. “I know it’s called a heart attack but I don’t think one’s going to jump out of a dark corner with an axe and yell ‘rawr!’”

  Chloe’s eyes snapped to my face and she snorted out a laugh like my comment surprised her. After a moment, she shook her head.

  “You’re right. You can’t die from someone else’s heart problems. But I’m restricting your sugar intake, just in case your heart gets any ideas.”

  “What?” I demanded, stomping my foot. “You can’t do that!”

  “Too late. I’m getting rid of the rest of that candy you bought Friday, and you can’t stop me.”

  “I’ll eat it first,” I threatened, whirling to rush into my office. I set my tea down and opened the bottom drawer where I normally kept my purse, aiming to devour as many handfuls of chocolate as I could. The plastic bags I’d stashed there before leaving for the weekend sat empty and flattened, under a sticky note that just had a smiley face drawn on it.

  Chloe didn’t bother to ask about the screeching string of cuss words I let loose. She’d stopped consoling me about losing sugar to the candy thief back in January, and no longer considered my rage over the creature worth addressing.

  ##

  My first two appointments went off without a hitch. My Mondays had become significantly less horrible since my least favorite client moved our appointments to Fridays. Granted, my Fridays were now worse, but the fact that they led into the weekends made seeing Mrs. Q marginally more tolerable. I was bent over a drawer in the squat filing cabinet in the records room when Chloe yelled out to me from her desk.

  “Gwen, you have a visitor!”

  “Just a minute!” I yelled back, finding the file I needed and pulling it out just enough to peel back the front and check a date.

  “In some parts of the animal kingdom that position would be considered an intimate invitation.”

  My brain recognized the voice and the rest of my body flooded with bashful excitement. I jerked upward, turning to face the source, and found Owen standing just inside the doorway. The folder I’d been holding had come with me as I’d twisted, and its contents now littered the floor. I looked down at the paperwork, swore, and then crouched down to pick them up.

  Before I could say anything, Owen was already on his way over, crouching down to my level to help me clean up. We didn’t say anything until the paperwork was secure in its folder again, at which point we looked at each other.

  “I would have called, but you did threaten not to answer,” he explained as he stood up and extended a hand toward me.

  I grinned up at him for a moment before squeezing his fingers. He pulled me to my feet with a subtle tug toward him, and I followed it. There was a certain bold directness to him that I really enjoyed. I broke the stare after a bit, letting go of his hand and moving to set the folder back in the drawer. He was quiet as I knocked the drawer shut and then gestured past him to the hallway.

  “Did you come to avail yourself of my services?” I asked as I walked past him toward my office. Chloe pretended to be very busy at her desk—shuffling papers, clicking pens, moving the mouse around like it accomplished something—as we stepped out. I paused next to her desk and Owen did the same, tucking his hands into his pockets as he answered.

  “That depends on what you’d be willing to do for me.”

  “For you? Or to you?”

  Owen smiled toothily, and I caught the excitement sparking off his skin. Chloe gave a fake cough, and Owen tried to hide his laugh. I gestured to my office and took the moment he glanced over to turn and stick my tongue out at Chloe. She just winked obnoxiously and moved her seat to give us our undivided attention.

  I sighed and hissed, “Oh jeez.”

  Turning my back defiantly on Chloe, I gripped the back of Owen’s elbow so I could lead him into my office. Once we were alone and I’d knocked the door nearly shut, I slid my hand down his sleeve before letting go, making sure he noticed the lengthy contact. He stayed close as he looked around the room, turning slowly before landing his gaze directly on mine.

  “Nice p
lace.”

  “Thanks. The couch is good for stretching out on, sharing all your darkest secrets.”

  “And desires?” Owen asked, his voice low. I bit my lip, wondering if he was this bold with all potential dates or if I was just sending out all the right signals.

  “If you like.” I considered kissing him then, just grabbing his collar and pulling him close in a frenzy of lust and excitement. I could tell from the way he was watching me, the way his emotions rubbed against me like a cat in heat, that he would have been game.

  I could feel Chloe out in the waiting room though, her amusement tinged with a bit of worry that I didn’t quite understand, and it kept me grounded.

  “So,” I said, shifting my footing slightly to step back without making it obvious that I felt the distance was necessary to my self-control. Owen mirrored my action. “Had you called, what would we have talked about?”

  “I would have invited you to lunch in, say,” he lifted his wrist as if to check his watch, but didn’t look away from my face, “now?”

  Chloe’s chair creaked out in the waiting room, and I considered that she was probably leaning in to get an earful of what we were saying. Sighing, I rolled my eyes and held up one finger, silently asking Owen to wait. Grabbing the knob, I yanked the door open and found Chloe twisting with a yelp to face her desk as if she hadn’t been eavesdropping.

  I smiled at her and said, “Oh Ms. Warren, is my lunch hour free?”

  “Well, hmm.” Chloe said, masking her face in innocence. “Just give me a moment while I check.”

  I rolled my eyes to Owen and found him grinning at the show we were putting on. Chloe hummed as she opened my calendar on the computer and then turned back to me. “You have a one-thirty and then a three-thirty after that. Will you need more than ninety minutes for lunch?”