Between the Lines - Part Two

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CHAPTER EIGHT: BETWEEN THE LINES - PART TWO

Well, that had been a disaster. Azel shut his apartment door and sunk back against the wood. What had made him think it would go well? He wasn’t exactly the kind of partner a person — especially an accomplished and amazing one like Harri — would introduce to their family. He sighed and tugged at his horns in frustration. He was a poor, jobless demon with nothing but a mountain of debt and a pretty face; yeah, what mother wouldn’t want that for her daughter?

He rolled his eyes as his phone buzzed. What now? He checked his text messages, seeing one from Xara.

XARA: Hey, Az, wanted to give you a heads up. The credit check we ran for your employment background showed several IRS audits and a lot of debt payments that haven’t been dealt with yet. I mean, I know you, so you’re hired regardless, but you should definitely look into that.

Azel groaned and shut off his phone. Perfect. Maybe he should just swallow his pride and take Harri up on her offer to give him an advance. It wasn’t like he could afford to not finish out the contract, no matter what Xara had told him. He needed the money too much.

And, especially after seeing her with her mom, Azel didn’t think he could walk out on Harri, even if he didn’t need the money. He didn’t want to just be one more person in her life who let her down. One more person who only stood by her when it was easy. No, he’d see this through to the end. He’d make sure she came out okay.

Though how he was going to do that… he had no fucking clue.

He sat down on his couch and stared at all the bills and statements haphazardly spread out on his coffee table. Maybe he should start by figuring out his own shit. Get his own life sorted out. He was never going to convince anyone that he was good enough for someone like Harri like this. He needed to be better.

So he gathered all his papers together and started to sort. It took him all night, all morning, and well into the afternoon to organize it all into bills that had been paid, bills he needed to pay, and bills that were past due. It was still staggering, seeing it all organized in front of him. But it felt… strangely better knowing the numbers. 

He’d always been a little afraid that tallying up the total would make it all feel too real and that, by avoiding it, he was somehow staying one step ahead and out of its reach. 

He was beginning to think it was more like being a man who didn’t notice he was drowning. And the longer he took to save himself, the worse he was making it on himself. Now he knew how far he had to swim. He just had to do it. And, while it still felt daunting as hell, it no longer felt insurmountable. 

And that was something.

By the time Xara texted him about his first shift at the shop, he’d done some online digging on the IRS website as well as figuring out what kind of payment plans were available for some of his default-ier dues.  

XARA: Az, you good with starting Monday? I can get you on schedule for the 10a-6p shift, if that works for you

Azel texted her back that it worked perfectly for him and thanked her again. He was about to start a real job. He had at least the beginnings of a real plan. It finally felt, for the first time in a long time, like things were looking up.

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Between the Lines - Part One

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CHAPTER EIGHT: BETWEEN THE LINES - PART ONE

This was a terrible idea. Harri had suspected it the second she’d agreed to do it. But, now that the moment was here, she knew it. Without a single doubt.

“So,” her mother said as she spread her cloth napkin across her lap, “how long have you two been seeing each other?”

They were all seated around a too small, glass table in the corner of her mother’s favorite upscale French bistro. Harri really hadn’t wanted to come, but Azel had pointed out that, if they really wanted to convince Nate, they needed to convince her family and friends. If they kept seeing and treating Nate as her boyfriend, Nate had no reason to stop either. So, despite her reservations and with extensive prepping, they’d come.

Azel, as if sensing Harri’s stress level, reached for her hand under the table and smiled at her mother politely. “Not very long. Only a few weeks but I know having the people in Harri’s life hear about us through other people was…” He paused, as if weighing his words carefully, before reciting the explanation they’d discussed ahead of time. “We didn’t think it was a good situation for any of us.”

Her mother sniffed and lifted her fork to pick at her Waldorf salad. “Well, I’m glad that it sounds as if neither of you are rushing into anything.” She looked at Harri pointedly, making her feel six years old again. “I’d hate for you to do anything you can’t take back.”

Harri’s hand — her whole body — tensed, as she felt all the complicated emotions she felt around her mother rise inside her. Shame. Anger. Disappointment. And a deep need to seek her approval and love. Again, she felt Azel squeeze her hand, a silent sign that, even if she didn’t think she did, he knew she could do this. He had her back.

So she straightened her shoulders and met her mother’s gaze. “I knew that you might be worried—”

“Might be?” Her mother scoffed behind a perfect bite of her salad.

“—and we wanted to put your mind at ease.”

“At ease!” Her mother’s incredulity made her voice literally crack.

“Yes,” Harri continued, working hard to keep her own voice calm in the face of her mother’s very un-calm tone. “I’m happy now. Happier than I’ve been in a long time—”

Harri shut her mouth at her mother’s raised hand. “I’m sure you are.” She leaned forward and laid her hand over Harri’s clenched fist. “I remember what it was like to be young and on the cusp of your real life.” She pouted and gave her daughter a patronizing look. “It can be scary to take that first step into adulthood, so if you need…” She looked Azel up and down, pursing her lips. “...time to sort yourself out…” She shook her head, her perfectly arranged hair not moving even a strand. “We’ll all be here for you, dear. You know that.” She sat back and picked her fork back up. “Just don’t keep us waiting too long, if you know what I mean.”

Nate. She meant Nate. Harri knew she meant Nate. Azel knew she meant Nate. Hell, the diners at the surrounding tables likely knew she meant goddamed Nate.

“Harri is an adult.”

 Both Harri and her mother turned to Azel. Her mother raised an imperious eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

Azel sat up straighter, his ill-fitting sport coat stretching over his broad shoulders and tucked-away, covered wings. “With all due respect, Mrs. Wren. But Harri is not only of age, she’s educated, successful. She’s the most responsible, most capable, smartest person I know.”

Harri stared at Azel. This wasn’t their script. Wasn’t the clean, pat answers she’d told him to say. Where was this coming from?

Azel ticked off his fingers. “She has a good job. A good home. She has friends and is always willing — sometimes too willing — to help out everyone around her as much as she can.” He met her mother’s steely gaze unflinchingly. Something she didn’t think she felt up to most of the time. “Even now, she arranged this meet-up — took time out of her busy life to do something she knew would likely be deeply awkward — to make you feel better.” He lifted their joined hands and laid them on the table, in front of her mother. Harri stared at their hands, feeling his strength, his confidence, his conviction in her, flow from him into her. It felt good. Better than anything she could have ever imagined. “By every metric that matters, your daughter is an adult, one who has proven she can make the best decisions about herself and her life.”

