Page 81 of Vampires of Eden
I pause, glancing down at her with one eyebrow raised. “Funny. I was thinking he might refuse for that very same reason.” The man practically had a meltdown because his eyes alighted for me. I don’t even know how to interpret this situation.
“Naaah.” She waves a hand, dismissive. “Puercoespín is sweet but he can be a bit dense—which, unfortunately, is what made him an easy target for Josefina.”
I fold my arms, remembering him saying that I was mean like Josefina. Evil. How dare he? I can be snarky, but I would never make fun of someone’s naivety like that.
Not to their face.
“He wants you to seduce him,” Leoni says. “He just hasn’t realized it yet.”
CHAPTER 19
Alexander
Istare blankly through the windows of the breakfast room, my knee nervously bouncing underneath the table. It’s raining and gray outside, but the dreary atmosphere makes the subtle sprigs of green blooming beyond the glass more radiant. Hopeful. The trees and brush thrive off of this downpour. It seems harsh, but it’s good for them.
I’ve asked Raph to join me for breakfast so that we can talk about an unexpected phone call I got from Leoni yesterday evening. All through the night, the conversation has replayed in my mind like an ear worm.
Should I try this? Help Leoni and Daniel run and operate the winery?
Live with them for two weeks?
It’s hard to imagine that Daniel has agreed to this, but Leoni promised me he’s on board.
I thought about texting and asking him directly to make sure. When I opened the chat, I saw my awkward, unanswered apology message sitting there and… Yeah, no. We made amends, but I’m not going to draw attention to that uncomfortable dead thing lying there. I deleted the chat.
What would it be like? Working with them on the vineyardand doing market events on the weekends. Early mornings packing up the van, then spending my days outdoors and talking to interesting vampires in the villages. Shopping for groceries and sharing in cleaning responsibilities. Cooking? I’ve never cooked anything in my life. I’d love to try.
A provincial life. A far cry from the glamor and excess—the elaborate banquets, cocktail parties, luncheons, fundraisers and swanky holiday retreats. No strict rules and carefully orchestrated schedules. No antiquated games.
Oliver wanted out of Eden but I don’t. I enjoy my aristocracy—the stunning range of landscapes and also the wonderful diversity we have of indigenous vampires and foreign transplants. The cultures of the outer villages and even the stylish charm of Central.
This prospective albeit temporary shift in my existence feels promising. Refreshing in a way that I desperately need. It’s nice to know that I’m still capable of feeling enthusiasm.
In some ways, I think that Daniel has given this to me. Our conversations help me process my feelings about Oliver and our failed relationship. It’s as if I’m finally unstuck and breathing comfortably after weeks of being clogged, smothered and distressed. Confused and wounded.
I never would have expected this from him. I’m grateful for it.
“I scooped out Buffy’s cat boxes in the library,” Raphael says, walking into the room with the poise of someone who did not just scoop cat turds out of a litter box. “You can do the one in your room, yeah?”
“I told you I’d do the ones in the library, too,” I protest. “You didn’t have to do it.”
“Yeah, but when?” He sits at the table across from me in a huff. His lightly freckled cheeks are flush from exertion. “You’re always at the safe house lately—or the vineyard cottage on the weekends and you come home and go straight to bed. It was starting to stink.”
“Sorry.”
“You’re running all around, but guess what? Buffy is still here, pooping in regular intervals. The cat is distinctlyyourjob. We discussed this.”
“I know, I know.”
“Anyway.” Having finished his rant, he folds his arms. “What’s up, buttercup?”
I run a hand through the top of my hair. “Speaking of the vineyard cottage, Leoni called me yesterday and made a very interesting offer.”
“Ah, our girl Leelee,” he says affectionately. “I haven’t spoken to her in forever. Was it an offer that you couldn’t refuse?”
“Well, I could refuse it, but I wanted to ask you about it first.”
“I’m listening.”
