Page 68 of Mourner for Hire
“Don’t be dense. I build birdhouses for fun.”
I cackle.
“Oh, fuck off,” he mutters, the vein in his neck bulging. He’s growing visibly irritated with me. “And all the furniture in the bar.”
“Oh,” I hum. While, yes, that’s impressive, it isn’t the same as renovating. “Well, good job. But I can’t guarantee it won’t take a couple of months.”
“Just don’t change it, okay?”
“Honey, you know that’s not entirely reasonable. Plus, I have to do this on top of ‘finding it.’ Whatever the hell that means. Give me a break. Five minutes ago, I was concerned you were poisoning me.”
He steps closer. “Oh, sweetheart, if I were going to get rid of you, I wouldn’t poison you. It’s way too obvious.”
I shake my head. “Don’t call me sweetheart.”
“Don’t call me honey.”
I pause, resting against the doorway. “How would you do it, then?”
I watch his Adam’s apple disappear in his throat. Then he freezes, his gaze dragging along the length of me. I think of how much he can’t stand me. I think of all the ways he could kill me. I think of all the ways I’d let him try.
He steps closer, running a finger under my chin. I don’t pull back.
“Sweetheart, you’ll never see it coming.” The smile he leaves me with draws heat straight to my core.
He turns to walk away, and I can’t help but smile at the foolery. He keeps hollering as he walks down the path.
“Get your shit done, Vada. Then get out of town.”
I roll my eyes and slam the door,totallyshaking in my boots.
Fucking asshole.Little does he know I have a whiteboard that says just that.
TWENTY-THREE
DOMINIC
“I can’t believeI did that,” I tell Eli, pouring him a stout from the draft and sliding it across the bar.
He stares at me pointedly. “Yes, you can,” he argues.
I toss a towel over my shoulder and lean back on the shelves of liquor.
“You don’t hate her as much as you want to.”
“Actually, I—” But my argument is swallowed up by the tight coil in my gut, telling me I don’t hate her.
He rolls his eyes and pops a jalapeño popper into his mouth. “Exactly. Which is why she is still written on the wall behind you.”
I glance at the chalkboard menu behind me then back at Eli. “That’s not her.”
He raises his eyebrows.
“It’s a popular name.”
He cocks an eyebrow. “Vada?”
“There’s also the Billie, the Carrie, and the Lucifer. Let’s be real, that’s probably the type of company she keeps on a regular basis.”