Her mother’s gaze narrowed on their entwined hands. “Maybe not every metric.” She held up her hands to cut off whatever either Harri or Azel might say. “Look, I’m sure you’re a perfectly fine…” She waved her hand dismissively over Azel. “But she is my daughter; I think I know a little bit more about what’s best for her.” 

“Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do.” That thought just kept haunting her. Did anyone in her life truly understand her? Did Harri herself?

She looked at Azel, at the surety radiating from him. Did he know her? It felt like he did. Or was it that he accepted her, however she was, however she needed to be in that moment, without judgment or reservation? Was it that he let her show him who she was, instead of expecting her to be someone else? 

“I just don’t think you’ve thought this through,” her mother continued. “I’m sure you both are having your fun now, but where is this going? Really? How does this all look in five years? Ten? Twenty?” She too precisely cut her salad into smaller and smaller bites. “How will your lives fit together? Do you plan to bring him to family events, like weddings and funerals? Are you prepared to attend work or social events together, where image matters? Where will you live? Will your landlord even allow someone like him on your lease? How will you get married? How will you even be able to attend services together, much less be married in our church? How will you have children? Is it even possible and, if it is, will they be normal or will they be…” She looked Azel up and down again. “I’m just saying these are questions you should have answers to.”

Harri didn’t know whether to stare slack-jawed at her mother’s rudeness or to grind her teeth in rage. “Like we said, it’s only been a few weeks; I don’t think we need to be asking those kinds of questions quite yet. But,” she said, feeling more than a little hurt along with being incredibly offended on Azel’s behalf, “I would hope that anywhere I was welcome, my partner — whoever they might be — would be welcome as well.” She stood up, tossing her napkin over her mostly untouched lunch. “Azel agreed to come here with me, so you could meet him, so you could see who he is outside the gossip being whispered in your ear, and hopefully feel more comfortable with all this.” Harri shook her head. She’d known this was a bad idea. “I would have hoped you could have met us with the same goodwill.” Harri should have known her mother wouldn’t. 

Thank God none of this was real. She hated putting Azel through this. Making him sit here being demeaned and dismissed by her mother. Over her. She couldn’t imagine what it would be like, if they were actually dating. To be sitting with the person you wanted to spend your life with and see this as your future. No one was worth that, certainly not her. 

“She’s the most responsible, most capable, smartest person I know.” He’d said such wonderful things about her. In a moment where she’d felt like none of those things, he’d said them with unwavering certainty. Seen who she wanted to be, who she tried very hard to be. She owed it to him to do her best to live up to that, as much as she could.

So she reached for her purse and pulled out several bills, enough to cover the tab and tip. “Enjoy your lunch, Mother. Please let me know, when you’re ready to try this again. Until then,” she said, reaching out a hand to Azel as he stood up too, “we have nothing more to say.”

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Brass Tacks - Part Four

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CHAPTER SEVEN: BRASS TACKS - PART FOUR

They walked in silence back toward Harri’s apartment. Azel’s wings itched to stretch out and wrap around Harri’s shoulders to shield her from the biting breeze. But he wasn’t sure that would be welcome, so he clutched them tight against his back, hunching his shoulders and holding himself as still as possible so he didn’t accidentally brush against her as they made their way.

“I’m sorry about all that.” Her words were so soft he almost lost them on the whipping wind.

He shrugged. Like she’d said to the servers. “It wasn’t your fault.” Wasn’t the first person to react to him simply existing like that. Wouldn’t be the last, he was sure. He shoved his free hand into his pocket. “That was kind of you to tip them.” It was incredibly kind of her to stand up for him too, but he didn’t know how to say that without… Crying? Falling at her feet? He didn’t quite know, but he was sure it would be embarrassing, for them both. 

She scoffed. “No one gets paid enough to deal with people like that.”

Azel nodded. Didn’t he know it. And it always seemed to be the lowest paid among them who were always forced to. “Which just makes your gesture mean more.” He was sure those two guys appreciated it. He knew he would.

Which made him feel somehow more conflicted. About everything. If he was honest, a part of him, the poor, struggling part, chafed at her ability — her easy, carefree, reflexive propensity — to, once again, throw her money around to make problems disappear. And to have her do so yet again at his expense… It made him feel greedily envious, and graspingly inadequate, and just… small.

Why had she done it anyway? Because that holier-than-thou hymn-hummer insulted him? Why did she care? She’d literally spiked him with holy oil; now she wanted to be offended that some pathetic pew-warmer said mean words to him. It didn’t make sense.

Neither did his reaction to it. Her anger on his behalf had been humbling and humiliating, yes, but also… hot as hell. She was the last person in the world — or any other for that matter — he would have ever wanted to see him being yelled at, being insulted and belittled, like that. He’d felt so helpless, knowing that there was nothing he could do or say that would change that stuffed pantsuit’s mind or make the situation better. So he’d just sat there, trying to make himself as imperceptible as possible. 

And then, out of nowhere, Harri had appeared, standing taller than her 5’ 2” stature should be able to, right between him and the big bad. Her furious indignation had lit her up from the inside out, making her look glorious. Like an avenging angel in cashmere and pressed pants. He hadn’t been able to look away from her.

And the taste of it! All that confidence and righteous indignation, like crackling lightning, was somehow both chilling and searing, yet so very sweet. It was satisfying in a way he’d never experienced before and couldn’t get enough of. He could have gorged himself on her defense of him forever, drank deeply of it from her fiery lips and licked its lingering taste from her skin, and still stayed hungry for it. For her. 

For someone so impossibly out of his reach, he had to remind himself. He needed to remember that. His fingers brushed Xara’s business card in his pocket. She’d been right; he should cut his losses and run. Take the job Xara was offering and forget this whole thing with Harri.

Except, as they approached her apartment, the look on Harri’s face, the way her gaze anxiously darted up at her ex’s window, fucking gutted Azel. She’d just goddamed smited that simpering piety pusher like it was nothing. Even if he hated it, it’d been audacious as hell to poison a literal demon one night then schedule a meeting with him a few days later. Woman was fearless.

A small smile teased his lips before a frown stole it. Yet that smarmy, khaki-wearing, minivan-made asshole next door scared her. It wasn’t right.

Azel kicked a fallen stick along the sidewalk leading up to her building. “Need me to walk you to your door?” It was the least he could do for her. And then, if he was smart, he should walk the fuck away and not look back. 

She shook her head. “No, I’ll be fine.”

She didn’t sound like she even believed that. But Azel simply nodded and held out the delivery bag. “Here.”

She wrinkled her nose at it. “Take it.”

He shook his head resolutely. “No free meals, remember? You paid for it.”

