NowAmber’s comment about the tires makes sense.
Climbing into my 4Runner, I lock myself inside, crank it, and turn the AC on full blast before calling Amber’s cell.
She answers on the first ring, giggling. “Well?”
“This was Dexter?”
“Uh,duh. He likes you.”
“Let’s not buy me flowers. Nooo, let’s buy me a set of tiresliterallyworth more than twice what my ride’s worth.” Hell, he probably spent more on the tires than I did on my engine and transmission overhaul. “Should I be creeped out?”
“No. Hey, you needed tires. Right?”
I grumble. “Yes.”
“Say, ‘Thank you, Dexter. That was very thoughtful of you. I appreciate it.’ Go ahead and practice it now, so you know how to say it later.”
Ugh!“Smart-ass.”
She giggles again. “Better than a dumb-ass. Enjoy dinner!”
My attorney bestie hangs up on me.
Okay, then.
On my way to the club, I stop and buy another prepaid credit card with the extra cash I held back last night. As I’m waiting for the clerk to activate it, I wonder what it must be like to be Dexter Van Sussex. He’s probably rich enough to never think about how much something costs. Probably plops down a black AmEx and pays it off every month.
Must be nice.
His little purchase on my behalf probably didn’t even blip on his radar in terms of expense. Which was spendy, no doubt, considering how much I know those tires cost. Between the price of the tires themselves and then getting them so fast—and paying someone to do a record-fast tire change on my car, without my keys, in the parking lot of my apartment building…
Well, you can’t snag a Groupon for that kind of service.
No matter what Amber says, I don’t know if that makes me feel good or not. He can buy whatever he wants, whenever he wants.
I wonder if he thinksIcan be bought?
Guess we’ll find out.
The reserved staff parking area behind Club Toxic is empty when I pull into my spot. Another reason I like arriving first and leaving last is that I don’t have to look at the other cars parked around mine. How pitiful mine looks in comparison. The runt of the litter next to Bugattis and Mercedes and Ferraris and Lambos or whatever exotic flavor of metal the staff vamps decide to roll up in on any given night. Several of them have multiple cars. Lucius usually has a driver and security for him and Selene, but every once in a while, he’ll drive.
Why do I do this to myself? Why do I choose to live like this?
I could walk down to the basement tonight, stroll up to one of Lucius’ hunky men, let them taste me, and be set forlife. I’ve heard how they talk about my blood, not that they know it’s mine. Every last one of them are hunks in suits, rich—loaded.
They’d be territorial and not share me.
For the rest of my life, however long it is, I could be taken care of, kept happy.
Have my ass spanked every night. Get all the vamp D I want, whenever I want it. Whatever it takes to keep me a subby little sweetblood. Be a pampered pet human.
That could all be…mine.
Dexter Van Sussex could be mine. Or, rather, I’d be his.
Because you can’treallyever own a vampire’s heart, can you?
Except for my secret occasional supernatural stalker. I won’t put someone else in jeopardy. My left hand touches the ring on the chain through my shirt.
