Page 22 of My Vampire Plus-One
“You know what? Forget it.” I’d come up with some other way—somegrown-upway—to deal with this situation. I didn’t need to resort to pranking my family. I was an adult. I was anaccountant. This was beneath me.
I pushed back from my chair and stood to leave.
“Wait,” he said. It sounded almost like pleading. “I didn’t finish.”
“Was something going to come after telling me you don’t do favors for people?”
He shook his head. “No, what I said was I didn’tusuallydo favors for people. But I did disrupt your evening last night, and I did say I’d make it up to you.” He shrugged. “I didn’t think you’d take me up on that since I didn’t think I’d see you again. But since here you are…I’d be willing to consider it. Depending on what the favor is, of course.”
He motioned for me to join him. I hesitated. What sort of person had a default no-favors policy? But I was without options.
“Thank you,” I said, taking the chair I’d just vacated.
“You’re welcome. So…what do you need, Amelia Collins?”
I could do this. I took a deep breath, squared my shoulders, and said, “I need someone to pretend to be my boyfriend at a family wedding.”
He stared at me. A group of noisy teenagers filed past ourtable and made their way over to the counter. We paid them no mind.
“I’m sorry, but…what?”
“I know this sounds bonkers—”
“It does,” he agreed. “Very deeply bonkers.”
“I swear this will all make sense after I’ve explained.” I paused, considering. “It’llmaybemake sense,” I amended.
“I am all ears.” The corner of his mouth quirked up into an amused half smile. Damn it, his lips wereextremelydistracting. It occurred to me that I didn’t know his name. I hadn’t putknow his nameon the list of fake date criteria I’d just made, but it suddenly felt like important information to have.
“Actually, could you tell me your name first?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Why?”
“You know my name, but I’ve just been thinking of you asMr. Fedora Asshole.” That earned a surprised laugh from him. Dammit, did even his laugh have to be attractive? “It puts us on unequal footing.”
His half smile slid into a smirk. “So you think about me, do you?”
I’d always thoughtblushed to the roots of her hairwas just a figure of speech. Turns out I’d been wrong. If myshoescould blush, they’d have been doing it. “Not at all,” I lied. “I mean, except for last night, when you nearly killed me when you mowed me down on the sidewalk.”
“You have an exceptional flair for the dramatic for an accountant.”
“I have a completely average flair for the dramatic for an accountant,” I said, feeling a little unhinged. Talking to this man felt like trying to walk in a straight line on a listing ship. “Which is to say, I don’t have one. And you’re certainly one to talk. Lastnight you were wearing a fedora and a trench coat when it was, like, twenty degrees outside. You were dressed like you…like you…” I trailed off, flailing for the right words.
He winced. “Like I wanted to be seen?”
“Yes,” I said. “Exactly like that. You seem dramatic as hell if I’m being honest.”
“Ordinarily that observation would please me,” he said, looking very displeased. “But given present circumstances, I’m not thrilled that my best attempts at blending into the background didn’t work.”
I had no idea whatthatmeant. It didn’t matter. We were getting off topic here. We were wasting time.
“Listen,” I said. “Are you going to tell me your name or not?”
“Oh,” he said, as if just remembering I was there. “Sure. Reginald.”
“Reginald?” That was…certainly an unusual name for someone my age. “Is that actually your name?”
“Why would I give you a fake name?”
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