I sincerely hoped it was the former.
“I was starting to think y’all had changed your minds,” she said, hanging up on the horse’s ass. “Come on, I got us a table and ordered drinks. Jules,” she added over her shoulder, “I convinced them to make you actual sweet tea this time.”
“You’re the best sister ever.”
The table was tucked away in a corner, dim even in the middle of a cloudless summer day. Trestle-style with attached benches, it meant we had to perform complicated contortions in order to be seated. “You’d think a restaurant so hot to trot about being all classy and expensive would spring for tables that didn’t require me to straddle a bench in a skirt.” CeCe flung herself sideways at the far end of the booth, dragging her voluminous purse in her wake. Julian and I managed only slightly better, wincing and wobbling our way down the narrow bench across from her. The waitress arrived with our drinks as soon as we stopped wiggling and struggling to sit comfortably.
“Oh thank god,” Julian groaned after the first sip of his tea. “Regular sweet tea. Not a trace of whiskey or whatever the hell was going on with that other glass.”
CeCe saluted him with her martini. “Things are always more of a pain in the ass when Jacob is involved.” She took a sip of her drink and waved off whatever she saw in our expressions. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m fine. And getting more-so each day. The marriage was great while it lasted, but I just refused to believe it ended back when I should’ve. Maybe if I had…” She closed her eyes, squeezing hard enough to make her fine crows’ feet deepen and her lips crimp into a deep curve of sorrow.
“You’d better not be blaming yourself for this,” Julian said, leaning to take his sister’s hand. “Jacob made his choices. You did nothing wrong. He didn’t kill Annie, but he helped hide what had happened. That is all on him, not you. No matter what he or anyone else may say.
Annie herself was nodding vigorously, sitting at the end of the bench on CeCe’s side. She shot me a wink and motioned for me to look away, pretend I didn’t see her. I hid a small smile in my fist, bowing my head in the hopes Julian and CeCe thought it was purely sadness and nothing else.
“I know,” she said, turning her hand over to give his a squeeze before reaching out to take mine as I went to pick up my drink. “And I wouldn’t blame either one of you if you wanted to tell me to fuck off with this plan. Jacob’s name is going to follow y’all like a bad smell, at least at first, if y’all decide to go through with it.”
Julian breathed out loud and slow through his nose. “Isn’t it a bit late for second thoughts? Ezra’s already in the Houston, dealing with the paperwork.”
“Did he call Harrison?” CeCe asked, leaning forward eagerly. “Tell me he called Harrison!”
“Do you mean,” I asked, unable to hide my own smile, “Harrison Temple, attorney at law?” I sighed theatrically and fluttered my hand by my face. “Mr. Temple, thank you so much for your help. I’d love to meet for drinks in Houston while I’m there!”
“He said that?” CeCe asked, bouncing a little in her seat. “Yes! I knew they’d hit it off!”
Julian looked between us, clutching his glass of tea like his life depended upon it. “What did I miss?”
“Nothing, favorite brother. Just me making Ezra happy the only way a woman can.”
“Low key matchmaking,” I murmured. “Don’t let on or Ezra will find a way to fuck it up royal.”
“… I have concerns.”
Our waitress returned, looking as blandly bored with us as possible. We ordered, Julian making a point to substitute extra green beans for cornbread. “Trust me,” he said. “Not only is it too dry, it does awful things to your digestion.”
I wasn’t sure but I think he said something about sparkly shit.
I really didn’t want to know.
“Now,” CeCe said as soon as the waitress sauntered towards the kitchen. “Let’s get the nitty gritty over with. Ezra’s getting the paperwork taken care of to make sure this is all your vision for the show.”
“Not just ours,” I reminded her. “You’re the producer.”
She bared her teeth in a feral grin. “Yes,” she purred. “My settlement has treated me well.”
Annie smiled beside her, biting her lip as she vanished from sight again. CeCe had made sure Annie had a beautiful headstone and gave her family a tremendous amount of money to establish a trust for Annie’s sisters as well as a scholarship fund in Annie’s name for journalism students at Sweet Briar College, Annie’s lama mater. Annie was CeCe’s number one fan-girl on either side of the veil and had taken to checking up on her new hero on the regular. I decided to hold on to that bit of news until CeCe was less excitable about the supernatural.
“The point is,” CeCe went on, “I’m just signing the checks. Y’all and Ezra are calling the shots. Harrison assured me he made that crystal clear in the contract.”
