by Holley Trent
She rarely was.
“Is Lanie there?” she asked with impatience.
Blue didn’t respond.
“I guess that means yes.”
Typical. My own brother selling me out.
“She’s working,” he said finally. “I let her use my office.”
“Why can’t she use her hotel room for that?”
Again, Blue didn’t respond.
Diana gritted her teeth and tightened her grip on the steering wheel. “Let me know when she’s gone.”
“If you want.” Blue disconnected.
His words may have been conceding, but his tone was laced with their typical taint of brotherly I do what I want machismo.
Apparently, Diana wouldn’t be able to call on Blue to be her shield. It was ridiculous that she’d even need him to be. She was an adult. She could handle her own problems and send Lanie away, once and for all.
Diana nodded until she could believe that.
Her neck hurt.
*
Diana’s pale eyes went wide when she looked up from her key ring and spotted Lanie leaning against the door of her walk-up.
Lanie glanced at her watch. 1:57. Somehow, she managed to suppress her shimmy of triumph for making such an accurate guess about the Coyotes’ completion time.
Diana looked tired with those dark smudges under her eyes, and her lounge-chic attire of fitted black track pants and designer T-shirt were streaked with unidentifiable substances.
She looked wonderful.
“I know.” Lanie put up her hands. “You’re going to ask me why I’m here. I’ll save you the breath. We’re going to have lunch. I’m reasonably certain you haven’t eaten.”
“I don’t need to be managed.”
My ass, you don’t.
Regardless, Diana should have known better than anyone that wasn’t what Lanie was doing. She hadn’t shown her that sort of intensity.
Yet.
At times, she wondered if she should treat the Coyote the way she used to treat all the men in her Army unit who couldn’t get their shit together, but in the end, she always trusted that Diana had the capacity and the executive functioning skills to discover what she needed without influence. Sometimes, she just needed a little motivation to get things done.
“What’s good to eat around here at this time of day?” Lanie asked.
Diana shifted her weight and fidgeted with her keys. “I thought you were at Blue’s.”
“I was. Now I’m here.” She was there looking at Diana and watching her squirm. Lanie found it amusing that Diana could walk into the middle of a biker brawl without breaking a sweat, but the moment Lanie arrived and asked her if she’d eaten, she came apart at the seams.
“Uh.” Diana squeezed her eyes shut and tapped a key against the door. “Normally, I’d suggest my friend Tiny’s taco truck, but he has it at the repair shop.”
“Well, that’s a shame. I’ve heard so many people talking about it.”
“Yeah, Tiny and his mom have become local celebrities.” Diana got on with the business of unlocking the door. The thick, green wooden slab was heavy on its hinges. She had to lift it to swing it open and reveal the staircase leading up to the second floor. “You may as well come in for a minute.”
And then you need to go seemed to be the implied statement at the end of that. Lanie smiled anyway and passed Diana to climb the stairs.
“Did you buy this place?” Lanie asked as she mounted the landing. The stairwell was dark and narrow. There was barely enough room for Diana to squeeze past her to unlock the second door at the top.
Standing in such close proximity, the urge for Lanie to touch the places that had once belonged to her was intense and mocking, but Lanie kept her hands to herself. Diana was already out of her comfort zone. Lanie’s plan hadn’t been to show up in Maria and make the woman feel caged. She wanted the opposite, actually. She wanted to free Diana from the fruitless mindset she’d been embracing as of late.
“Home sweet home,” Diana announced. She flicked the apartment light on and gestured for Lanie to enter. “And no, I haven’t decided to buy yet. I both hate it and love it.”
“Oh?” Lanie didn’t know what to expect as she crossed the threshold. She hadn’t been able to make any inferences from the street, except that the interior would probably be reflective of the building’s 1817-built exterior.
And it was. The converted space still had the original exposed beam ceilings and wide-plank floors. There weren’t any partition walls, except the one at the back that probably hid the bathroom and closet.
The rest was a huge, open space that still seemed to be in the process of being moved into.
Diana cleared her throat and quickly hid the evidence of consumed snack cakes from the coffee table. She stuffed the wrappers into her pocket and gave Lanie a sidelong look. “I’m renting. I have the option to buy the unit, but as I said, I haven’t decided yet.”
“It’s…massive,” was all Lanie could say. Massive would have been a good thing if not for the lack of walls. Lanie happened to think walls served a useful purpose.
“I know what you’re thinking.” Diana bent to untie her sneakers. “Not enough structure for you.”
Lanie laughed. “I might have been thinking something along those lines, yes.”
“I could add walls if I wanted to.” Diana walked toward the windows. Stopped. Turned on her heel. Returned to the shoes, picked them up, and blushed red as a beet as she carried them to the basket by the door.
Lanie raised a brow as Diana shuffled away.
Opening one of the windows facing the street, Diana said, “When I was looking for someplace to live in Maria, there wasn’t much open real estate that would suit solo living. My friend Noelle found me this place the morning the truck showed up with all of my shit from Sparks. The owner is allowing me to build to suit.”
