Page 16 of Oh No! There’s an Incubus in my Hot Spring (Getting Cozy with Demons #1)

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Mark Can Suck it, a Marketing Strategy

T hree weeks of orgasms, nailing wood planks to the floor, drafting up aesthetic designs, cleaning the pools, stabilizing their pH balance, playing with my magic, and working on my special gift for Apollo has left me a bit stir-crazy—but also feeling highly accomplished. Still, I need to get out, and it’s Saturday, so Irene won’t be working. I pull up her number and fire off a text inviting her to have dinner with me this evening.

I want to hit Mark where it hurts. I’m pretty good at marketing businesses myself, but I want an expert to bounce ideas around with me. Irene is smart, funny, and has a reason to hate the Turdleneck even more than me. It’ll make our strategy absolutely lethal.

But more than screwing over my competition, I really miss having a girlfriend. Alexis was my closest confidant for four years…

I scroll down and see the red (2) sitting over her name in my text list. The preview of the first six words makes my throat tight.

I’m so sorry. I love him.

I’m not sure how she does. Not sure what he did to be worthy of her affection. She’s so much better than him, and disappointment swells in my stomach. I scroll past the message and see a reply from Irene.

I’m SO there! 7:30? I have to make sure my dad gets his meds at dinner around 6:30.

I smile and fire back two thumbs up with I’ll make the reservation.

Apollo and I get busy with doing a final clean sweep of the lobby to prepare for the new furniture I ordered. When six rolls around, Apollo drags me to the bedroom for one last feasting. Who am I to deny a hungry man?

I shower after and find a decent cocktail dress for the reservation at the nicest steakhouse in town, Corks. Since I’ve got the capital, and this is technically a business meeting, I’m going to wine and dine Irene to the max. She deserves it for all she’s been through, and all she does.

Apollo’s eyes rake over me from the bathroom door as I finish my makeup. “I will be undressing you later. Slowly.”

I laugh for what feels like the millionth time since coming here. “You’re going to inflate my ego, sir.”

“It deserves to be inflated,” he says, dragging his nails down the exposed skin on my back. “You are the most beautiful woman in the twelve realms.”

“All twelve, huh?” My face heats and I turn my head down, hiding in the curtain of my straightened hair.

“Don’t do that, lovely.” Apollo grabs my chin and tilts it back up until I’m looking at myself in the mirror. “Even without all these accoutrements, you’re stunning and worthy of praise.”

His attentive stare makes me squirm.

“Thank you.”

“You’re most welcome.” His smile is so genuine and full of warmth. No wonder Mark’s great-grandmother fell in love with him.

“Right, well.” I clear my throat. “Best not keep Irene and the table at Corks waiting. I’ll bring you something back!”

He smiles. “I can’t wait.”

I grab my purse and dash for the door, slipping on my pumps as I go.

“Have a wonderful time, girl friend.” Apollo waves from the kitchen with Charlie in his palm.

“You two don’t raise too much hell without me, okay?” I grin and close the door.

The RAV fires up and I’m jamming on my way into town within minutes. I sing loudly with the windows down because to hell with the haters. The tension in my stomach is barely a flicker by the time I reach the restaurant, and the sight of it makes the rest of my worries go skittering into the back of my mind.

It’s a two-story, tavern-style building with natural wood beams and cream-colored plaster. The windows are four panes with black dividers and rippled glass that gives it a very old-timey feel while still having a modern appeal.

I park and hug my black shawl around my exposed shoulders as I walk toward the entrance. Leonard is dressed in a dark suit with a silver name tag, waiting to open the door.

“Second job?” I ask as I stop to chat. It’s still a few minutes until our res.

He nods. “Yeah, diner work on the weekend nine-to-five and then doorman here most nights seven-to-eleven.”

“That’s a heck of a schedule,” I say.

“It pays my bills while I’m in school. It’s definitely not going to cover the student loans though—Good evening, have a great dinner,” he says to an approaching couple and I step aside so he can open the door for them.

“What are you in school for?” I ask once they’re inside.

He scrubs the back of his neck. “Veterinary medicine.”