She sighed, her shoulders slumping tiredly. “I really don’t want it; I think that whole experience ruined me for breakfast foods.”

He snorted. Yeah, he got that, but he wasn’t exactly in a position to waste food like that. He let his arm drop to his side with a shrug. “I’ll pay you back then.”

She rolled her eyes. “You don’t have to do that. It’s just fucking pancakes, Azel.”

But it wasn’t and they both knew it, so he didn’t say anything.

“Sorry,” she said, pressing her fingers to her temple. “I didn’t mean to snap at you.” She shook her head. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

He shrugged. “It’s fine.” 

“No!” she said, her voice rising again. “It’s not.” She sighed and licked her lips. “I don’t want to be mean or cold or distant. I don’t want to scare servers or make scenes in cafés. I feel like I don’t even recognize myself anymore.”

It was strange. Because, yes, Azel knew that the Harri standing in front of him now — certainly the one who’d stood up for him in the café — appeared different than the lonelyhearts woman he’d met in that bar. But, having felt her emotions every step of the way — the longing, the betrayed sense of justice at the way people too often treat each other, the strength and resilience to have lived with that day after day and still keep going — she felt the exact same. She was simply acting on those feelings more. She was choosing to act on them differently. Allowing those secret inner emotions to rise to the surface, showing in her words and actions.

And, for the life of him, Azel would never see that as a bad thing. Trying to find a way to say all that, he sighed and tilted his head thoughtfully. “Maybe you’re not yourself anymore.” She jerked her gaze to look at him questioningly, defensively. “Maybe you’re not who you used to be, behaving and believing exactly as you did before. But who said you’re supposed to be the same person forever? Maybe you’re who you need to be in this moment?” 

She shook her head. “What do you mean? I’m supposed to be mean and cold and scary?”

Azel clutched the bag in his hands, feeling and hearing the paper bag crinkle as he fidgeted so he couldn’t reach out to comfort her like he wanted to. “I think you’re scared right now. You have an ex who won’t leave you alone, yet who also has left you alone, isolated you from and pitted you against your family and friends. Your whole life has been turned upside down. The people you thought you could trust don’t feel trustworthy any longer. The places and activities you thought were safe don’t feel that way anymore.” He scoffed, fisting the bag in frustration at wanting to — needing to — defend her with the same fervor she’d defended him. “You’re not mean, Harri; you’re mad. And you have every right to be.”

Her face went slack for a moment as his words whirred in that buzzing, fascinating, little computer in her brain. “But I don’t want to be.”

He clenched the bag in his hand so hard his talons pierced the thick paper as he fought the urge to smooth her furrowed brow. He didn’t understand why he wanted to make her feel better so much. He really shouldn’t — it wasn’t his place as her… employee, her fake boyfriend, whatever the fuck he was to her — but he needed to. “You don’t have to be. Not forever,” he told her softly. “Right now, everything in you is telling you to be wary, defensive, because, if you can’t tell who or what to trust, you can’t trust anything.” Was that why she’d poisoned him? “But, in time, you’ll learn how to have faith again, both in other people as well as in yourself.”

She smirked a little. “Is it weird to be getting advice about having faith from a demon?”

He chuckled, his stomach clenching over that tiny, light curve of her lips. “Yeah, I’m probably not the most qualified person on the subject.”

“I don’t know.” She shrugged, her expression widening into a genuine smile. “I really needed to hear someone say that; it was pretty perfect to me.” The relaxed, grateful look in her eyes eased a strange tension inside him that he hadn’t even been aware of until it was gone. “Thanks.”

He stared back at her, grinning himself, feeling almost dumbstruck by her words. By her, really. “You’re welcome.” He liked seeing her like this, lighter, freer. Because of something he‘d said. It made him feel… useful, powerful, wise. He blushed a bit at the fluttery thought. “Anytime.”

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Brass Tacks - Part Three

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CHAPTER SEVEN: BRASS TACKS - PART THREE

Harri had been hiding in the café’s restroom stall for far too long, spending nearly fifteen minutes just watching and listening to the many varied feet shuffle across the scuffed tile. She needed to leave. It wasn’t as if she could stay here all day. As it was, Azel might have already assumed she’d just ditched him and left.

Part of her hoped he had. She didn’t know how she was going to face him. 

God, she was pathetic! So paralyzed by the fear of looking weak or useless that that was precisely what she ended up being.

She practically jumped at a knock on the stall door. “Sorry, are you almost done in there?”

“Yes!” she yelped, leaping to her feet and straightening her clothes. “Sorry; I’ll be right out. Sorry.” Still feeling shaky, she straightened her clothes before walking out of the stall and toward the sink.

“Finally!” the woman sighed before rushing into the vacated stall.

“Sorry,” Harri murmured again, even as the water from the faucet drowned out her voice. She knew she ought to check the mirror. Ought to at least try to make herself more presentable. But she simply couldn’t bear to look herself in the eye. So she snatched a handful of paper towels and headed back into the café.

Only to stop short, when she saw Nate standing in the empty walkway in front of the restrooms. She stiffened, debating if she ought to just head back to her stall.

“Harri!”

Too late. She fisted the crinkled, slightly damp paper in her hands. “What are you doing here, Nate?” Was he freaking stalking her?

Nate frowned, looking hurt at her accusatory tone. “You know I like the coffee here.”

He did. As a caffeine-fiend and a coffee snob, they’d come to this café often, when they were dating. Whatever. “Well, hope you enjoy it.” She tried to move past him, but he stopped her with a hand around her elbow.

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly, “I know you need your space, but I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” He let go of her arm to duck his head down and shuffle his feet awkwardly in front of her. “It looked like you two were fighting.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake! Nate would have to be here for that, would have to witness her being — rightfully — chastised like some recalcitrant grade schooler. She clenched her jaw. “I’m fine. Great! We’re great. Everything’s great.”

Nate looked up at her doubtfully, knowingly. “I’m sure.” He tilted his head, placatingly. “But, if for whatever reason, you weren’t…” He shrugged. “I know we’re not what we were before, but you still mean a lot to me. And I hope you know that I’m always here for you, if you need me.”

She sighed and pressed her thumb against her throbbing temple. “Thank you.” The perfunctory, polite words felt like ash in her mouth. “Now, if you’ll excuse me. I should be getting back.”

“To him.” The quiet, harsh words sent a sharp, apprehensive shiver down her back.

“Yes.” It hadn’t been a question, but she warily answered him anyway.

Her eyes widened as she saw his fists clench, his knuckles flashing white with the force. The sight, aggressive and angry, was so different from the sweet, easygoing man she’d thought she’d known. Something hard and almost hungry flashed in his eyes. “If you ever need me to, I’ll take him on. I’m not scared of a demon like him.”