“Well, that sounds promising.” Diana choosing that unit seemed like forward thinking, actually, but Lanie had learned the hard way to couch her compliments to Diana into more benign statements. For whatever reason, Diana was sensitive about her designs for the future.
Diana waved at someone down on the street and turned. She wasn’t quite looking at Lanie, but in her general vicinity.
Not nearly close enough, but Lanie wasn’t going to quibble.
Yet.
“Yeah. There’s potential.” Diana’s scoff came out sounding half-hearted. “So much depends on how long my neighbors downstairs decide to occupy that space.”
“The bike shop?”
Lanie had wandered around the block while waiting for Diana and had gone into the bike shop on a whim. They had a surprisingly extensive selection of bike frames and wheels, and some accessories Lanie had never even heard of before. She’d bought a new reflective jacket, since she was in there. The markup was rapacious, but that was the cost of patronizing businesses in small towns.
“Don’t get me wrong.” Diana leaned her rear end against the windowsill and folded her arms over her chest. “During the day, they’re great. They do a lot of out-of-town advertising to draw tourists here to use our trails and such. I appreciate any efforts people devote to promoting outdoor activity. Their nighttime endeavors are what drive me nuts.”
“Oh? What do they do?”
“They have these Bikes and Brews nights, or whatever they call them. Every damned Tuesday and Friday. Local bands. Lots of drinking. People lingering in the courtyard behind the building until after midnight.”
“Not your scene, huh?”
“In recent years, I’ve come to appreciate the necessity of a good night’s sleep. I’ll put it that way.”
“Ha! You used to mock me for being a ‘Get off my lawn’ type.”
Diana sniffed and straightened up. “Well. We’ve all got to grow up sometime, hmm?”
There didn’t seem to be any blame or castigation in Diana’s tone, or even resignation. The statement was a simple fact to her, apparently, and she’d t
aken a neutral position regarding the truth. Lanie wouldn’t have expected that from the woman who’d crashed a dull grad student reception for shits and giggles.
“Guess so,” Lanie demurred. “Are the events downstairs meant to be permanent?”
“I asked. The store’s owners gave me some cryptic, new age, crunchy hipster line of bullshit about ‘seeing what happens.’ I was about two seconds away from baring my fangs at him. The only reason I didn’t was because Willa happened to be with me at that moment, and she was doing that behave-yourself squeeze on my arm.”
“Sounds like your sister-in-law has already learned your tricks.”
Diana shrugged. “She’s intuitive, I guess.”
“I hope I can meet Maria’s favorite demigoddess soon. She wasn’t at the house when I was there.”
Diana raised her brows noncommittally and moved toward the door at the back of the unit. At the sound of the knock, seemingly from the door at street level, she stopped.
“Expecting someone?” Lanie asked.
“Yeah. Just that quickly, I forgot. I was distracted for some reason.”
Lanie wasn’t going to take the bait.
“Hold on a sec.” She hurried back to the window and hung out of it. “Hey, boys. Door’s unlocked. Bring those trunks up.”
“Okay, Deedee,” boomed a male voice.
Diana got the upper door opened and stood there holding the knob as men grunted, swore, and stomped up the stairs.
The two rough-dried creatures Lanie had seen at the estate sale lumbered into the apartment with the first trunk.
“Set it down over by the window, off the rug,” Diana told them. “I’ll de-fang you if you get mud on my rug. My mother had that thing special-ordered.”
The Coyotes got the first trunk into position and quickly returned with the other.
She handed them each a wad of cash. “Don’t tell anyone where you got that. I don’t want to issue tax documents to you next year.”
“I’mma pretend I never even seen it,” one man said. He stuffed the bulge of paper money into one of the tight front pockets of his jeans, which was an unfortunate choice in Lanie’s opinion. Everyone he passed was going to be doing double takes until he took that cash out. He didn’t seem to care.
Lanie stopped herself from giving her head a matronly shake.
“You want us to drop the truck off at the rental place for you?” the other guy asked.
“Will you?” Diana rooted another twenty-dollar bill out of her wallet. “You can just put the keys in the drop box. No need to go inside the agency.”
Jeans Guy snatched the money before his buddy could. “Let us know if you need anything else.”
“Call me first if you need anything,” the second Coyote said. “I’m stronger ’an him, and my back’s not busted.”
Jeans Guy rolled his eyes and pushed his buddy toward the door. “Bye, Deedee.”
Diana massaged her temples and muttered something incomprehensible under her breath.
Lanie’s immediate instinct was to troubleshoot—to identify the cause of frustration, and then fix it for her—but she suspected Diana wouldn’t welcome the intrusion into her space just yet. Instead, she asked, “What’s wrong?”
Diana dropped her hands from her face, sighed, and headed toward the back of apartment again. “Nothing. Just Coyote energy. When males are in competition with each other, the hormones crank up a lot. Less powerful shifters don’t know how to control their energy output, and may not even be aware that what little magic they have is flaring. Makes my head ache. I’m better now, though.”
“Oh.” Lanie was surprised Diana had even said that much. She usually kept the Coyote aspects of her life securely tied down, or tried to obscure them from Lanie. Lanie didn’t understand why she did that. Whatever Diana wouldn’t tell her, Blue would. It seemed self-defeating that Diana wouldn’t just tell her.
