I did not add how wonderful it had been of Jerry to take out a VGO assassin while Robert and I were in Bali, thus saving our lives. This was need-to-know information, and Joseph certainly did not need to know this. He’d probably been the one who’d deployed the assassin in the first place.
Joseph asked, “How do you know Jerome? Or is it Jerry?”
“It’s both. Jerry to his friends, but he goes by Jerome also.”
“Ah.”
I explained that I used to work as a vampire decoy at Dignitary, and that Jerry and I had formed an immediate bond during our outing to an art show. We had the same weird sense of humor, I said.
My heart sank when Joseph asked, “Shouldn’t I expect to see both you and Robert at the wedding?”
The whole creating a cover story thing on the spot was really starting to be a thorn in my side. I could commiserate with Liz’s ex David; it did totally suck. I’d never been a good liar. I was more of a lie by omission kind of girl, which was obviously not going to work in this situation, when he’d asked me a direct question. A vampire didn’t live to be Joseph’s age by being oblivious.
I tried to sound nonchalant as I answered, “Um, no, he’s just . . . not going with me.”
Then, something horrible occurred to me.WouldRobert have the balls to show his face at the wedding with Serena on his arm? If he did, it would literally kill me. I would look at the two of them, and my heart would stop beating. Or I’d simply die of humiliation. Boom, just like that, no more Olivia Taylor.
Or I would killthem.
Joseph scratched the bridge of his strong nose. “Why is that?” I nearly yelped when his cool fingertips tapped my left hand. “And, while we’re on the subject, why aren’t you wearing an engagement ring?”
All very valid questions. A trifle personal, but valid. Hehadjust stuck a needle in my arm, so maybe he felt we were cool like that.
The strange thing was, though Joseph was technically “the enemy” because of his affiliation with the VGO, I was charmedby him. This wasn’t purely because he was sexy as hell, though that didn’t hurt. There was something about the vamp that brought me an odd sort of comfort. If he were human, I thought, I’d love to go out with him for beers and pizza. I could easily see myself hanging out with him for hours, chatting.
“The truth is . . .”
My brain was screaming.Don’t you dare say it! If you know what’s good for you, you will not get personal with this vampire! He’s VGO!
I swallowed.
“I’m not asking you to explain the meaning of life, Olivia,” he teased.
I laughed hollowly. Stalling. Off the top of my head, I thought of three excuses I could give about the wedding.
One: Robert will be out of town.
Two: Robert doesn’t like Jerry’s soon-to-be husband.
Three: Robert needs to work.
None of them sounded particularly convincing, and they all could be easily disproved, especially if Robert did appear with Serena at the reception. I could always tell Joseph to mind his own damn business, I supposed, though I would absolutely phrase it differently. However, the way his earnest, chocolatey eyes were taking me in compelled me to spare him bullshit.
Before I had a chance to firmly clamp my teeth down on my tongue, I was telling the vamp, “Actually, Robert and I are sort of taking a break right now. From each other.”
Startled, he looked around the room. “But you’re still living here?”
“It’s weird. I get that. It’s very fresh.” As in last night kind of fresh. A loaf of bread would have taken longer to mold.
It took all that I had not to ask Joseph if he’d heard any gossip about Robert and Serena—or if he’d known, or even suspected, that the two of them had been fooling around behindmy back. I wanted the information so desperately it was almost painful to stay quiet, but to ask such questions would have made me look pitiful. Joseph would have probably laughed at my presumptuousness, too, since humans did not get to quiz VGO leaders about their members.
I steeled myself for a barrage of meddlesome questions I was certain Joseph was going to ask the way a human would. People can be so nosey when it comes to the breakups of others. Far as I’m concerned, unless a person’s name is prefixed with “my best friend,” they should keep their questions to themselves.
He startled me by asking, “Would you like to be my date for the wedding?”
I was sure it wasn’t the most attractive look, the way my mouth dropped open.
He held up a hand. “Before you answer, I don’t mean ‘date’ in the traditional sense. I only mean that it would be practical if you and I went together. Think of it like one of your Dignitary outings.”
