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Kelvin had already met her, but I had somehow managed to survive that awkward evening. I didn’t need another.

Porter would probably laugh at me if I invited him. I didn’t see him as a real ‘go with’ who’d attend just because I asked.

What other options did I have? Harrison still didn’t answer calls from me, so there went that one.

Ruben?

I choked on the very idea. I was pretty sure he hated me most of the time, and when he didn’t? No thanks. If I brought him, he’d probably just tell me about how dangerous it was to expose humans to the Spirit world. No doubt he thought that cutting them off would be the best, safest option for all involved.

If we got past that, he’d just tell my mom what a horrible employee I was.

“We’ll see,” I answered, unwilling to outright tell her no but having absolutely no intention to just gather people who I hardly got along with at the best of times to join me at some family get together.

They didn’t need my fuck buddies crashing the party.

My brother was still pissed about the wholebringing a Mind into his urgent carething. I’d dodged his calls best I could, pretending I was just super busy instead of having to have any more talks with him. I imagined that hauling in any of those other folks would only make him worry all the more.

“Okay,” she said, her tone one of thinking I’d still do as she wanted even if I fought it a bit. That was usually her way, though.

She told me what I should do then waited for me to learn the lesson all on my own. She was there to help me, don’t get me wrong. She was there to support me when I inevitably fell on my face with the first attempt, but still, it was nice to know she’d at least help me up afterward.

I finished the call and hung up, only to find even more people glaring at me. It seemed taking a call in their lobby was something they absolutely couldn’t accept.

In fact, I even got a look from a few thralls that seems to imply they struggled to believe I’d be that stupid—or still alive.

Then again, if they only knew how many stupid things I’d survived, I figured they’d be mighty impressed by it all.

Really, I was most of the time.

I slid my phone back into the pack of my jeans and went a step further than the smile to actually wave at all the disapproving glances.

I wondered if word of this would get to Kelvin. Maybe they’d call and complain to Ruben? Who knew? It felt like a win either way. Some pathetic little part of me that had never grown past being a kid who thought all attention was good attention reveled in the idea of being a problem.

And my passenger—that crow spirit that was full of mischief and chaos—enjoyed it far too much as well.

I strolled out of the lobby of the ground floor, the place where I’d waited for the receiver of the letter to meet me, and onto the street. The sun had just started to dip behind the mountains, and I had no more deliveries for the day, which meant it sounded like a fantastic night to take myself out for a good meal.

* * * *

Chalk this up as one of the few good choices I’d made in my life. The large platter of nachos—piled high with cheese, carne asada and more toppings than I could count—smelled beyond fantastic.

I’d nursed it—along with what could have passed as a fishbowl of margarita—for an hour and it hardly looked as though I’d made a dent in either.

Music poured through the restaurant, a bit too loud to allow for much conversation, but seeing as I was flying solo, I didn’t mind that a bit. It overshadowed everything else—the sizzle of foods in the kitchen, the laughter from the drunk college girls a few tables away, the fighting from the old married couple behind me. Those things drifted away so I could only hear the music, like some ambient noise that drowned out the rest of the room.

I popped another chip into my mouth, a thick piece of carne asada on top, and held back a moan at the taste. There was something about Mexican food that just soothed the soul, that made me think everything would turn out okay.

The server stopped by and replaced the small empty bowl with another full of salsa without a word. He kept a close eye on the table, quick to grab anything I needed.

Then again, I came here pretty often. It wasn’t on the strip, and tourists usually didn’t venture quite this far outside of the happening areas. That meant the prices were lower, the building less busy and rideshares didn’t have to fight with valets in order to pick me up at the end of the night.

All in all?

It was a favorite of mine, and the servers knew me well enough that they were always nice to me.

Well, almost always. The time I got into a fight with a guy at his bachelor party had ended with them banning me for a week.

Fuck, had I missed their food…I could have starved!