Page 47 of Ruled By Fate

A waitress appeared, and Sherry ordered their first course. The others busied themselves with their menus, searching for anything that looked familiar in a sea of foreign words. At least, everyone except Mike, who was still studying Cameron’s face and not making much effort to hide it.

“Were you writing a book?”

Cameron glanced up, looking slightly caught off guard. “Excuse me?”

“About human attitudes toward thanatological care,” Mike clarified. “Was it some private study for a healthcare company? Or were you writing a book? Because that just means, how people feel about those who care for the dying, right?”

Brie looked at him, surprised.

Beauty and brains, indeed.

As inconvenient as it was currently making her life, she had to hand it to Sherry. The girl had wonderfully discerning taste and seemed to have found a kindred soul. Mike was sharp as a tack.

And impossible to deter.

Cameron held his gaze for only a moment. “You could call it a private contract. I’m not at liberty to discuss the details. But I have considered writing a book about my findings one day.”

Sherry looked back and forth between the men before scolding, “Mike, you promised.”

He blinked quickly, roused by the sound of her voice. “You’re right. I’m sorry, babe.” He turned to Cameron, flashing an apologetic grin. “I have a bad habit of taking work home with me.”

“No problem,” Cameron said easily. “I have a habit of doing the same.”

A strange uncomfortable silence fell over the table. Brie nervously cleared her throat. “So, how did you two meet?” she asked a little too brightly.

Sherry had clearly been waiting for this question. She immediately dropped her menu and placed all ten fingertips on the table in front of her, throwing conspiratorial looks all around.

“It was the sweetest thing. There I was, minding my own business, holding my venti flat white and singing along with Brandi Carlile, when Siri made me turn the wrong way down a one-way street. Obviously, I screamed and dropped my coffee, ruining my favorite suede boots, by the way, when this guy,” she playfully shoved Mike, “showed up, lights flashing, siren blaring, and had the audacity to try to give me a ticket, when the fault clearly lay with my phone.”

Brie and Cameron took each other’s hands under the table.

“Well, as you can imagine, I was having none of that,” Sherry continued reasonably. “I started explaining the situation, and as I did—”

“As you colorfully did,” interjected Mike.

“—as I did, he started laughing. Laughing. At me. Can you imagine?”

She waited for them to imagine, then continued at full speed. “So, I yelled at him, explaining the concepts of manners and Southern hospitality. I was just getting to the inestimable loss of one’s favorite pair of shoes when he handed back my license and asked me out for a drink.”

Mike took her hand affectionately. “What can I say? I was smitten.”

Sherry grinned. “What can I say? I love a man with good taste. Plus, the uniform doesn’t hurt. Neither do the handcuffs.”

The waitress materialized with a bottle of Chablis and a round of oyster shooters. After the pour, everyone raised their glasses as Sherry proposed a toast. “To Brianna and her new chapter. I’m so proud of you, love.”

Everyone clinked with a murmured, “To Brianna.”

“To Brianna,” Cameron echoed softly, locking eyes with her.

They both took a little sip — the first of what would be many, many more to come.

? ? ?

As sweet as the gesture might have been, the upscale restaurant turned out to be a bit of a disaster. The menu was entirely indecipherable for anyone who hadn’t spent a significant amount of time living on the opposite side of the Atlantic. Or in a supernatural parallel world.

In an ironic twist of fate, the only member of their party who seemed remotely at ease was the one who had been most concerned about the outing in the first place. Cameron ordered for everyone in perfect French after they pointed and told him their choices, then proceeded to have a brief but apparently charming conversation in the foreign tongue with their waitress, a platinum blonde wearing sky-high heels who laughed as she collected the menus and clicked off to the kitchen.

“Have you spent much time in France?” asked Sherry, clearly impressed.

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