for an invitation.
“John David,” I said. “Do you have an operable kitchen?” He nodded mutely. “Good. Monday we’ll all close up and go to John David’s house for lunch. Olivia will cook. Everybody’s invited except for Keir.” I looked to him. “I guess somebody needs to ‘guard’ the village?”
Keir’s scowl told me that he was either angry about being left out, or disappointed about being left out, or unhappy with the attention John David was getting from me. “Why don’t we just have Esmerelda ward the village?”
“Well,” I said, “I didn’t know that was an option. I thought Esmerelda was a weaver.” I heard hushed murmurs and tittering laughter. “And part-time soothsayer? But whatever. Sounds good to me. Esmerelda?” I looked at Esmerelda with a question on my face. She nodded. “Good then. Monday twelve o’clock at John David’s house for lunch and a tour.”
I tried to get him to agree verbally, but the vampire still looked shell-shocked. He nodded.
Good enough.
“Romeo can carry three besides me.”
When attention returned to donuts and watching the spinning wheels on my tea kettle, I pulled at Keir’s sleeve. “I may need help getting my statue inside. It looks heavy.”
“I’ll get it,” Keir said. “Where do you want it?”
“I don’t know. What do you think?” I turned a wicked smile his way. “Maybe your room?”
“Ha! No. There’s only one place for the god of love.” He wiggled his eyebrows with a comical leer.
I chuckled and gestured toward the master. “You know the way.”
Keir set the Eros statue near the fireplace and gave it a quarter turn so that the angle was just right. And I’ll be damned if it didn’t finish the room and add something I hadn’t known was missing.
“Holy cow, Keir. You could’ve been a decorator.”
He admired the placement of the statue with me. “Add it to the very long list of things I do extraordinarily well.” His hand was slowly creeping from my waist to my derrière. I caught it before it reached its destination. We weren’t alone and I was very straight-laced when it comes to public displays of pleasure. He was unfazed. “You think I should consider a career transition?”
My head jerked to see if he was serious. “Is that an option?”
He laughed. “No. Not at all. I was created for the job. Not the other way around.”
When I reemerged from the bedroom, I saw John David heading out the front. I rushed over.“Hold on. Are you trying to escape without saying goodbye?”
“Things to do,” he said. “I need to get my man to undrape furniture, open curtains, clean the corners. Polish up a bit. We have only three days.”
It would’ve been impossible to miss the underlying anticipation.
“I hope it wasn’t too presumptuous for me to throw a luncheon at your house. Everybody seems excited about being invited. Me included.”
“It will be ready.” His expression didn’t match his words. He looked a little worried.
“I have no doubt. Olivia will come around nine thirty?” He nodded again. “Do you have enough place settings or should Olivia bring some?”
He laughed again sending the message that my question was ridiculous. It was the second time I’d experienced vampire joy and it confirmed that John David’s mirth is a spectacular event. Not to be missed.
“Yes,” he said. “I counted thirteen. There’s plenty.”
“When was the last time you entertained?”
The answer was a gleam in his eyes as he said, “Long ago.”
“I’m sure it’s like riding a bicycle.”
He looked confused. “How is it like riding a bicycle?”
“Um. It means you don’t forget how?” He blinked. “Okay then. See you Monday.”
Without further adieu, John David was gone.
Keir, who’d been observing this exchange, weighed in. “What are you doing?”
“Helping out. What are you doing?”
He smiled. “So, you’re including the vampire in your social registry, but not Aoumiel.”
Without hesitation, I said, “I don’t like her.”
“I think everybody grasps that.”
“And I suspect I’m not the only one. I noticed that no one suggested Aoumiel ‘ward’ the village on Monday. She’s supposed to be the witch. Esmerelda is supposed to be the weaver.”
With an abrupt change of subject, he said, “The donuts were good. I especially liked the ones that tasted kind of like gingerbread.”
“Why aren’t you asking why Thomasin Cobb wasn’t invited? I’ll tell you. Because you already know the answer. Nobody likes him and it’s his own fault.” I narrowed my eyes. “Are you going to bat for Auomiel? With me?” I frowned. “Do you understand baseball metaphors?”
“Have you seen the wall of sports monitors in my room?”
“Right. Silly