That was it! She did not need another hotheaded protector on her hands. “No, you definitely. Will. Not.” She shoved a pointed finger in his face. “Do you hear me? I neither want nor need anyone picking fights on my behalf.” What the hell was wrong with everyone?!

“I’m just trying to look out for you, Harri.” He grabbed her hand with both of his, patting her soothingly, looking and sounding more like himself. But it was as if Harri could still sense that other side lurking beneath his easy smile. “You’re too nice for your own good. You need someone to—”

Furious, she snatched back her hand. “I need everyone to stop acting like they know what’s best for me and let me decide for myself.”

Nate frowned, his eyes widening with worry as they looked over her. “Are you okay, Harri? Really?”

Jesus Christ! “I am fine!”

His frown just deepened as he continued on as if she hadn’t spoken. “Because you’ve changed. And not in a good way.” He studied her, his lips pulled into a grim line. “You’ve become… mean, cold, distant;” he said with a sad sigh, “everyone thinks so.”

Harri stopped short. Had she? She thought about her actions over the past few days. The way she’d talked to — the way she’d behaved with — Azel. Maybe something was wrong with her.

“I think it’s because of him.” Nate gritted out that last word like it was poison on his tongue. “You weren’t like this before him. You were never like this with me. He’s changed you. Made you into someone else.”

Then why, when she was around Azel, did she so often feel more honest with herself, even when she didn’t really want to be? Why did it feel like Azel was the one person she could, for better or worse, just be with? Maybe it was because of the contract, or because everything between them was fake, but she didn’t feel like she needed to try so hard to fit with him, to impress or gain approval from him. She didn’t need to be on her best behavior, be the best, most helpful, most polite and fun and sociable and compliant version of herself. She could just be herself. 

It was nice. Freeing. And she didn’t think she wanted to go back. Wasn’t entirely sure she could. So she leveled Nate with a cold stare. “Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do.” Maybe no one did. And, with that, she pushed past him and headed back to the table.

But, just as she entered the café proper again, she froze at the heavy tension gripping the space.

“Ma’am, I need you to lower your voice—”

“My voice!” a highlighted blond haired woman with a severely tight and high bun practically shrieked. “I will not lower my voice. I came here with my daughter to pick up brunch after church, only to find a devil seated not six feet away.”

The poor, frazzled server held out his hands, straining to calm and contain the situation. “Like I said, your order is almost done; how about I get you a cup of coffee while you wait—”

“I don’t want coffee;” her shrill voice rang out, “I want this hellspawn banished back where it came from.”

“Ma’am—”

She slammed her hand on the table, making Azel’s body twitch before the bound wings clenched tighter against his back. Thrusting an accusing finger in his face, she wagged it like a crucifix. “I know what you are. With that face and those…” She waved her hand at the whole of him. “…wings. Tempter demon.” She sneered and spat the words at him. “I won’t let you lead my daughter astray.”

Azel gave the woman an irritated, confused look. “Lady, I don’t even know who your daughter is.”

The woman’s face flushed a deep, furious red. “She is a pure, innocent girl and I know what filth like you—”

That was more than enough! Harri strode to the table and stepped between the woman and Azel, forcing the woman to step back. “What is going on here?”

The woman, suddenly robbed of her big, dramatic moment, looked flustered as she took in Harri. This close, with the woman’s pastel pantsuit and fashionably understated jewelry, she looked like any one of the nice, well-to-do church ladies her mother and aunt liked to brunch with. Right down to the confused, disappointed look she gave Harri, for not behaving like a carbon-copy-to-be version of herself. 

By all rights, she ought to be. Harri had grown up in this woman’s world. Had been raised by people just like her, who’d been raised by people just like them. Looking down at her own white linen, impeccably pressed shirt and perfectly pleated grey woolen slacks, properly paired with a simple strand of pearls, Harri knew there was a high probability the woman owned an almost identical outfit as hers. By all outward appearances, they were the same.

“Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do.” 

The phrase came back to her, straightening her spine. Shooting the woman her mother’s most censorious stare, Harri crossed her arms over her chest. “Is there a problem here?”

The woman’s lip wobbled, the movement seeking, signaling the need for, sympathy in what certainly appeared to be an ally. “This— this— creature was threatening my daughter.”

Harri raised an eyebrow. “How so?”

The woman clutched the tastefully jeweled gold cross dangling at her throat. “We were just here to pick up our brunch order on our way home from mass and that thing tried to seduce her.”

Harri fought a disbelieving scoff. She knew Azel well enough to know that accusation was bullshit. She narrowed her gaze and repeated, “How so?”

“I pointed out where the restrooms were,” Azel grumbled behind her.

How very seductive. Harri tilted her head to glare condescendingly at the woman, whose flaming cheeks looked ready to combust. “And?”

The woman all but stomped her foot as her arm flew out to gesture at a cowering preteen in a pretty, cozy sweater dress who was trying as hard as possible not to be perceived. “His very presence is a danger to someone at such an impressionable age.”

Harri rolled her eyes as the poor girl shuffled her feet anxiously. “Forgive me, but the only thing your daughter seems in danger of is dying of embarrassment at her mother’s atrocious behavior.”

A collective gasp seized the café, even as it wheezed out in a few stifled giggles. The woman’s already stony, likely botoxed face steeled. “How dare you!”

“How dare you insult my…” Harri’s mind stalled a second as it searched for the right word. Friend? No, that didn’t seem right on a multitude of levels. Fake boyfriend? Accurate, but hardly appropriate. “…date,” she settled on, strictly maintaining her tone in the hopes that it would help mask the slight pause.

“Date?” The woman’s lip curled in distaste. 

Another harried server rushed up to them with a large delivery bag. “Ma’am, I have your order now.”

The woman sneered and recoiled from the bag. “I don’t want that,” she snapped. “It could be contaminated.”

“By what?” the server asked, confused.

The woman motioned wildly at Azel. “Him.” She sniffed, disgusted, at Harri. “And his harlot.”

Harri stiffened, fury now overtaking her annoyance. “Excuse me?”

The first server grabbed the delivery bag and held it out to the woman, like a peace offering. “Why not take your order and—” 

The woman shook her head. “I’m not paying for that.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I’ve been coming here for years; I’m a very loyal customer but, if I had known that you serve their kind here…” She sniffed indignantly. “I am never coming back again. And,” she added, this time actually stomping her boutique-bought, appropriately low-heeled shoe, “I want my money back.”