UnReality had been bending over backwards to meet our terms after the debacle of Jacob’s attempt at a show, but even they had limits. Limits Harrison Temple had been able to gently push back until we were comfortable with the terms. “We might be the one calling the shots but your name is on this, and we know you have a vested interest in making sure this succeeds.” He hesitated, looking a little sheepish and entirely in brother-mode when he muttered, “We’ll do you proud, Cec.”
She glanced away, doing her best I’m not crying, you are face. “Well. Let me show you what we have, then.” She rummaged in her enormous bag and pulled out a thick manila envelope. “These are all of the investigations Jacob had lined up for you. I’ve done some checking and had my minions follow up to make sure everything was on the up and up. We weeded out a few less than ideal choices, which I’ve set aside just in case y’all get to feeling daring during sweeps week or something, and this is what’s left.”
“Holy hell,” I murmured. “How many are there?” The envelope was heavy, the papers inside so densely packed I had no idea how she’d managed to get them all inside without damaging them, or how I’d get them out with tearing.
“Just twenty,” she said, waving one hand airily. The waitress returned with our starters, setting down bowls of okra and biscuits that were, for some reason, very shiny.
“Jesus,” Julian groaned. “Why?”
“We fancy,” CeCe singsonged, grabbing a biscuit and the small bowl of butter pats.. Julian shook his head, but popped a piece of okra in his mouth with a roll of his eyes and a smile for his sister. “So basically, at this point in the game, just pick one. Go over them together, at home, not now. Get Ezra involved. Pick where you want to start and let me know. I’ll get the ball rolling on permits and permissions and then…” she trailed off, her smile only a little forced. “Then we have a show.”
Hours later, after the sun had gone down and Julian’s apartment was nice and dark, we stretched out on the living room floor. We were both sweat-sticky and replete, having determined that, while he did have a magicae coles, it was the condoms that glowed in the dark after all. “Just for the record,” he said, “I held out way longer than two minutes.”
“We’ll have to agree to disagree,” I teased.
“I call for a rematch.”
“Give me an hour. I’m not as young as I used to be,” I groaned, rolling onto one elbow. “Oh, wait. We’d better reschedule for tomorrow. I understand men your age require a longer refractory period.”
“Ass.”
“Please.”
He reached out with one foot to poke my knee. “You love it, the whole older man thing. Just wait till I go gray. You can tell everyone you’ve got a silver fox at home.” He fell quiet, realizing belatedly what he’d implied—that we’d be together for a long while. “Um, so…”
I reached out and tweaked his nipple. “We should get in bed,” I murmured. “Ezra’s back tomorrow and god knows we’ll need a few hours sleep to deal with him now that he’s discovered those energy drinks.”
Julian smiled and helped m
e to my feet, pulling me in for a sloppy, deep kiss that nearly took us back to the floor again. He walked backwards, reluctant to break the embrace as I was, and led us to his room Our room? I wasn’t sure, really, though he had insisted I stay with him.
Well. We stay with him. Ezra’s things were stacked neatly in a corner of the living room, the fold out sofa ready for his return. Julian and I had gone to bed together the first night away from Bettina and decided without discussion to keep on sharing the bed every night. Ezra had teased me about moving fast and having a kink for snarky professors thanks to my time in public schools back home, but I hadn’t missed the tinge of want in his eyes whenever he looked our way. Not that he wanted me, not any more, just… Wanted. I turned my thoughts away from Ezra as Julian pulled me down into the bed. “We should shower,” I mumbled against his throat.
“Should we? Really?” He wrapped my fingers around my half-hard cock and gave a gentle squeeze.
“Eh, it can wait.” I let him pull me on top as he rolled onto his back, my unintentional shiver drawing a frown to his face. “Sorry,” I said quietly. “Cold.”
“The a/c is always screwy in this place,” he said, hands moving down to my ass.
It was barely audible, but it was there. A soft snort of annoyance. I glanced aside and saw the faintest outline of a figure just visible in the hallway, shaking it’s head. “Yeah,” I agreed, closing my eyes and pretending I didn’t see a thing. “The a/c is weird.”
Upcoming
Witching Hour
Medium at Large Book 2
Coming December 2019
ABOUT THE AUTHOR...
Meredith is a native Texan now living elsewhere. They’ve honestly tried to write non-paranormal, non-urban fantasy romance before but, before you know it, someone has magical powers or turns into a werewolf or is secretly a mermaid or… Well. They found their writing niche and went with it. Meredith likes to write about spooky stuff, kissing, and sometimes spooky stuff kissing.
You can follow Meredith online at:
www.facebook.com/meredithspiesauthor
www.facebook.com/groups/meredithsreadingranch (We’re bookaroos. It’s great.)
www.twitter.com/MeredithSpies
www.pillowfort.io/meredith_spies
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