“Book club?”
“Yes. The one you and Myra are in. Just the two of you, giggling over the naughty bits in the marginalia of ancient texts and magical scrolls. Getting buzzed sniffing fermented ink and snorting archaic mold.”
He settled back, his tea at the ready. “Do tell me more.”
“I’d love to join your clubhouse. What old, moldy book do I have to lick to be part of the fun? Is there a dress code? Please tell me it’s silly hats. It’s silly hats, isn’t it?”
“There is no book club.”
“Right.” I gave him a big, exaggerated wink.
“She called me.”
“About the book club?”
“About you.”
Mayday.“Well, isn’t that nice? I’ll be going now. Call me if you need anything. No. You know what? You can call your book club buddy,Myra, and she can make you soup.”
“Delaney Reed.” That voice. Those chills. “Please be seated.”
I could leave. He had no power over me here. Not that kind of power. It would be easy to go home.
To my empty house where the leftovers of a dinner that never happened sat in the fridge.
I flopped down into the chair. “What?”
“She is…concerned.”
“She is nosey. You know that, don’t you? She is really a big ol’ busybody.”
He sipped tea, watched me.
“Fine,” I said. “What is she worried about this time? My work quality? My attendance? My tattered old soul?”
“Your happiness.”
I ran my fingers through my hair, which I’d forgotten to pull back in my usual pony tail before heading over here. “I know she wants what’s best for me, and I know she’s seen me make some pretty hard and maybe even wrong decisions lately. So I mean this from my heart—with all the love—please tell her to buzz off.”
I stood.
His eyebrows quirked up, and he leaned in and placed the teacup carefully on the wooden cutting board next to the teapot.
“She is concerned you haven’t seen Ryder Bailey on an adequately regular basis. Is this true?”
“That’s really not your concern. Or hers.”
He refilled his cup and reclined with an aggressively patient look.
“I live with him. Of course I see him. I saw him just a few hours ago.”
“At your home?”
“At the grocery store.”
Than sipped tea and watched me.
Civilizations probably gave up and crumbled to dust under the weight of that stare.
