Page 45 of Scrooged for the Holidays
“So you aren’t wealthy?”
I can’t say that I’m not. While Elysian Pines doesn’t need money to operate, many Nephilim—Sam, Kai, and I included—do have money. We’ve lived a long time, and we have accounts and stocks that grow every year. If we need money for the rare occasion we travel outside the town’s borders, we have access to it. There are also nonprofit organizations around the world that we donate to.
All that is hard to explain, though, so I give her the only answer that makes sense and won’t be confusing to explain. “Wealth isn’t only measured in money.”
She huffs. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those kumbaya people who measures wealth by friends, family, and experiences?”
“And if I am?”
“Then I hate to break it to you, but not all people are that way. And may I add that you can’t buy a home, clothes, or food with good relationships and whatever bullshit you think brings you wealth beyond money.”
“I won’t deny you need money to live or that I have access to money, but I do not believe that’s all you need.”
Greer’s eyes narrow at me as I put her business card in the pocket of my pants then pick up my tea. I stare at her over the brim. Her bleak aura pulses gray, but I also see a slight edge of red that’s similar to that of passion. But this is a bit darker, muddier, showing me she’s pissed.
I’m about to look away from it when I notice a tiny bit of blue.Sadness.
I exhale and put my cup down after I take a drink, the now-warm tea settling in my churning gut. I didn’t think our conversation would end up going down a serious path so soon. We’ll have plenty of time for that when I visit her tonight.
“Let’s change the subject.” I steeple my fingers. “I’d rather we not argue.”
She clears her throat. “I don’t know; sometimes arguing can be fun.”
When I see the corner of her lips turn into a smile, my stomach flips. “You sound like Kai.”
Greer shifts in her chair like she had earlier, the anger and sadness expelling from her aura as a lighter red returns that has a pink edge—passion and some lust.
“He seems like the type to argue for fun.” Her eyes glaze over, and I wonder if she’s thinking about what she saw in my office last night. When more passion pulses from her aura, I think that’s a yes.
I lean forward in my chair a bit, voice an octave lower. “He can be a proper little shit when he wants to be.”
Greer puffs a low laugh, gaze drifting to my lips before she meets my eyes again. “And you?” she asks.
“Do I think arguing can be fun?”
“Yes.”
“Depends on what kind.”
“And what kind is that?”
I lean a bit closer. “Wouldn’t you like to know, love?”
Her eyes dart to my lips once more, and she leans in closer. We may have been in a bit of a heated debate moments ago, but now there’s a different kind of heat between us, one that makes the hunger in my stomach grow despite the food I just ate.
Greer licks her lips as if she’s had the same thought, and I draw nearer to her from across the table.
Remi. You’re just as bad as Kai. What are you doing?
The rough sound of Sam’s voice in my mind makes me blink and pull back. Greer is still leaning across the table, almost frozen in place. We’d both been much closer than I thought, nearly about to kiss.
I swallow hard, my skin prickling as if I’d been in some kind of magnetic trance, one that was pulling me toward this enigmatic woman.
Seeing what happens,I answer back.
This is not the time to live in the moment. She needs—
I’ll decide that for myself, Sam.
