Part 103 (1/2)
”I don't know.”
”Okay. I understand now why you don't trust me.”
Teeth gritted, she put the bags down and turned to face him. ”No, really, I don't know.”
”She doesn't know why I'm here? Or she doesn't know when I'm leaving? Which?”
Claire's nostrils flared. She'd intended to tell Dean about her premonition but not in front of her sister. Diana in the same room with impending doom practically guaranteed Armageddon. ”She'll be leaving on Sunday night because she's got school on Monday morning and she's already missed too much of it this year. Dean, this is my sister Diana.”
”Hey.” She waggled a hand in an exaggerated wave.
It was the first time Dean had felt like smiling all morning. Although the sisters looked superficially alike, dark hair and eyes, short and thin, energy popped and fizzed around Diana as though she'd been carbonated. ”Hi.”
”So you're from Newfoundland?”
”That's right.” Picking up the bag with the produce, he began putting things away.
”I've never been there.”
”You'd have noticed,” Claire added, pa.s.sing over a package of luncheon meat.
”So.” Diana picked up a loaf of bread and examined it critically. ”Did you always want to work in a hotel?”
”No. I just needed a job.”
”I hear Augustus Smythe was a real tyrant.”
”He wasn't so bad.”
”Worse than Claire?”
He stared down into a net bag of cooking onions. ”Different.”
”Still, I guess you get to meet a lot of interesting people working here. Vampires and werewolves and... Ow! Claire!”
They were standing about ten feet apart but, obviously, that hadn't been far enough. Dean had no idea of what was going on and no intention of getting between them. ”Yeah,” he said, folding the bags and putting them away, ”lots of interesting people.”
”How long are you planning on staying around?”
”Actually...” He took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and turned to face Claire. ”Actually, I've been thinking of leaving.”
”Leaving?”
”Yeah. You know, getting on with my life.”
Silently congratulating herself for maintaining a neutral expression, Claire wondered why her reflection in his gla.s.ses looked as though she'd just been punched in the stomach. ”When?”
”Soon. If you want, this can be my two week notice.” When Claire gave no indication of what she wanted, he shrugged. ”Nice meeting you, Diana. I've got to go make some phone calls.”
”Well, thud,” Diana said, as he disappeared down the bas.e.m.e.nt stairs.