connect the home I’m standing in to the guy who is my partner. A rectangular dining table, which matches the cherry cabinets, is to my right, surrounded by cream suede chairs. A modern glass chandelier hangs above it. The living room is in front of me, on the other side of the counter, which also serves as a breakfast bar. A pair of brown suede sofas are arranged around a cozy fireplace. Above the mantel is a flat-screen television. To the left stand two gleaming guitars. To the right, a black baby grand. There are decorative pillows and throws, candles, place mats, fresh flowers, and even some artwork. But there is nothing that feels personal.
Maybe it’s because he’s just moved in. Maybe it’s because the place is more of a designer showcase than a home. What I do know is that if I want to find out more about Zack Armstrong tonight, I’m going to have to do it the old-fashioned way—and in this case, that means asking questions. Any other way is too dangerous.
The shower comes on upstairs and I throw myself into the mission of making salad. Trouble is, the assignment doesn’t take long enough. My work is soon done; the shower isn’t. I look up, not because the ceiling is interesting, but because that’s where my eyes are drawn. Lasting love is something I can never have. Blistering, hot sex? That is fair game and experience tells me it’s just one floor away. Hot. Soapy. Shower sex. Perfectly natural. Not to mention efficient.
I pluck a cherry tomato out of the salad bowl and pop it into my mouth. “And so much more fun than interrogation.” The fate of the next tomato is rescued by the ringing of my cell. It’s Liz. Thank God. I push the images of Zack that have been forming—naked and wet—aside.
“Distract me.”
I don’t have to ask twice. Liz is in the midst of a meltdown.
“I’m in Evan’s bathroom. I don’t have a lot of time.”
Evan Porter is a thirtysomething attorney vampire. I’ve met him several times. He’s hardworking, earnest, loyal, and completely in love with my best friend. They’ve been dating for three months, which for Liz is probably some kind of record.
“Are you okay?”
“Are you kidding? I’m calling you from the friggin’ bathroom. I’m a wreck!” she whispers. “We have to talk.”
“We are talking,” I remind her.
“Tomorrow, after Evan leaves for work. Emma, he wants me to move in.”
Whoa.
“And?”
“I told him I needed to think about it.”
“And?”
“And then I ran in here to call you! You know I’ve been staying here for a few days while my place is getting painted. Tonight we’re eating dinner and he tells me he doesn’t want me to leave. He wants me to put my place on the market and move in here. He’s talking about putting down roots. About making a life together. That’s insane. Right? Hello? Vampire. Sure, I can work some mojo, extend things a bit. But eternity? No can do. He has this vision of happily-ever-after. I’m not even sure I can commit to happily-for-now. What the hell am I going to do?”
The shower’s no longer running. I’m not sure how long ago Zack turned it off.
“Let me get this straight. You’re asking
me
for relationship advice?”
“See? I’m a total and complete wreck!”
This time I hear a smile in her voice.
Zack bounds down the stairs dressed in a T-shirt and jeans, his hair still wet and slicked back from the shower. He walks straight past me into the kitchen and opens up the fridge.
“I’m free for lunch tomorrow,” I tell Liz. “Can we talk about it then?”
“Yes. Come here around noon?”
“You got it. See you then.”
Zack hands me a beer. “Friend having troubles?”
I don’t end the call quickly enough. Liz hears his voice and before I know it, I’m being barraged with questions.
“Who is that? You’re with someone? Are you out on a date?”
“It’s not a date. I’m working. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I disconnect before she can get in another word.
Zack is