Page 72 of Let Me Win You

“I have a job, baby,” I said patiently. “It takes me away from you occasionally, but I couldn’t possibly quit everything and just breeze through life as a mortal sin’s girlfriend.”

“Why not? You absolutely could. There is literally no reason for you to work other than that you enjoy it.”

“But it is a very good reason, isn’t it?”

“Whatever brings you joy, dearest.” He kissed me. “Are you ready to leave this world now?”

I smiled at the way he put it. From anyone else, it would almost sound like a threat. When Invi said it, he merely invited me back to his hometown.

“Let me just put the car keys in the house, get rid of this winter jacket, and lock the front door,” I said. “Then, I’m all yours?—”

Holding out the car keys, I stopped in my tracks, my mouth still hanging open with the last word I said. A large green dragonfly descended on my wrist out of nowhere. Its delicate wings shimmered with iridescence like faucets of a prism.

It was December, with a thin but solid layer of snow already covering the ground. Thick icicles had formed in the corners of the roof of my old house, and any body of water for miles around must be frozen by now.

Yet there it was, a fragile dragonfly sat on my wrist in the dead of winter.

“Invi?” I whispered, not taking my eyes from the marvelous insect. “Could it be? Is it…really from dad?”

“What do you think, sweetheart? How do you feel?”

Animals didn’t need a Higher Judgment. They weren’t assigned to any one world. Instead, they traveled freely between the worlds, like Invi’s duck did when he came from Purgatory with me the morning before the final round of the cake decorating challenge, then returned to Invi’s creek with the horologe around his neck.

What I thought? I thought it was absolutely possible for the dragonfly to come see me as a greeting from my dad who was no longer with me.

And what I felt?

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, freeing my mind from as many thoughts as I could to give place to feelings instead.

“I feel love, Invi,” I said softly. “So, so much love. And peace…” I opened my eyes and smiled. “Love is truly immortal, isn’t it?”

Invi

“So, what kind of cakes do you have to make this time?” I asked, lying on my side on the second level of my house in Purgatory.

“Both are wedding cakes,” Nic said, licking her spoon.

A warm breeze played with her thick auburn curls, with one falling over her forehead. She sat on the very edge with her feet dangling over the green lawn below and held a crystal cup ofyogurt in her hand. I had my tail wrapped around her waist, just in case. Not that she would leap off the second floor, but it made me feel better that I could catch her if she fell.

Tree canopies broke the afternoon sunlight into a myriad of dancing spotlights that bounced over the grass and the white calla lilies. The ducks dozed in the creek, floating lazily in the water. White-and-green butterflies fluttered around. This was my home, with everything being comforting and familiar. And with Nicole here, it was absolutely perfect.

“Both couples requested floral designs,” she said between spoonfuls of yogurt. “But they couldn’t be more different. One bride wants field flowers—sweet, early-spring vibes, pastels, with just one tier. The other couple ordered a giant seven-tier one, with a gothic theme, and I’m really excited about making it.”

“What kind of flowers are you thinking about?”

“Withered white roses and…” she glanced at me mischievously with her spoon in her mouth, “black calla lilies.”

“Will there be a spot for a zombie duck?”

She dropped her spoon into the cup and laughed, which was exactly why I mentioned the zombie duck. She always laughed when I brought it up, and I loved the sound of her laughter so much, I wished I could bottle it to keep and listen to it on those rare occasions when she wasn’t with me.

“You know what? Maybe I could fit a zombie duck on this one?” she mused. “Or maybe at least some feathers? We can make them from colored pulled sugar. You know those green feathers with the iridescent sheen that male ducks have on their heads? I’ll try to recreate the colors by experimenting with different ingredients. Want to help?”

“I would love to, very much. I got some pearly food coloring from Gul. It may work.”

A wrinkle formed between her eyebrows as she cleared the bowl with her spoon, gathering the last remnants of her blueberry yogurt.

“How is Gul doing?” she asked somberly.