The server’s face fell as he continued to hold the bag out, as if in desperate hope it could somehow end this interaction. “Ma’am, it’s already made and, I promise you, we follow every health and safety guide—”

“I am not paying for that,” the woman insisted. “And I’m not leaving without getting my money back. I want to speak to your manager.”

“Ma’am, I am the manager on duty and I—”

“Great!” she snipped, turning all her attention on him, much to his dismay. “Then I want a full refund. After,” she added, with an imperious sweep of her hand, “those two are escorted out.”

“Us?” Harri scoffed. “We haven’t done anything wrong.”

The woman looked down her disapproving nose at Harri. “You are wrong.”

Azel grabbed Harri’s arm as he stood up next to her. “We should just go; we were pretty much finished here anyway.”

That wasn’t the point. Harri gritted her teeth. She was sick and goddamned tired of being pushed around and belittled by people who thought they were better than her. “You said you’ll leave after you get your money back?” Harri scoffed. “Of course that’s all you care about.” Leave it to rich people to think they could nickel-and-dime their way to dignity. “Fine! I’ll pay for it.” She dug in her purse and slapped her credit card down on the table with a loud smack that seemed to echo inside the crowded café. “If it means I — and everyone else in this restaurant whose day you’ve ruined — never have to see you again, it’s well worth the price.” She turned back to the woman and leveled her with a ruthless glare. “Now leave.”

She and the oh-so proper church lady glared at each other, frozen for a long moment before the woman huffed and turned on her heels. She gruffly collected her daughter, who was still sputtering weakly about breakfast and bathrooms, and hurried toward the door. As the woman pushed it open, she shouted over her shoulder at Harri. “Your mother should be ashamed.”

Harri cringed, remembering that Nate was probably still spying on her somewhere in the café. Her mother very likely would be. And Harri was sure she’d hear all about it later. Joy. 

With a resigned sigh, she picked up her credit card, the action feeling silly after her grand, climactic gesture, before turning to the two servers. They jumped, their saucer-like eyes looking at her panicked, as if they thought she was going to yell at them too. She winced. Maybe she and that puffed-up woman in all her Sunday worst were more alike than Harri would like to admit. Swallowing hard, she forced a polite smile and a softer tone. “Let’s head to the counter, so you can ring all this up.”

The two nodded dutifully and meekly headed to the front of the store. As she followed them, she could feel the whole restaurant staring at her in utter and unbearable silence.

“You’ve changed. And not in a good way.” Nate’s disapproving words echoed back to her. “You’ve become… mean, cold, distant; everyone thinks so.”

What if everyone was right? What if she had been better before? When she’d bitten her tongue and just gone along with what other people wanted? When she’d always done what was expected of her and no one had been mad or worried or scared of her.

“Here you are, ma’am,” the manager murmured demurely, handing her a receipt. “I apologize for all that.”

Harri quickly signed the slip of paper before handing it over. “It wasn’t your fault. Add whatever tip you think is fair on the tab.” 

The manager shook his head as he took the slip. “You don’t have to do that.”

“You deserve it,” she said, knowing it was the very least they were owed. She nodded to the other server as well. “Enough for the both of you.”

“Thank you,” the other server said with a slight yet still nervous smile. “And here,” he said as handed her the delivery bag. “It’s our brunch special; we’re famous for it. And you did pay for it.”

“Thanks,” Azel said, taking the bag from him. “I’m sure we’ll enjoy it.”

Nausea swirled in her stomach at the idea of food at this moment. And though she was sure her mood soured it, she smiled at the servers again. “Thank you.”

They simply nodded. No You’re welcome or Please come again. Not that she blamed them. She let Azel take her by the elbow and lead her out of the café, feeling suddenly drained.

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CHAPTER SEVEN: BRASS TACKS - PART TWO

Azel watched Harri sign her name at the bottom of the contract, feeling absolutely none of the usual satisfaction or excitement he usually experienced. He just felt… tired. While most of the holy oil had worked its way out of his system, he still felt sluggish and irritable. Or maybe that was because he hadn’t been sleeping well. He couldn’t believe he’d been duped again.

And by her.

He glared at the top of her head as she initialed and signed and dated this and that. She’d seemed so sweet. Innocent. But, after decades of seeing humanity at their fallen, he really ought to have known better. No one was innocent. Especially someone willing to deal with a demon like him. Everyone was capable of cruelty and deceit and betrayal. All it ever took was a push. 

Azel shook his head. What was he doing here? She’d fucking poisoned him. Even now, he still could barely believe it. He would never have thought her capable of something like that.

But he should have. Fear made people desperate and willing to do all manner of things, cross all manner of lines. And he knew she had been scared, had felt her fear. Her fear of him, because of him. He’d known she was already terrified of one person in her life who couldn’t control his emotions, yet he’d still allowed his own to overtake him.

 He winced at the memory. In the end, that was why he’d agreed to meet with her. Because, in spite of everything, he couldn’t even blame her. He was a demon. She was a human. They were natural enemies. Cosmically designed to prey and persecute each other in an eternally endless cycle. She should be frightened of him. When he thought back to what he’d wanted to do to Nate in that moment — what a part of him still wanted to do to the weaselly waste of humanity — yeah, she’d had every reason to be afraid. He rolled his shoulders and tucked his hands in his lap, trying to look as non-threatening as possible.

Once she was done signing, she set down the pen and stood. “I’m s-sorry,” she stammered, “I need to— I need a minute to—” She shook her head and clutched her bag to her chest. “I’ll be right back.”

Quietly, he watched her hurry off toward the restrooms. And away from him. That was fine; he could probably use a moment to himself anyway. The deal was done. Now all there was left to do was fulfill his end of the bargain. Azel picked up the pen and reached for the papers.

Only to have them snatched out of his hands. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Azel looked up and blinked in shock. “Xara?” He frowned at the tall, lithe succubus now leaning over his table, the pages of his contract crinkling in her grasp. They’d known each other before the amnesty agreement had been signed. Had flown about in the same circles in Hell. Huh, he hadn’t known she was in the city now.

“Are you crazy?!” she hissed as she slid into Harri’s seat. “Doing deals with humans? In public?!” She shook her head, her long, black hair ruffling around her curved, red horns. “Do you want to be locked away for life?”

Azel reached for the papers only to have her yank them away. “It’s not what you think,” he assured her. “It’s not a demonic deal. It’s just for money, not her soul.” That kind of thing might be frowned upon, but it wasn’t illegal.

“Oh, and you think that makes it okay?” She scoffed and pointed a black tipped nail at him. “You think we live in a world that’s going to see your name on a dotted line and give someone like you the benefit of the doubt?” She waved the sheets at him. “You really think, if you’re caught, this doesn’t make trouble for all of us? That it doesn’t make all of us look more suspicious to them?” She shook her head again in exasperation. “I always knew you could be reckless, but what the hell are you thinking, Brimm?”

