Page 18 of Demons

He nodded, then walked over to the next booth.

“If we can’t talk about the rich and terrifying, then let’s discuss this issue you have with Haines and teeth.”

I rolled my eyes and took another bite of salad, then shook my head. I wasn’t doing that. Esther was going to drive me nuts with her need for me to be in a relationship with someone. Just because she was didn’t mean I had to be too. The dream—where we got married at the same time, lived next door to each other, had daughters who were best friends—was something she’d come up with when we were kids. Not me. I always listened to her and smiled. But she never seemed to realize I wasn’t agreeing that it sounded like a great plan.

“Haines has that nice, big house, and he drives a Mercedes. He probably has his own personal gym in that house you could use. He’s also not hard to look at,” she said, then took another bite.

“There isn’t that thing between us. No spark. It’s not exciting,” I replied.

She frowned. “Not exciting? What is supposed to be exciting?”

If she didn’t understand, then I didn’t know how to explain it. Maybe it was just me who desired some kind of excitement. I wanted that rush or thrill that I got when racing. The only thing Haines made me feel was annoyance.

“I just want more,” I told her.

She looked over my shoulder again. “I think she’s a stripper,” she whispered. “She looks like one at least.”

I didn’t have to ask to know she was talking about the woman with Thatcher.

“He has a type,” I replied sourly. Because I was not that type. I would never be that type.

“They’re leaving. He didn’t even eat. Looks like she had eaten before he got here,” Esther said.

“Would you stop watching them?” I hissed. I didn’t need a play-by-play.

She frowned at me. “What? They aren’t looking this way. They are walking out.”

I picked up my water, no longer hungry. I wished she hadn’t told me what the woman looked like. It was hard enough seeing him with them at the stables.

I scanned the area for our server. I was going to box up the salad to go and hopefully pay our bill.

“Do you think that was, like, a booty call? He came to buy her meal, then take her back to his place and have wild sex. I wonder if he does that freaky stuff—you know, like whips and chains and that kind of thing.”

She was looking at me for a response. I did not want to think about Thatcher having sex with the stripper.

“Can we talk about something else?”

I saw the server and waved at him. I was ready to leave.

“Yes?” he said, smiling as he came over to us.

“Could you bring me a to-go box? And I need to pay the bill,” I told him.

“Absolutely, and your bill has been covered.”

I frowned, not sure I understood. “No, you haven’t brought it to me yet.”

He grinned. “Mr. Shephard paid it already. He tipped too. So, don’t worry about leaving one. He left plenty.”

I had no words. I just stared at him as he walked away.

“Holy shit,” Esther said.

Why had he paid for our meal?

“Did he even look this way?” I asked her.

She shook her head. “Not that I noticed, but he paid the tab, so he must have seen you.” She leaned closer to me. “Does he talk to you at work? I mean, are you keeping something from me?”

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