"It's okay," I told him. "It's your business, and we've all got our...ah, preferences."
He looked mildly reassured but still clearly wanted to bolt. There was a wedding ring on his hand, and I expected I was dealing with a fetish he probably didn't share with his wife. Honestly, I was surprised he'd resorted to actual books when he could find a hundred times more sources on the Internet. Most likely he and his wife shared a home computer, and he feared discovery.
It was Georgina the succubus, not Georgina the bookstore manager, who asked the next question. Georgina the bookstore manager would have gotten fired for it if caught.
"You like the watching or the doing?" I kept my voice low.
He swallowed, studied me for mockery, and must have decided I was serious. "The, um, doing."
For half a breath, I considered going for it with him. I needed the energy, badly. He'd be an easy mark, consumed with a secret obsession he couldn't fulfill anywhere else. But, it'd mean doing it in this body, and I didn't like that. This was my preferred, everyday shape. I didn't want to sully it with business.
So, I smiled and sent him on his way, silently wishing him well in fulfilling his sexual desires.
I called Seth later while I was walking home from work to confirm our date. We were going to meet over at the Pacific Northwest Ballet to see The Nutcracker. While he appreciated the performing arts, getting him to go out while his book's ending loomed had been a Herculean task, and I still couldn't believe he'd agreed. He'd only conceded after I'd promised he could show up at the last possible minute.
Only, we apparently had different definitions of "last possible minute" because when the lights went down, he still hadn't surfaced. The ballet started, and I craned my neck each time I heard one of the doors open. The chair beside me stayed empty, unfortunately. It was a sign of my agitation that I missed a lot of the performance and couldn't appreciate Clara's dream - a dream as vivid for her as mine had been for me. I loved the ballet. I'd danced in a few shows over my lifetime and never got tired of watching graceful muscles and elaborate costumes.
At intermission, I turned on my cell phone and saw that Seth had tried to call. I dialed him back without even listening to the voice message. When he answered, I said, "Please tell me a crazy fan kidnapped you and broke your legs with a sledgehammer."
"Um, no. Didn't you get my message?"
"Well, no, seeing as my phone said it came in a half-hour ago. I didn't have it on because I was busy watching this thing. You know, The Nutcracker?"
He sighed. "I'm sorry. I couldn't leave. I was too wrapped up. I thought if I, uh, gave you enough notice..."
"Notice? This was more like a belated birthday card. Six months after the fact."
Silence fell, and I felt some satisfaction in knowing he was quietly acknowledging his wrongdoing.
"I'm sorry, Thetis. It was...I shouldn't have done it, busy or not. I'm really sorry. You know how I get."
Now I sighed. He was so damned sincere and adorable that I had a hard time holding a grudge. This wasn't, however, the first time he'd stood me up or otherwise neglected our social life. Sometimes I wondered if I allowed him too much indulgence. I spent so much time worrying about my transgressions taking advantage of him; maybe I was the one being walked over without even realizing it.
"You want to meet up after the show?" I asked, trying not to sound mad. "Cody invited me out to the bar with them. We could hang out there for a while."
"Um...well, no."
"No?" The annoyance I'd tried to quell shot its head back up again. "I just forgave you for standing me up and wasting the money I paid on your ticket, and now you're turning down my conciliatory offer?"
"Look...I really am sorry, but watching you and your friends get drunk isn't exactly appealing."
I sat for a moment, too stunned to respond. He'd spoken in his typically mild way, but I'd heard the slightest bit of derision underscoring his words. Seth didn't drink. He always tolerated my excesses good-naturedly, but I suddenly wondered if they irritated him after all. His meaning came through as haughtiness to me.
"Sorry we're not up to your standards. God knows we can't expect you to do anything outside of your comfort zone."
"Please, stop. I don't want to fight with you," he said with exasperation. "I'm really, really, really sorry about all this. I didn't mean to stand you up. You know that."
The lights flashed, signaling the end of intermission. "I've got to go."
"Will you...will you please come over tonight? Go out with your friends, let me finish, and then I'll make things up to you. I promise. I...I have an early Christmas present for you."
The hesitancy in his voice softened my heart. A little. "Yeah. Okay. It might be really late when I get there."
"I'll wait up."
We said our good-byes and disconnected. I watched the rest of the show in a grumpy mood and decided drinking and bitching with the gang couldn't come a moment too soon.
CHAPTER 5
Peter, Cody, and Hugh already had a table when I arrived at the Cellar. Tawny sat with them, much to my dismay. I'd completely forgotten about my apprentice. At least she didn't have Niphon in tow. I hoped that meant she'd finally bagged a guy, though her lack of a post-sex succubus glow suggested otherwise. Neither Carter nor Jerome had deigned to show. I recalled that Jerome was out of town and figured the angel was out with his colleagues. They could all still be at my apartment for all I knew.
"Hey," Cody called in greeting, making room for me beside him. "I thought you said you were busy."
"Yeah, well, plans change," I grumbled. I gestured to Hugh. "Got a cigarette?"
He tsked me. "No smoking in public places anymore, sweetie."
Groaning, I flagged down a waitress. Smoking was an ugly habit I'd given up for the sake of the mortals around me. Still, after smoking for over a century, I found I craved the occasional hit during stressful times. The city smoking ban was good for Seattle but damned inconvenient for me and my bad mood.
Cody couldn't let my vague answer go. "How'd your plans change? Weren't you and Seth going out?"
Hugh laughed when I didn't answer. "Uh-oh, trouble in paradise."
"He had things to do," I replied stiffly.
"Things or people?" asked Peter. "Didn't you give him the go-ahead to sleep around if he wanted?"
"He's not doing that."
"Tell yourself that if it makes you feel better," teased Hugh. "No one can write as much as he claims to."
Since my friends apparently had no lives of their own, I had to endure a number of other pokes and jibes. They probably didn't mean to do any real damage, but their words hurt anyway. Seth had already upset me enough without their help. Anger simmered within me, and I tried to channel it into my rate of gimlet consumption rather than my friends.
The only person who looked more miserable than me was Tawny. She wore a strapless red dress, almost identical in cut to the satin sheath I still had on from the ballet. Unlike mine, hers was made of spandex - what was it with her and that fabric anyway? - and about six inches shorter. Mine also fit.
"Why so glum?" I asked, hoping the others would find someone else to obsess on.
Her lower lip trembled, either from sadness or an inability to hold its own massive collagen-filled weight. "I still haven't, you know..."
It was enough to allay my own distress. It also meant Niphon was still in town, as I'd suspected upon seeing her. "How? How is that possible?"
She shrugged and leaned forward wretchedly, her elbows resting on knees that were spread open guy-style. With grace like that, no wonder she couldn't get laid.
I waved my hand around us. "Well, go out there, young succubus. This place is a buffet. Grab a plate and take your pick."
"Oh, yeah, like it's that easy."
"It is that easy. You might not be up to scoring a priest or anything, but you can definitely get some sort of fix."
"Maybe you can. I don't...I don't really know what to say to them."
I honestly couldn't believe this conversation was happening. It was weirder than me trying to convince Dante I was a succubus. Maddie had trouble talking to guys too, but a giant, crazily proportioned blonde throwing herself at men could get someone to sleep with her. It was a basic law of the universe.
"Well...if you really don't know what to say, just try going up and asking them if they want to have sex. Crass, but it'll probably work for someone."