Page 69 of Lessons with the Mothman

So I sat, holding a glass of champagne that was growing flat and warm, because the thought of drinking it made me queasy, and wearing a smile my mother had taught me as my sister tried on wedding dresses for her marriage to my former fiancé.

I was happy for Emma. I had no regrets about leaving Brett.

But I should've done it without an affair.

What had happened with Stanton? Had he seduced me, or was it the other way around? It'd seemed natural at the time, but could I pick out the overtures now and look at them differently? Did I even want to?

"Ben mentioned that you haven't called."

There was a soft giggle from the dressing room where Emma was being fussed over, and the sound helped me relax back against the overstuffed white couch.

"Who?" I asked, blinking at my mother.

Kathy rose up from my mother's side and wandered from the back room into the storefront. She and Mom had already had a handful of spats over the dresses they'd sent back to Emma, but I could tell Emma was too excited to really care about their bickering.

"Ben Stone," my mother said, and when I remained staring blankly back at her, she huffed and rolled her eyes. "Ben, Vicky. Your father and I introduced the?—"

I jerked back, nearly splashing the champagne in my hand. "Oh! God, I completely forgot about him," I said, a laugh escaping me as I leaned forward, giving up the glass. I didn't want to drink anyway.

"Evidently. I imagine you don't like the idea of being set up by your father and me," my mother started.

"I don't," I agreed blithely.

"But he's a charming man, and he has a sister in academia?—"

"Mom, I'm not?—"

"Okay, first one is almost ready," a woman called to us from the dressing room.

"Vicky," Kathy said, reappearing with flushed cheeks and a strange and previously unheard of giggle. "Your friend is here."

He had asked where Emma's appointment was when I'd turned down lunch at the bar, but I'd never imagined…

"Ta-da!" Emma cried, bursting from the dressing room in a great heave of sighing satin.

"Hello, darling," Elias purred, following Kathy into the room.

"What do you—Oh!" Emma paused, one foot poised to step onto the platform at the center of the room, her mouth open and her eyes wide as she stared at the doorway.

Kathy stepped back, making room for Elias, or at least giving herself room to admire him.

My heart gave an awkward pang just at the sight of him. The lighting of the boutique's dressing room was designed to flatter nervous brides to be, but it made Elias's golden wings and fur absolutely radiant.

"Oh, dear," Elias said, shoulders hunching in a perfect imitation of sheepishness. "I didn't mean to interrupt a reveal."

He was holding a cup tray with four lidded drinks, and he was dressed in that devastatingly casual but meticulous way of his. And he was brilliant, and it was so obvious by the delighted fascination on Kathy's, Emma's, and my mother's faces that they'd never seen anyone like him before.

Moth fae were rare, as Elias liked to point out.

And even if they weren't, I knew few of them could possibly be as beautiful as Elias.

I was standing, although I couldn't remember rising, and Elias's eyes found mine, that gentle smile faltering for a moment before stretching wider.

"I shouldn't be here, I know," he said. "I just wanted to bring you all a treat, since I was passing by."

Liar.

"Vicky," my mother murmured, so sweet, all her carefully portioned sugar in two words. "Introduce us."

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