“Hm, this is unusual.” He wants to probe further, I can tell, but I'm not talking. Not until I figure this out first.
“Thought you were of the use 'em and lose 'em mindset?” he carries on.
“Not this one if I can help it, okay? There’s something different about him. I can’t place my finger on it,” I snap and then glare at him as he made me reveal more than I wanted to.
Jerk.
He backs off, knowing he has pissed me off and we sit in a much-loathed-by-me awkward silence for the rest of the trip home to Malibu.
Grayson, my driver, also a Vampire, pulls into my driveway and punches in the security code. The gates open and we drive up to the ten-bedroom mansion that Devon and I share.
Yes, we live together but in separate bedrooms. I don’t want to be far away from him, and I know he wants to remain as close to me as he can. Not only for his well-being as a Vampire, but for other reasons as well.
A s we head to the bar area, my phone rings. It’s an unrecognized number, so I know it has to be Cole.
My heart starts to pound slightly when I answer. “Hello?” I ask innocently.
“Hi, Liv?” comes the reply.
“Yes, Cole, it's me.”
No response.
“Cole?”
“Yes, I'm here, just slightly intimidated. When we spoke earlier, I didn’t realize who you were...exactly.”
“Who did you think I was?” I ask.
“Um, I thought I recognized you, somehow...” he trails off. “I could have sworn we’d met before, but I’m fairly sure I would have remembered meeting the head of the studio I work for, who is in fact a young, beautiful blonde and not a middle-aged, fat guy named Edward.”
I laugh. “It’s an investment thing. No one who is anyone meets me,” I say. “Edward likes it that way.”
“Well, I would rather have met you sooner than him,” he says. “So, that guy you were with tonight… is he your husband?”
I smile at Devon. He can hear this entire conversation with his excellent Vampire hearing.
“No, just a friend,” I say.
Devon rolls his eyes at me. I stick my tongue out at him as he knows he is my darling boy.
“Good,” Cole says, his relief evident. “Have dinner with me Friday? I'll pick you up at eight?” he asks.
“Dinner yes, but I will meet you at eight. I’ll message you the details,” I say decisively.
“Okay, until then,” he says.
“Until then,” I repeat.
“Oh, and by the way, your British accent is quite charming,” he says and hangs up.
I mentally falter at both the compliment and the fact that he dared to hang up on me. The compliment is simple enough, but he caught me off guard. I have fought a long hard battle to retain the upper middle class accent I perfected centuries ago. We have been in America for over a century now, Devon and I, and while he has adapted, I have chosen not to.
Recovering, as I sense Devon watching me, I turn with what can only be described as a goofy grin on my face as I think back to our conversation. Devon stares at me, as I don't do goofy grins, but something about this man, this human, has turned my head in a way that it hasn’t been turned in a good long while. It’s dangerous and scary, but also exciting and daringly familiar. It pushes all lingering thoughts of CK out of my mind as I think about the handsome actor, while staring at Devon as he stares back at me in confusion.
“Smitten kitten,” Devon says again, laughing at me and this new nickname he has come up with.
“Fuck off,” I throw back at him with a menacing glare.