Midlife Mojo (Not Too Late #3) - Victoria Danann Page 0,2
glanced away and pressed her lips together like she was perturbed. “Since Maeve and her lot didn’t bother. My sense is that it was a courtesy call. Nice, really. The reason behind the gift is what’s really interesting about this.”
I was shaking my head. “Disagree on two counts. First, ‘interesting’ is too mild an expression for this event. I think scary or anxiety-ridden would be more appropriate descriptions. Second, it’s not the gift that’s the worry. It’s that this self-confessed Devil was in my house. My house that has state-of-the-art fae security! And, even more worrisome. It didn’t wake Keir!” I took a breath and blew it out. “Then there’s the confusion about whether I was asleep or awake. I have a vivid memory of getting up, going to the kitchen, and talking to the monster. Calmly, if I do say so myself.” I was rather proud of that. “I don’t remember going back to bed, but when I woke up, I remembered the whole thing and it felt like it happened. In the flesh.”
“Hmmm.”
“If you don’t have more to give me than that I may need whiskey instead of tea.”
“I don’t have whiskey.”
“Literal much?”
“I’m not the one suggesting hard liquor before breakfast.” Esme’s brow formed the scowl that meant she was trying to decide if I’d asked a question that was rhetorical or one that required a response. “Never mind. Moving on to the chase. Did I get an in-person visit from that thing or not?”
My phone growled like the MGM lion. What could be a more perfect ringtone for Keir? And it had never failed to make me smile. Until now.
“Hello?”
“Where are you?”
“Esme’s.”
“You didn’t say you were leaving.”
“I thought you’d be occupied with sports-o-rama long enough that you’d never know I was gone.”
“Well.” Pause. “I do. Know you’re gone.”
“Okay.”
“The crystal is gone as well.”
“Yeah,” I answered slowly. “I have it right here.”
He sighed. “It’s just that… Well, I wanted to be sure you’re okay.”
It occurred to me that I’d related a bizarre supernatural occurrence involving the misplacement of a physical item, perhaps a creature as well, then left without a word, note, or text. It might have been thoughtless of me.
“I didn’t mean to worry you. It was thoughtless of me to disappear.” I instantly regretted using the word disappear. Speaking it out loud sparked an unpleasant zinger of anxiety in my gut. “Right after Esme tells me what happened last night, I’ll come home and make gingerbread pancakes.”
“You know how to make pancakes?” He sounded surprised.
“Not like Olivia. But then nobody cooks like Olivia.”
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
“Bye.”
“Bye.”
When I looked up, I saw that Esmerelda was smirking and I wanted to know why. “What’s that about?”
“I was recalling the day we met when I predicted you’d find love? And you were quite adamant that I was wrong?”
“What makes you think I’ve found love?”
It was a silly thing to say and I’m sure I looked outrageously sheepish trying to make that question sound valid. Never one to indulge in meaningless repartee, Esme simply grunted.
“So, this is an I-told-you-so moment? Okay. Go ahead and gloat. You’re the amazing Esmerelda and I might be in love.” Esme started to say something else, but I cut her off. “That’s the most you’re going to get. Now. Back to my problem.”
“What problem is that?”
I gaped. “The thing that showed up in my kitchen? And left this?”
Her eyes lowered to the pink crystal on the table between us before locking on mine again. “I’ve heard you, Rita. I’m simply confused as to why you see this as a problem.”
I grunted as I slouched back in my chair. “This isn’t a game, Esme.”
“Good. Because I don’t like games and don’t have time for them.”
“When you have a life span as limited as mine, we’ll talk about your claim that your time is at a premium. Until then, you’ve got time.”
She sniffed. “Rita. Did the creature you saw hurt you?”
“No.”
“Did he threaten to hurt you?”
“Did he say he was on a mission to protect you from harm?”
“Well. Sort of.”
“Do you think he left an artifact that’s intended to harm you?”
I looked at the crystal again. “Not sure.” She narrowed her eyes. “Okay. I don’t get the feeling that there’s anything bad attached.”
“Therefore?” she said.
I inhaled deeply.
I exhaled deeply.
“So, you’re saying that, if he didn’t intend me harm, and left an object that appears to be harmless, why am I upset?”
“Excellent. You’ve resolved your own dilemma.”
“No. I haven’t.”
My supernatural guide was showing signs of potential exasperation building. “Rita…”