Azel felt his already scarlet face flush with embarrassment. “Look, it’s been hard out here, okay? No one will hire me. No one wants a demon working for them. And the few who do,” he said through gritted teeth, “know they can jerk me around, pay me shit, and throw me away on a fucking whim, because what the hell am I going to do about it?” He hung his head. “I need money, Xar. I need this.”

The words that had been burning in his soul for days — weeks, months, for goddamned years now — tasted like ash on his tongue. He hated feeling helpless. Choiceless. Stuck. This — what-the-fuck-ever this even was with Harri — was at least his choice. And that was more than he had most days.

“And she needs it too,” he continued. “She needs help and I can give it. It’s a win-win where no one gets hurt.” It was fine. Fine! It had to be.

She scoffed. “They don’t need us, Azel,” Xara stated. “Humanity’s made it pretty damned clear that they can barely tolerate us. If this goes bad, this kind of thing could damn our entire kind. Could cause a demon-wide ban topside. Is that what you want?” She narrowed her gaze at him scoldingly. “Do you want to go back to Hell?”

No. Of course not. Despite what he’d told Harri, yes, their bodies were made to endure the ravages of Hell, but incubi and succubi weren’t meant to stay in Hell. Hell was a place of torture and damnation. And, sure, Azel had played around with pain, when the situation had called for it, but always in the pursuit of pleasure. His kind was created to exist with humanity and the complexities of their desires. Trapped in Hell, he’d wither away surrounded solely by pain and despair. He couldn’t do that, wouldn’t survive that, much less ask the rest of his kind to do it too.

Xara sighed and shook her head. “Look, I know it’s rough these days. If you need a job that bad,” she said as she reached into her purse and pulled out a card, “come by my shop and I’ll see what I can do.”

Azel looked down at the ruby-colored card.

Madame Xara’s Little Shop of Develry

Where Your Pleasure is Our Business 

Azel’s eyes bugged. “You’re running a brothel?!” And she was questioning his life decisions. Was she kidding? How was this any better — how was it not infinitely worse — than what he was doing?

“It’s not a brothel,” she said. “You think the government would let a succubus open a business like that, much less let me hire other succubi to work for me?” She shrugged. “It’s a sex toy shop. We strictly sell things, not services. Toys, lingerie, lube, books, videos, that kind of thing.” She pointed to the description of the store on the card. “Totally above board; we get inspected and audited by the government regularly. Always pass with flying colors. I make certain we do; I won’t tolerate any funny business.” She sniffed proudly. “We are what we are and can’t change that, no matter how much the world wishes they could. This is a way for us to do what we do — know and fulfill people’s deepest, darkest desires — in a completely legal, if not wholly socially acceptable, way.” 

She tapped the card. “I won’t lie; it was hard going for a while there. I had to claw my way to be seen as legitimate and we still have to work hard every day to be successful, but we’re doing well for ourselves.” She gave him a sympathetic smile. “I can’t guarantee it’ll stay that way but, if you’re willing to work hard too, I can see about finding you a place with us.” She studied him. “It’s succubi run and staffed, but we might be able to use an incubus on roll too.” 

He took a breath, still staring at her card. He could do this. Be a part of something that felt real and stable. Something that couldn’t be torn from him at any moment for no reason at all. Something that worked with his skills and talents, rather than against them. He flushed hotly as he fought to blink back tears. After struggling so long to just scrape by, being simply given an opportunity like this seemed too good to be true. “You mean it?”

She nodded but raised an eyebrow before pushing the contract back at him. “But absolutely none of this. I cannot have anything like this anywhere near my business. Even the association could destroy us. Got it?”

He frowned as he stared at the now rumpled papers. “But I already said I would.” They had a deal.

“She signed the contract; you haven’t,” Xara pointed out. “No one knows better than you what makes a deal truly binding.” She shot him a warning look. “You still have options now. Don’t do something you’ll regret later.”

He gathered up the contract, staring at Xara’s jewel-toned card glinting against the stark black and white sheets. He had options now. Choices. He just had to pick the right one. Scratching his horn, he swallowed hard. “Thanks, Xara. For everything.”

She nodded. “In a world that wishes we’d just disappear, we owe it to ourselves to look out for each other, right?”

He blinked up at her. Right.

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CHAPTER SEVEN: BRASS TACKS - PART ONE

Trying to block out all the busy café sounds, Harri sat across from Azel, her head hanging down. She couldn’t even bear to look at him, crossing her legs and arms around herself to make herself as small as possible in the industrial, chrome-and-glass styled space. How could she face him, after what she’d done? As it was, it’d taken her about a week to contact him again, to see if they could meet. “First off, I want to say that I’m sorry. I was angry before, but I had no right to treat you that way.”

Azel huffed wordlessly, his arms tightly folded across his chest.

“A-and I totally understand, if you want to back out of our deal,” Harri continued. “I’ll pay you what I owe — for the full agreed-upon month, if you think that’s fair — but we can be done now. If that’s what you want.” Please, don’t. She wanted to scream, to beg, to plead with him not to leave. After the disastrous meal with Nate — or, more accurately, after Nate told Harri’s mother about the dinner they shared — everyone in her life began acting as if they were back together again. All the progress she’d made since leaving him was gone again. She didn’t know what to do.

Azel studied her, his black eyes ruthlessly scrutinizing her. His words clipped and harsh, he said, “I’m assuming nothing’s changed since we started all this. I still need money; you still need someone to keep your ex at bay. Is that right?”

Harri winced but nodded. 

“So we stick to that.” He pulled out a small sheaf of paper. “It’s the original contract, with all the stipulations we’d made before, as well as a few new ones.”

New ones? “Like what?”

He narrowed his gaze, looking foreboding and unmovable. “While we will meet at least four times a week, we will limit our time together to Nate-related activities.”

“Nate-related?” What did that mean?

“Either events he’s at or ones he’s sure to hear about.” He tilted his head at a knowing angle stiffly. “No point in our being together, if it’s not furthering the objective.”

Harri fought the urge to flinch at his words. They were so cold, detached. Like they were discussing some business merger or trade deal. Which, she admitted, they sort of were. “Okay.” If that was what he wanted, she supposed, that was for the best.

“And no more extraneous gifts. No unearned advances. No free meals. No offering to get or send or pay for things outside the parameters of the deal.” He shook his head. “You can reimburse me the cost of our dates, through the agreed upon methods, but, if it’s not pertaining to the contract itself, your expenses are yours, mine are mine. You’re paying for my time and my services, but I am not for sale.”

