“I saidhi,” I muttered.
Victoria sniffed. “She greeted her with a “Hey, Mrs. A!” and a wave.”
Samuel’s lips twitched. I sighed.
I’d since learned that casual waves were not done in polite supernatural society. There was a hierarchy of nods and acknowledgments that I had completely bypassed in favor of behaving like a normal human being.
“She looked down,” I protested. “You know, like she needed cheering up.”
“She’s been undead for three hundred years,” Victoria said. “That’s just her face.”
Samuel hid behind his coffee cup again, his shoulders trembling.
I was debating whether to withhold sex tonight when Bernard glided into the dining room carrying a fresh pot of coffee.
The Hawthorne butler had been with the family for forty years and had perfected the art of pretending not to notice the daily chaos unfolding around him.
“More coffee, Miss Abigail?”
“Please.” I held up my cup gratefully. “And Bernard, you can just call me Abby.”
“As you wish, Miss Abigail.”
I’d been trying to get him to drop the formality for two weeks. It was a losing battle so far.
A noise drew my attention to the bay window, where the morning sun streamed through the glass. Pearl had claimed the prime sunbeam and was grooming herself with the smugness of a queen surveying her domain.
Bo sat three feet away, staring at her with the intensity of a dog who’d been robbed of his rightful napping spot.
“That’s my sunbeam,” he huffed.
Pearl delicately licked her paw. “I don’t see your name on it.”
“I was here first yesterday,” my dog argued.
“Yesterday is irrelevant. Today, I am here. Therefore, it is my sunbeam.” She fixed him with a superior stare. “Perhaps you should try the garden. I hear it’s lovely this time of year. Very outdoorsy.”
Bo’s ears flattened. “Are you saying I’m a peasant?”
“I would never be so crude.” Pearl examined her claws. “I merely suggested you might be more comfortable in your natural habitat.”
Bo stamped his feet. “I’ll show you natural habitat, you damn fur ball!”
“Bo,” I warned.
My dog whined and flopped down where he sat, still staring daggers at the cat. Pearl resumed her grooming while radiating one hundred percent satisfaction.
The honeymoon period was definitely over between those two.
“They’ll sort it out eventually,” Samuel reassured as he picked up on my consternation.
“Will they?” I asked skeptically.
“Probably.” Victoria turned a page of her newspaper. “Like they say, hope springs eternal.”
Great.
The sound of rapid footsteps thundereddown the main staircase. It was followed by a crash that made Bernard’s left eye twitch almost imperceptibly and had Samuel’s shoulders stiffening.
