Page 79 of Throwing Shade
“Definitely the vampires. They do love a good slideshow,” Nav said. “Show me.”
I pulled up one of the latest snaps. “That’s my Sadie.”
“Beautiful girl,” he said.
Laurent looked at the photo, grunted, and walked away. “One hour, Mitzi,” he called back, “then we ride.”
“How do you know Laurent?” I said, tossing wooden blocks into a Rubbermaid.
Nav threw the lid on the container. “We’ve worked together. The more interesting question is how do you? The Lone Wolf doesn’t randomly bring people over, Mitzi.”
“He’s helping me find a friend.” I gathered up a trail of colorful elastics, leading to a doll with hair styled to look like a unicorn. “Pretty.”
Evani held out her hand for the doll, dropping her bunny.
“Because charity is a virtue he holds dear.” Nav rolled his eyes at his niece’s prodding. “Do you need both of them?”
She nodded and, sighing, he picked up the stuffed animal.
“There’s a dybbuk involved,” I said, “so our interests align. Also, I’m paying him.”
“Uh-huh.” Nav pointed to the blanket draped over the sofa. “Feel free.”
“Thanks, but we’re only going to be here an hour.”
“Regardless.” He tickled Evani. “Say goodnight, monster.”
“Goodnight, monster.” She made her bunny wave at me.
Smiling, I waved back. Damn, I missed cuddling a warm sleeping Sadie at that age, her head buried in my neck and her silky strands tickling my cheek.
I curled up on Nav’s sofa, which was really comfortable, and undid my jeans with a deep sigh. My belly exploded out like an air bag. It was glorious. Next I took off my bra, tears of joy streaming down my face as I rubbed all the red lines on my body. Between the pants and the underwire, I looked like a slab of beef that had been marked into cuts for butchering.
The timer on my phone seemed to go off seconds later, not an hour. Yawning, I pushed through my fatigue and forced myself to open my eyes and sit up. It was just after 6AM and there was no way I’d be going in to work.
I had heaps of sick days, another perk, so I left a message for Shirley cashing one in. The stomach flu was a lie, but I didn’t fake how miserable I sounded. If I’d earned anything in my forty-two years, it was the right to a full night’s sleep, and I was running on fumes. I’d used more magic tonight than I had in decades and I’d come face to face with death. Putting in a full day of work was totally out of the question; still, the sheer relief I felt at not going in was odd for me.
Somewhat jokingly, I googled job openings in Spain, but without any knowledge of the language, I’d be stuck serving swill at some beach resort catering to English-speaking tourists. Visions of lobster-boiled, handsy old letches spun out before me, followed by the worse image of being the resident mom at a backpacker hangout and listening to tales of love lost and STIs gained during full-moon parties. Hard pass.
So my job wasn’t the most exciting? Lots of people found fulfillment with hobbies outside their work and I had my magic. Putting my bra reluctantly back on, I focused on our victory: we had the dybbuk’s location and could rescue Jude.
How naïve I was.