This time Harri did flush. Oh God, had she insulted him by flaunting her money in his face? That wasn’t what she’d intended. In pretty much every relationship she’d had since college, she’d always made more money than her partners, even her friends and family. It’d just become habit to want to help them out financially, to take care of them. Even splurge and spoil them at times. It was how she showed them she cared.

But, she supposed, she and Azel weren’t in a relationship. She stared at the papers in front of her. They were in a relationship contract. “I’m sorry.”

“Lastly, when it comes to Nate himself,” Azel continued as if she hadn’t spoken, “unless directly spoken to or about, I will not have any further involvement or interaction with him. He is your problem; I’m merely your means to a solution. You will deal with him as you see fit, without any more input or interference from me.”

Harri stiffened in her seat. She hadn’t expected that. Maybe she should have, given their fight. But she’d thought they were in this together. She could still remember how he’d encouraged her to stand up to him on the phone. They’d felt like a team.

But he was right; Nate was her problem. It wasn’t his responsibility to deal with him. She’d told him that herself. God, no wonder she was such a failure at relationships. She wasn’t even in a real one and she was already fucking it up.

“So do you agree to the terms?”

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CHAPTER SIX: HIDDEN CLAUSE - PART TWO

Azel raised an eyebrow at the delivery guy standing on his stoop with a crimson-colored box wrapped with a fancy gold ribbon. Did they deliver jewelry now? And why would they do it to him? Azel shook his head. “That’s not mine; sorry,” he said as he started to shut the door.

“Azel Brimm?” The guy’s voice barely wavered, despite the nervous look in his eyes. 

More than his name, that made Azel pause and give the guy his attention. “That’s me, but I didn’t order that.” Whatever it even was. 

“Order says it’s yours. Already paid for.” The flustered guy shrugged, before digging in his pocket. “Oh yeah, it came with a card.” He handed Azel a gold envelope with his name typed neatly on the front. Fancy, indeed. Azel opened the card and read the typed note.

Azel,

After last weekend, I just wanted you to know that I can’t stop thinking about you and the way you make me feel! Got these special for you. Hope you think of me while you eat them!

Harri

Harri got this for him? After a couple of days of radio silence, this was how she reached out? Well, she did like buying him things, especially food. But the note sounded… off. Didn’t quite sound like her. After last weekend? Did she mean their fight? The way he made her feel? What the hell did that mean?

Grabbing the box from the delivery guy, he inspected the thing like it might explode or something. Untying the bow and lifting the cover, he saw a row of ornate chocolate truffles. Expensive candy from some high-end chocolatier as communication? Yeah, that sounded like Harri.

“Never had to take a delivery to two different places before.”

Azel looked at him curiously. “Two places?”

The guy nodded awkwardly. “Picked it up at the store and brought it to the sender first before finally delivering it here.”

That sounded weird. Why would Harri do that? 

“Guess if I’d spent that much on chocolate, I’d want to inspect it first too.” The guy shrugged. 

Azel supposed that sounded like something Harri would do. He nodded to the guy. “The app cover the tip too?”

The guy looked surprised. “Nah, but I get a cut of the delivery fee.”

“Hold up,” Azel said, reaching for his wallet. “I got some cash.” He pulled out a few bills. “Here.”

“Dude!” The guy grabbed the money. “Thanks!”

Azel nodded. He’d worked a delivery job once, back when he thought he could afford a car. It wasn’t easy trying to make the pay and the costs of the job — gas, car maintenance, insurance, stiffed orders — balance out. Sometimes tips had been the only thing barely keeping him in the black. Figured minimum-wagers like them owed it to themselves to look out for each other. 

He studied the chocolates, tucked away in their swanky package, and headed back inside. Maybe this, like with her offering to get him dinner after their fight, was her way of apologizing or making up. But then why not say that in the card? 

He supposed Harri tended to have trouble expressing herself at times. She often preferred to say the things she knew others wanted to hear, rather than what she truly thought. Was that what this was?

Not knowing what to make of any of this, he sat down on his couch. Right where she’d spent the night, wrapped up in his blanket. Where she’d spent the morning happily working away in her own little, productive world. Where she’d freaked out over that jerk’s passive-aggressive post. Where she’d found the courage to delete it and claim back a bit of her control. 

Where he’d thrown her phone after calling that window-spying weirdo out. Where she’d yelled at him for doing that. Where she’d reminded him that he was just a job to her, an employee. Where he realized that whatever feelings he was harboring for her — which he didn’t even really understand — she wasn’t. She knew exactly what she wanted from him and it wasn’t… well, him.

Which was fine. That was what they’d agreed on. He stared at the pile of papers he’d placed the box of chocolates on.

Relationship Contract Between Harriet Cathrine Wren and Azel Brimm

He stared at the words until they blurred before him. That was right. They were nothing but a contract. Just one more deal in a lifetime built on them. He’d let himself get too close. He’d tricked himself into thinking it was safe to care about her because, for the first time for any of his clients, she wouldn’t be damned because of him.

He had to remember that didn’t make them friends, much less anything more. She was his client. And he was… the help. Nothing more.

Taking a steadying, steeling breath, he snatched up one of the truffles. Frivolous, fussy thing. The bougie boutique’s box of six specialty truffles probably could have paid for his groceries for the week. Bitterly, he crumpled the glitzy card, shoving it into his pocket, before popping the ostentatious sweet into his mouth.

Fuck, it was good. Probably the best thing he’d eat for a while. He let the perfectly tempered chocolate decadently melt and swirl over his tongue. The only thing ruining the lavish pleasure was knowing he hadn’t done anything to deserve it. This chocolate, like Harri herself, was too damned good for him. Too fine and high-tier for the likes of him. He was gutter trash from literal Hell who could only get his grubby hands on something this grand because of her.

The thought churned his stomach.

Or so he thought. Until the guilty, self-deprecating twinge turned into something sharp and hot. Gripping his gut, he raced toward the bathroom before falling to his knees in front of his toilet. In a series of tearing retches, he emptied his stomach into the waiting bowl.

By the time he was done, he felt lightheaded and weak, resting his head against the cold porcelain. What the hell? He fumbled to flush the toilet, wearily watching the mess swirl down the drain. He knew this feeling.

Like he’d told Harri, demons were made to survive unlivable conditions. It took a lot to hurt or damage someone like him. And he knew that piercing pain. Had felt it once before. 