“That’s awesome,” I say with a bright grin. He’s a good kid, despite defacing my property.

He smiles back. “Yeah, I love it. CSU is the second-highest rated school in the country for my degree, so I feel really lucky I was able to get in.”

I balk. “That’s quite a drive.”

He nods. “Yeah, but most of my classes are online for now. When I do have to go in for a test or something, I’ve got couches I can crash on.”

“You’ve got that moxie,” I say with an air jab of my elbow.

He chuckles. “Yeah, guess so. Just don’t want to get stuck here, ya know? It’s kind of a death trap.”

“What do you mean? Seems like a pretty nice place to me,” I say, trying to eke more out of him.

He grimaces as he glances around the parking lot. “It’s just really hard to get away. Hard to get enough money to get away.”

I nod. “I get it. I grew up in the high desert, California, and those towns were really hard to escape.”

“How did you get out?” he asks.

My heart squeezes and I suck in a deep breath. “Fought for it, just like you are. I just paid off my last student loan when I sold my business in New York. I thought for sure I was going to die with them.”

We both laugh, a grim camaraderie kind of laugh.

I shrug. “But circumstances in my life changed after selling my business and it left a lot more money open to work with, especially after selling my condo.”

“That’s good. I’m glad that worked out so you could come here.” He sighs. “I don’t really care if I die in debt. I just wanna hang out with animals all day.”

“An amicable life’s work,” I say, grinning at him.

He bobs his head. “Yeah. And I can bring my dogs with me to the office.”

“Hey, girl! Sorry I’m late,” Irene yells from the parking lot. I turn to see her jogging up to the door in a cute hunter-green pantsuit with a big bow at the side of the waist and jingling gold jewelry on her wrists and ears. She knows how to put an outfit together, that much is clear.

I check my phone. “You’re right on time.”

She opens her arms for a hug and I oblige.

“My mom always said if you’re not ten minutes early, you’re late,” she says with a mock-serious expression.

We laugh.

“Well, you’re three minutes early, so you were a third on time. Thanks for keeping me company, Leonard,” I say as I turn to the doorman.

“Anytime.” He beams as he opens the door. “You ladies have a nice dinner.”

“With the two of us, that’s inevitable,” I say.

Irene laughs. “I knew I liked you.”

The interior is just as stunning as the exterior. I’d thought it was a two-story building, but it just has a really high ceiling. Gold light from the clouds above fills the rafters through the uncovered windows, and classy, modern chandeliers hang every few feet. There are spotlights pointed up at the ceiling that aren’t on yet, but I assume they help with the lighting later in the evening.

The tables are covered in white cloth and the chairs look heavy. Paintings of the Colorado mountains and the animals native to them adorn the walls. Gold accents everything, making it all feel opulent, while still maintaining the natural quality of the wood.

There are natural dividers in the room coming off the sides of the support beams, creating a more private atmosphere. The acoustics are well-tuned, too. The din of many conversations doesn’t overcome the classy big brass band music, but the occasional laugh rises above the rest.

I like this place.

“Azarolla, party of two?” the hostess asks with a wide smile as we approach her.

“That’s us,” I say.

She waves us forward with two menus.

“I’m surprised there’s no Silver Mountain sign hanging from the host stand,” I say to Irene from the corner of my mouth.

“Yeah, he doesn’t own this one, and they refused to advertise for him. In retaliation, he doesn’t include Corks in any of his dining pamphlets or on his website even though I told him a dozen times that’s just bad marketing. If he wants big-bucks customers, he needs to show off big-bucks restaurants.”

“Here you are,” the hostess says, showing us to a table against the window with a great view of the obscured sunset. The towering mountains make it impossible to see any of the sun after seven, but the clouds are still nice.

We take our seats and the hostess leaves us with the menus. Irene drums her fingers and I have a feeling I know what’s going through her head.

“Thanks so much for meeting me.” I begin. “I wanted to talk more about hiring you for a few hours a week, if that’s all right, so I’ll be covering the entire meal.”

She lets out a big breath and smiles. “Yeah, that sounds great. Thank you for treating me.”