Lanie perched on the arm of the sofa and leaned forward to sift through the pile of magazines atop the otherwise minimalist coffee table. Design and organization journals, mostly.
“Give me ten minutes,” Diana called out right as water began to patter against the floor of the shower.
Lanie pressed her lips tightly together to suppress her retort as the bathroom door closed.
She’d quit her beloved coffee habit for good if Diana managed to get out of the shower in less than twenty minutes. It tended her take her five to get the water temperature exactly the way she liked it.
“A-ha.” Lanie laughed quietly as she reached the bottom of the magazine pile. Diana never expected anyone to dig down that far.
Lanie sat back with the copy of volume three of the Saga comic book series and was nearly done reading it when Diana emerged. She was fresh-faced—almost unrecognizable without her signature black eyeliner and bright lips. Her hair was still slightly wet and clung to the back of her terrycloth romper.
As Diana rooted through a drawer in the kitchen, Lanie furrowed her brow and returned the comic to its hiding place.
The romper—as sexy as Diana was in it with those tanned legs and her pert backside—disconcerted her. That wasn’t the robe Lanie remembered. Diana’s robe was a long, ill-fitted, ragged thing that had holes at the elbows and a missing belt. She’d always said that familiar things made her feel safe, and that robe was among her most treasured vices.
So where is it?
For that matter, where were any of the comfort items Diana had amassed during their relationship? Where was the tattered, striped throw pillow that leaked feathers? The small, framed fairytale print she’d kept mounted near the front door at every place she rented? The pathetic snake plant that barely thrived but wouldn’t die, even when Diana neglected to water it for weeks on end?
Did she not need those things anymore, or had she told herself that she’d moved on?
Because if she’d decided she didn’t need those, maybe she’d meant it when she said she didn’t need Lanie, either.
If that was Diana’s idea of “growing up,” Lanie didn’t like it.
CHAPTER FOUR
Diana rooted through the kitchen junk drawer she hadn’t cleaned out once since moving into the apartment. She was relatively certain she’d tossed a few take-out menus in there when she’d been sorting mail. She’d always been slow to throw things away.
“Just give me a sec,” she called back to Lanie. “We can get food delivered. In a town this small, there aren’t so many options, but…”
Lanie didn’t interrupt as expected, so Diana stopped talking. Her plan hadn’t gone according to spec.
Normally, Lanie would interject that it was fine, and that Diana should get what she wanted, and that she should take her time. She had a knack for predicting the sources of Diana’s stress and eliminating them, but she didn’t say anything.
Warily, Diana turned to look at her.
Lanie was seated on the arm of Diana’s sofa, arms crossed, looking at her with undisguised curiosity.
Diana gulped. “What is it?”
“What happened to your robe?”
“My…robe?” Diana’s brain scrambled to grasp the elusive connection. She didn’t know what her robe had to do with anything. Maybe one day, she’d again be able to think clearly when Lanie was in the same room with her. That day didn’t seem to be imminent.
“Yes, Diana. Your robe. You remember? It was mint green and had some holes.”
“Oh.”
The robe.
The mere thought of that old, ratty thing made Diana’s pulse kick up a few notches. She turned back to the drawer before Lanie could see the heat creep up Diana’s face or her eyes go glassy over stupid shit.
It was just a robe, but Diana had more or less lived in that thing for years. It’d been familiar and comfortable, and it was one of the first things she’d ever bought with her own money. She wanted it back, but it was gone for good. No one could make a wish strong enough to change that.
She found the deli menu and snatc
hed up her phone to call in an order. She needed the distraction. Without further consultation from Lanie, she put in an order for a couple of subs and some sides. She figured getting delivery would be wiser than leaving and airing out her and Lanie’s dirty laundry in public. Lately, she couldn’t predict how heated a conversation with Lanie could get. Things hadn’t been like that until after Diana had broken up with her.
In fact, before the breakup, everything had been perfect.
Everything except for Diana, anyway.
“I lost the robe during the move.” Diana swallowed to ease the tightness in her throat. “It—was in a box with some other things. I guess the movers thought the stuff was too close to the trash pile. They tossed it, and I was already here in Maria. I was going to fly out to Sparks and see if the stuff might still be in the dumpster behind the building, but Blue kept me here. Things were still pretty tense with our old Coyote pack in Sparks and he didn’t want me to risk getting abducted or something. Plus, he reminded me that the trash would have already been picked up by then. He counseled me against making an excursion to the landfill. Too reckless to go out there for a fucking bathrobe.” Of course, the idea sounded silly now. She still wanted the robe, though. Maybe she would never stop obsessing over it.
“I’m sorry.”
Diana shrugged. She didn’t have any words.
Lanie padded over, smoothing down her flat-front slacks as she moved with her usual straight-backed authority.
Once upon a time, Diana had teasingly sprung to attention and saluted whenever Lanie did that. Lanie had thought that was funny, but she had loosened up a bit. At least, around Diana.