Shifting her attention back to him, she asked, “And garlic?” The question was more teasing than serious.
“I personally love garlic,” he assured her. “Well, I would not eat it before a date, but otherwise . . .” He shrugged. “It does us no harm.” He pursed his lips and then added, “My brother Jean Claude loathed garlic, though, which may be where the whole garlic thing came from.”
Sherry glanced doubtfully at him, wondering how one man’s dislike of garlic could turn into the whole myth of garlic being detrimental to the health of vampires. But Basil merely shook his head, and muttered, “Long story.”
“You’ve mentioned your brother Jean Claude a couple of times. Does he live in Canada or the U.S.?”
“He lived in Canada at the end, but passed away some years back,” Basil answered.
“Oh.” She grimaced. “Sorry.”
Basil shrugged. “That is one of life’s drawbacks, death is a constant companion.”
“Less so for your kind than mine,” she pointed out dryly.
“Perhaps I should have said loss is a constant companion to life,” he said solemnly. “For while I have lived a very long time, I have witnessed and grieved the loss of countless family members, friends, and acquaintances.”
“Wow, you’re really trying to sell this immortality business,” Sherry teased with amusement. The man was not making it attractive.
Basil grimaced. “Salesman is one career I never tried. I knew I would not be good at it.”
Sherry shrugged. “I’m not good with sales either.”
Basil laughed at that. “You own a store. Sales is your business.”
“That’s different. People come in looking for something and we help them find it. We don’t drag people in off the street and try to sell them something.”
“Ah,” he smiled. “Yes, I can see the difference.”
They were both silent for a minute, and then Sherry asked, “Do you like living in New York?”
Basil shrugged. “It is all right. But it would certainly be nice to see more trees and grass. That is probably the only thing I miss in New York. There are parks, of course, and I have a couple of potted trees on my terrace, but it is not the same as living somewhere like this.”
“No. That’s how I feel about living in an apartment in Toronto,” Sherry agreed.
Basil nodded. “On the other hand. I am usually working, so would not get to enjoy the trees much anyway.”
“Yeah,” Sherry agreed with a wry smile. “It’s the same with me. I seem always to be working as well. Not that I mind,” she added quickly. “It’s my dream. A labor of love, so . . .” She shrugged.
“But it leaves precious little time for a social life?” he suggested.
“Oh, I don’t mind that either,” she assured him, and he looked surprised.
“Really?” he asked. “No biological clock ticking? No pining for marriage and little ones?”
Sherry shook her head and then frowned. “I used to. When I was younger I often thought about finding a man I loved, marrying and settling down. But now I just want the store to be up and running and doing well.”
“You started it three years ago?” he asked.
Sherry nodded.
“Is it not self-sustaining by now? It usually takes about three years for a store to find its footing.”
“Yes,” she agreed.
“And yours has not?” he asked.
“Oh, yes. It did surprisingly well from the start, and since I paid for it outright and had no loans, we started turning a profit almost right away,” she admitted.