“Wine?” I ask, flipping open the drink menu behind our little candle on the table.

“Red?” she says with a shrug.

“Cabernet or Pino?”

“Cab.”

I scan the list, but I’m not a sommelier, so I just pick something middle-of-the-road price-wise and cross my fingers. The waiter brings us water and promises to return with fresh bread and wine soon.

“How’s your dad?”

Irene bobs her head. “He’s same old, same old. Dealing with diabetes and bad cravings that make it hard for him to be on his own, some other things. But he’s generally happy, I think.”

“What does he do, or did he do?”

“He used to run the tour buses and ski buses up the mountain.” She smiles. “Used to let me ride up with him in the morning and snowboard down before school.”

“Snowboarding looks so cool, but I never got into winter sports growing up in Cali.”

“Oh, well that is going to change this year. I’m going to take you snowboarding for sure, if you stay.”

I scowl. “What do you mean, ‘if I stay?’”

“Mark and his family run everyone out of town who try to fix up the haunted springs. I just figured it’s a possibility that you’ll get sick of his shit and peace out.”

I shake my head. “I’m a stubborn bitch. There’s no way I’m letting Turdleneck run me out.”

“Turtleneck.” She snorts into her water and covers her mouth.

“No, it’s Turd-le neck.” I correct her, and she laughs harder.

“Oh, yeah, I like you.”

The waiter drops off our wine and bread with fresh whipped garlic butter. She raises her glass to me. “A toast, then, to a new, long-lasting friendship.”

I clink her glass with mine, feeling the gravity of the red (2) in my texts worm back to the forefront of my mind. I take two good gulps to make it shut up.

“Before we get down to business, I have to ask.” I lean forward and so does she. “How does he seem to know everything that’s going on in town?”

She rolls her eyes. “He has a lot of different people who idolize him, crave his power.”

I know she only means his sway, but I wonder how many people know that magic is real, and that Mark may actually have some.

“They tell him everything. He has a special chat group for the fifteen or so of them, and they’re always going on, sharing gossip and shit-talking. It’s dumb.”

I sigh. “He showed up at my place the other day and forced his way in because he heard I had help.”

She chokes on her wine. “Hon, you need to get a restraining order!”

I roll my shoulders. “I won’t give him the satisfaction. I doubt it would do much in any case. Anyway, I hadn’t told anyone about the help I was getting—he’s been blocking all my contractor requests, so I had to get creative.”

Irene waggles her eyebrows. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.” I laugh awkwardly, the wine already warming my stomach. “But the only people who saw him were the moving ‘hunks’ who took away some of the older stuff and helped unload my personal furniture.”

“Yep, the owner of that moving company is in with him. Did you see the advertisement for Silver Mountain on the side of the truck?”

“I figured he just paid to get on everything around here,” I say.

“He makes mutual deals first, then pays when he can’t strong-arm them into agreeing. Except Corks and a few others, he’s got signs in pretty much every establishment here.”

I pour us each a refill. “And this is where I think we can have him beat. He’s got literally no merch on anyone in town. I haven’t seen a single Silver Mountain hoodie, hat, bumper sticker, or anything.”

She rolls her eyes. “Merchandise isn’t his thing. He’s a control freak and wouldn’t let me make anything cool because who’s going to just wear his logo? Obviously, no one.”

“I want to let you make some cool stuff. I want to emphasize the haunted and enchanted part of the springs, and make some hilarious, memeable merch, things that people want to wear because it’s fun.”

She snaps a finger gun at me. “Yes, girl. The legends will go a long way for the people who live here, and the memes will carry you for anyone who doesn’t.”

“Guaranteed to raise your spirits,” I say in a mystic tone.

“Water hot enough to rouse the dead,” she replies.

“Enough minerals to make a protection circle.”

“A steamy seance to reconnect with your soul.”

“I better start writing these down,” I say, pulling out my phone.

The rest of the meal progresses with good wine, great steaks, and even better ideas. I’m fighting to keep pace with our rapid-fire back and forth and get a few bites of my meal in. By the end of the night, I’m thoroughly giggled out and ready to let my incubus boy friend slowly undress me.