my ticket to rent-free living."
And with that, he turned invisible, hiding his signature as well.
"Coward!" I cried. My only answer was the front door opening and then shutting. He was lost to me, and I realized I'd again missed my chance to bring up my weird encounters from these last couple days.
I tossed and turned again that night, but it had nothing to do with my fear of walking off the balcony or into Puget Sound. I was filled with rage, both at Simone for making the moves on Seth and at Roman for abandoning me. When I woke up in the morning, I took comfort in knowing I didn't need Roman to confront Simone. I could do that on my own.
Of course, there were a few complications there, the first being I didn't know where Simone was. Her hotel was probably the logical place to start, though most succubi - even a bland one like her - wouldn't spend a lot of time hanging out there. Well, unless she had company - and I didn't really want to walk into anything like that. And anyway, I had one tiny commitment to attend to before I could go bitch-hunting.
Maddie.
I'd regretted my decision to go shopping with her the moment the words had left my mouth. Yet, somehow, I'd totally blocked out those feelings yesterday when I'd been sitting with Seth. A brief thought about the wedding had flitted through my mind...and then it had been gone. I'd spent the rest of the time laughing and talking with him as though there was no Maddie in the world. But as I headed over to the bookstore, where she and I had agreed to meet, I had to accept reality once more. Seth was no longer mine.
He also wasn't Simone's. But I'd deal with that later.
Maddie was waiting for me downstairs, but I used the excuse of needing coffee before we left, in order to dash up to the café. I wanted to see if Simone was lurking. No matter her shape, I'd know if she was there. Yet, as I casually waited in line for my white chocolate mocha, I sensed nothing immortal. Seth was there, engrossed in his work, and never even saw me. Apparently, his muse was still going strong.
I let him be and joined Maddie downstairs again. She had a list of eight store names and addresses. Most were dress shops, and I was skeptical that we could make them all before we were due into work. She was more optimistic, but then, that was typical of her.
"No point in worrying right now," she said. "We'll just do them one at a time and see where that gets us. Besides, the last few are bakeries, and we wouldn't want to eat a bunch of cake before trying on dresses."
"Speak for yourself," I said, sliding into her passenger seat. "I'm not trying anything on."
She gave me a wry smile. "Aren't you? You're my bridesmaid, remember? We talked about it at the party."
"No," I said swiftly. "I said and did all sorts of crazy stuff that night, but I never agreed to it. That I do remember."
Maddie's expression was still light, but I thought I heard a little hurt in her voice when she spoke next. "What's the big deal? Why don't you want to be one? You know I'd never dress you in anything horrible."
Why? I pondered the answer as she pulled into traffic. Because I'm in love with your future husband. I could hardly tell her that, of course. As it was, I could see my continuing silence was making her feel worse. She was reading it as a slight to our friendship.
"I just...I just don't like all the, uh, fanfare that goes with weddings. There's so much planning and stressing about little details. I'd rather just sit back in the audience and watch you go down the aisle." Well, actually, that was one of the last things I wanted to do.
"Really?" Maddie frowned, but thankfully, it was more out of surprise than disappointment. "You're always so good at planning and little details. I thought you were into that."
That was a fair point. It was why I made such a good manager. "Yeah, kind of...but I mean, at the receptions, drunk guys always hit on the bridesmaids, you know? They think we're desperate because we're the ones not getting married." Also not entirely far from the truth in my case.
Maddie's smile returned. "Those are some pretty lame excuses."
They