Part 15 (1/2)
Since I'm Super Vamp, I could still hear every little b.u.mp and groan anyway. I ended up burying my head under two pillows and humming to myself until I finally nodded off.
The noise followed me, of course, reminding me how far away I was from my apartment (the most I had to put up with there was CNN and the occasional fight from the couple down on two) and Killer and my life.
Even more, it reminded me of Esther and how alone she probably felt.
Not for long. I was here and I was going to find her.
Before it was too late.
At least that's what I was telling myself. I just wasn't so sure I actually believed it.
”D inner's at five,” Elmer said when I finally managed to pick up the ringing phone on the night-stand. ”We get the stuff catered in once a week from the Porky Pig down the street. It's first come, first served and I got a whole mess of bull riders headed inside right now. If you want some, you'd better get down here before these boys eat up everything.”
”I don't really do barbecue, but thanks anyway.” I listened to Elmer give me the lowdown on the Continental breakfast being served the following morning-Krispy Kreme and orange juice-and gave him a cheerful ”Can't wait” before sliding the phone back into place.
Ugh.
My head pounded and my arms and legs ached. I felt as if I'd spent the day tossing and turning thanks to a loud ice machine and a per sis tent calf.
Oh, wait. I had spent the day tossing and turning and listening to a loud ice machine and a per sis tent calf.
I buried my head under the pillow and dove straight into LaLa Land. At least, I tried.
Mooooooooooo. The sound reached beneath the surface and hauled me back to consciousness. My eyes snapped open. I fought my way past a pile of blankets and stumbled from the bed. Peeking around the edge of the blinds to make sure the sun had dipped below the horizon, I hauled open the door and scowled.
”Enough!”
The calf looked at me. I looked at the calf. He moooooooed and I grrrrrrrrrred. Instead of crazy, sleep-deprived woman, I went for bloodthirsty vampire. I snarled and flashed some serious fang.
The animal gave a frightened moan, pranced backward and scrambled down the walkway. Psyched, I turned toward the ice machine.
”You want a piece of me?”
It knocked and shuddered. I tried the snarl-and-flash thing. No luck. I balled my fingers and popped it on the side. Metal groaned and dented. The machine gave a dying sputter and dumped a load of ice on my feet.
”That's what I thought.” I shook off the ice, thanked the Big Vamp Upstairs that I wasn't wearing my Chanel silk slippers and headed back inside my room.
Quiet settled around me, but I was already wide awake. I stared at the ceiling all of five seconds before reaching for my cell.
Evie answered on the second ring and recited this week's DED slogan. ”Dead End Dating. Where love is just a profile and several paychecks away.”
It's just temporary, all right?
”How's it going?” I asked her.
”I added a new client today.”
”The custom deluxe package?” ”The nifty thrifty, but if it's any consolation, I think she'll be easy to match up. She's been married eight times and she's afraid of being alone. I'm betting we hit pay dirt with the first prospect.”
”Any messages?”
”The Amway guy called again, and somebody from the newspaper wanting to know if we're running an ad in the local. Nina One called twice.”
Already? I glanced at the clock. It was barely sunset. Two phone calls in the fifteen minutes she'd been awake didn't translate into good. Unless she was simply excited because she'd realized that Rob was The One and she was ready to pledge her undying love for the rest of eternity.
I smiled and made a mental note to punch in her digits as soon as I hung up.
”Mandy also called,” Evie went on. ”Your mother invited her for c.o.c.ktails and she wanted you to join them at Crazy Jimmy's.”
Crazy J's was an exclusive specialty c.o.c.ktail bar on the Upper West Side that catered to vampires. They featured over fifty different types of b.l.o.o.d.y Marys, from the cla.s.sic to the spicy b.l.o.o.d.y Maria and the Sizzling Caesar. Their award -winning specialty? A b.l.o.o.d.y Biker made with imported vodka and-you guessed it-a b.l.o.o.d.y biker. Since my ma had invited Mandy, I was banking they'd branched out and added a Yaztini to the menu.
”What time?”
”They're meeting at eight.”
”Call Mandy back and tell her I'll be there.”
”But you're in Arizona.”
”Did you tell her that?”
”I didn't actually talk to her. She left a message while I was interviewing the thrifty client.”
”Great. Call her and tell her I'll be there, but I'm in the mood for something different. Tell her we're meeting at Pollo Loco instead.”
”Should I call your mom and inform her about the change?”
”No. Let her go to Crazy Jimmy's.” It was a lame trick, and a long shot, but it was all I had at the moment.
”I don't understand,” Evie told me.
”Two words. My. Mother.”
”Pollo Loco it is.”
While Evie had missed the memo that named Jacqueline Marchette BV of the year, she'd obviously gotten all the others that had spelled out what an overbearing, self-centered, controlling fruitcake my ma could be.
I told Evie thanks, promised I'd bring her plenty of notes from the conference and hit the OFF b.u.t.ton.
Punching in Nina One's number, I listened as Jesse McCartney sang an a cappella version of ”Leavin'.”
Ouch.
Not that it meant anything. She'd probably changed her mind, realized her love and simply hadn't had the time to change the ringtone.
”It's Lil,” I told her when her voice mail finally kicked in. ”Just returning your call. I'm on my cell.”
I pulled out my laptop and spent the next few minutes checking email before I headed for the shower. Then I did hair and makeup, and tried to pump myself up about finding Mordred.
Because I could do this. I would do it.