Mister purred and walked back and forth between my ankles, rubbing fondly against me. I tried not to trip on him and kill myself as I got out his breakfast and fed him.
“Okay,” Will said, scanning the top page of his clipboard with a yawn. “Ready for today?”
I grunted, getting down the bacon and eggs and firing up one of the big stoves and skillets.
“Carbs,” Will said absently. “Leg day.”
I got out the pot for oatmeal and started that too.
“Budget meeting at one,” Will said. “The city guy is coming at two to threaten us with re-zoning.”
“Again?”
Will shrugged. “Marcone cut some corners when he built this place. The city was careful about him. They aren’t careful about you. Three, you’ve got that meeting with the Paranet committee.”
“With Paranoid Gary,” I said.
“And at four,” Will continued, “Lara’s new assistant is coming to arrange terms for the first date.”
“I’m not budging on my limits. And it’s not for two more weeks,” I said.
“Mab’s lawyers want time to review the terms and limitations,” Will noted.
I sighed. “Understanding and limits are probably a good idea in most interactions. ‘Terms and limitations’ is one of those phrases that probably shouldn’t apply to dating.”
Will chuckled ruefully. Then he paused and looked up at me. “There’s an insert for this morning I think you should look at.”
Once the skillet was warm, butter, eggs and bacon went on. I wasn’t particular about the grease at the moment. Extreme grief and stress eat away at your body. Mine needed every calorie I could force down it. “I’m still not up to speed, Will. Morning is for rebuilding and people.”
“Yeah,” Will said. “That’s why I said something.”
I took up my coffee, checked the oatmeal, and glanced at him.
“Woman is in trouble, and came here,” he said. “She’s in a bad spot. Maybe you can help.”
Help.
Murphy’s lips, turning blue.
“Harry,” he said, patience and compassion thick in his voice. “Come back.”
I hadn’t realized the time had passed while I dissociated from the memory, but the eggs had started to smoke a little. Scrambled, then. I nodded thanks to Will and made adjustments.
“This woman. She in trouble with the Fae? Got some vampire in her life?”
“No, actually,” Will said.
I frowned and looked up. “What does she need?”
“I think she needs a savvy PI.”
“Huh. What does she need with me?” I asked whimsically. But something deep down inside me stirred, like an old warhorse who hears the sound of trumpets.
Mister looked up from his food, purred, and rubbed between my knees again. I stared down at the battle-scarred old boy for a moment.
“Maybe it’s time,” I said.
Chapter Two
Her name was Maya, and she looked like someone who had skipped a lot of meals in her life. Late thirties, features starker than they were pretty, a lot of freckles on light caramel skin. She wore comfortable shoes and inexpensive, serviceable clothes; slacks, a white shirt and a beige cardigan. She wouldn’t have money—probably explained why she’d come to me.
Susan, I thought. She looks something like Susan might have if she’d lived a normal life.