Page 61 of You'll Be the Death of Me

“You can’t blame yourself for not noticing,” Cole tried to comfort. “And you said there were rumors, which suggests they were hiding it anyway.”

The fire behind her dry eyes was almost too much to take. Her dead heart was about to break. “Stop trying to make me feel better. I am self-centered and single-minded to the point I didn’t even notice two people I see every day are in love with each other—or that my fiancé was just using me! Apparently, I’ve taken a lot of wrong turns!”

“Dell—”

She sniffed hard, as if there were anything there to sniff from crying. “I really wish I could eat something right now. And cry.”

Cole still had his mouth open, ready to continue assuagingher guilt, but he closed it with a sad pout. He grew silent in thought for a moment. “How about this: I’ll let you break a rule if you’re quick about it.”

Dell shot her gaze up to meet his. “What rule? What do you mean?”

“Well, you said you want to eat something. There’s a dining room full of people out there, and I’m sure at least one of them is tipsy enough to allow you to pop in for a bite.”

Dell blinked at him with wide eyes. “You mean you’re giving mepermissionto possess someone? A stranger?”

A battle played out across his face. He wanted to give her anything she wanted, but at the same time, he was worried about the trouble doing so might cause. The little grin on his lips said the former won out. “Yes, I am saying that. But please be cautious. And gentle—”

His plea was hardly out of his mouth before Dell took off for the dining room.

Chapter 11

Dell passed into the kitchen, where prep was in even fuller swing. Pots were boiling, meats being seasoned and basted, vegetables chopped. She couldn’t wait to take a bite of something. To feel the warmth of food on her tongue, the pinch of citrus, the crunch of something crispy and fried. It might not fix her death problem, but it would at least make her feel better.

Cole was on her heels by the time she reached the dining room. It bubbled with chatter, clinking dishware, the occasional sound of a cork being popped at the bar. Jason stood at the host’s station, and Dell had an urge to run to him and give him an update, but she couldn’t very well do that without a body.

“See any candidates?” she asked Cole as she scanned the room.

“I can’t believe I am authorizing this...” Cole muttered, and helped her look.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be quick, as requested. I just want to sneak into the kitchen and shove some dinner in my mouth and maybe some cake. A bottle of wine doesn’t sound too bad either.”

Dell moved her eyes over all her guests: couples, friends, a fewfamilies, one large group in the corner with gift bags piling their table. Someone dining alone would be the safest bet, so there’d be no need to explain their absence. Remembering the intoxication rule, she also needed someone a few drinks deep to smooth the transition.

“Oh! Look at her,” Dell said, and pointed to a woman sitting at the bar. She was about Dell’s age with shoulder-length brunette hair and rosy cheeks. She wore a tailored black dress that hugged her chest and showed off the sparkling jewel hanging from the elegant chain around her neck. Based on the forced yet bored expression on her face and the way she was glancing at her phone while the man sitting next to her yammered on, their date was not going well.

“She’s on a bad date; she needs saving anyway,” Dell said, and began to approach.

“How can you tell?” Cole asked.

“Look how bored she is. She has checked her phone twice in the past thirty seconds, and she looks like she wants to poke his eyes out with the olive stick in her drink. I’ll be doing her a favor by borrowing her body for a few minutes,” Dell said. “And Riley, our bartender, makes strong drinks, so she’s a prime candidate.”

As if on cue, the woman pinched the speared olives out of her martini, ate one, and then downed the rest of her drink in one gulp.

“All right, but please be careful,” Cole said with a note of worry.

“Promise.” She smiled at him and hurried over to the woman’s barstool. Up close, Dell could hear the man yammering. The boredom pulsing off the woman was almost as pungent as her dark floral perfume.

“We’re eventually heading for an IPO, but the market isn’t ready yet. Our tech is so disruptive, no one has seen anything like it before,” the man said, and Dell instantly categorized him as a pretentious tech bro.

The woman agreed based on the disinterestedmm-hmmshe murmured before lifting her hand to signal Riley behind the bar. “Another, please?”

“Belay that order, Riley,” Dell muttered, and moved in closer. The woman sat halfway turned toward the bar, making it simple enough for Dell to more or less sit on her lap. When she passedintoher, Dell immediately felt the strain of surprise.

“God, this date is so bad, it’s making me physically ill,” a smoky voice said inside Dell’s head. “I am never letting Kendra set me up again. I wish I could just disappear without him noticing.”

“As you wish,” Dell muttered internally, and tried to take a little more control. The woman’s resistance easily melted away. At the same time, Dell felt her head begin to swim with alcohol. Not drunkenly, but more like pleasantly floating in a pool. Going for broke, Dell attempted to speak out loud.

“Will you please excuse me?” she said, cutting into whatever ego-stroking nonsense the tech bro was blathering.