Back before the amnesty agreement, he’d been on the verge of closing a deal with a man who’d summoned him to cheat on his wife. It’d been almost too easy of a job; Azel really should have been more suspicious. Cheaters, no matter how faithful or pious, didn’t summon demons simply to cheat. Even for gay men during the most prejudiced and persecuted times, there were easier ways to get the kind of sex and affection they wanted. Yet, Azel had been young, cocky.

He regretted, in the moment right before the man was about to sign his soul away, agreeing to the celebratory toast the man proposed. Azel had choked on the blessed wine. Almost died as the undercover priest chanted prayers over his curled-up, convulsing body. 

Azel clenched his jaw and forced himself to his feet. Gripping furniture for balance, he slowly and unsteadily made his way back to his couch. Flopping onto the cushions, he grabbed the box and examined the contents carefully.

A slight sheen coated each candy. Azel had just thought that was from the high quality, perfectly treated chocolate. But, this close, he could smell the slight piney scent of holy oil. Someone had blessed or annointed these before delivering them.

“Never had to take a delivery to two different places before,” the delivery guy had said. “Picked it up at the store and brought it to the sender first before finally delivering it here.”

Grinding his teeth together, he dug the crumpled note from his pocket and glared at it. 

Hope you think of me while you eat them!

He’d been poisoned. Been tricked. Again.

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CHAPTER SIX: HIDDEN CLAUSE - PART ONE

So much for simple.

Harri woefully watched the elevator signal each passing floor, dreading the moment the doors would open onto her own. She sighed and tried to gear herself up. Maybe if she ran like some desperate sprinter to her door, she could avoid Nate. She’d look like she’d lost her mind, but she felt like she had already so…

Holding her body so tense, she practically jumped when the elevator dinged as the doors opened.

To an empty, quiet floor.

Feeling silly, Harri shook her head. What did she think was going to happen? Did she think Nate would be out there, skulking in the hallway, waiting for her like some horror movie jump scare? She needed to get a grip. She needed to relax. Needed sleep in her own apartment, in her own bed, for a bit and forget about the past twenty-four hours.

But, before she did, she really ought to apologize to Azel. Again. She’d been frazzled and frustrated and she’d said some awful things to him. He hadn’t deserved that. He’d just been trying to help. It wasn’t his fault she’d made a mess of her life. He clearly had his own problems; she had no right to jump down his throat over hers. 

She’d tried to apologize at his place, had offered to order delivery — whatever food he’d wanted — to make it up to him but he’d declined. Of course he had. Because, despite what her aunt believed, food didn’t make everything magically better. So she’d left because, with things so awkward between them, it’d felt wrong to invade his space, his privacy, his home, like that. 

Maybe she should give him some time to cool down before reaching out again. Or maybe she’d send a gift with a note, saying she was sorry and that she’d give him space until he felt comfortable reaching out to her. Yeah, maybe she’d do that.

Rubbing her throbbing temple, she unlocked her door. And promptly screamed.

“Harri, calm down; you’re fine. It’s just me.”

She was most certainly not fine. Clutching her chest with one hand and the doorknob with the other, Harri glared at Nate. “What the fuck are you doing here?” She turned her attention to the items — her blanket, a pile of books, a sweatshirt, some fuzzy socks — laid out next to an empty box on her coffee table. 

He shrugged and shuffled his feet as he ran his hands through his hair. “I was just going to leave this all here for you.” God, she hoped he’d included her spare key as well. About to ask, she saw his lip quiver. “But, I don’t know, seeing it all here…” He swallowed hard as his breath hitched. “The idea of leaving the last bit of you — of us — behind…” His voice wavered, making her heart lurch at the hurt he was clearly choking back. 

Jeez, she felt like such a jerk. 

He turned away from her and sniffled. “Sorry, I know I should have left. You’re done with me. I know that.” His hand reached out to touch her blanket, his fingers stroking the soft, worn fabric. She swore she could see the memory of every time he’d ever wrapped her up in it or cuddled with her under it reflected in his teary eyes. “But I guess letting you go is harder than I thought it would be.”

Harri shut her eyes as she shut the door behind her. Damn it. She hated this. Hated how guilty this all made her feel. She could feel the instinctive apology, poised and ready on the tip of her tongue, but she refused to let it out. She was sad that he was sad, but she wouldn’t apologize for wanting to break up. She shouldn’t have to.

She just wished that didn’t make her feel petulant and selfish, hurting him like this just so she could feel... what? Free? She shook her head, trying to block the annoying voice in the back of her mind that said it would be so much easier for everyone if she simply took him back. That her happiness was a small price to pay for everyone else’s.

“Especially after…”

She looked up at him. “After what?”

“No one told you?” He looked surprised before frowning sheepishly. “I guess I did tell everyone not to say anything to you; I didn’t want to bother you. But I figured someone might let it slip.”

“Let what slip?” He’d told everyone but her. Told everyone not to tell her. “What are you talking about?”

Nate shook his head and walked away from her. “It’s nothing. I shouldn’t have said anything. It’s not your problem anymore.” He slumped his shoulders and gave her a sad, kicked-puppy look. “I’m not your problem anymore.”

For God’s sake! “What is it, Nate?” He knew that she hated when it felt like everyone knew and were talking about something she didn’t know. She hated secrets and gossip, doubly so when she felt both out of the loop and somehow also at the center of it all. 

“My company is being bought out,” he said with a resigned sigh. “They’re predicting a ton of layoffs. And you know how my boss has been looking for any reason to get rid of me for a while now.”

Yeah, Nate had been saying that for almost a year now. If it wasn’t for the fact that he and the company’s president had been part of the same fraternity, Nate was sure he’d have been fired a long time ago. Not because he was bad at his job but because their president liked Nate more than he liked Nate’s boss. He let out a heavy huff. “And, after you left,” he said softly, looking at her with pain etched all over his face, “I knew I wasn’t giving work my all, but it was so hard to just get up in the morning, knowing you weren’t there next to me, you know?”

Harri knew Nate’s work situation wasn’t fair and how stressed out the whole situation made him. Again, it wasn’t really an experience she could relate to. She might only be friends with Megan at work, but she was well-respected and valued. She’d never had someone have it out for her, like Nate did. And to have it all come to a head now… 

She shut her eyes. “I’m so sorry, Nate.” She sighed and looked him over. He looked haggard and she knew she, too, had a part in that. “When’s the last time you ate something? I was going to order some food, if you want some.” The eggs Azel had made for her felt like ages ago. They both could benefit from a good meal.

The hopeful look in Nate’s eyes made her wince. “Really? I’d appreciate that. It’s been hard getting used to cooking for just one person again.”

She pursed her lips and decided to ignore that comment and focus on the task at hand instead. “Chinese sound good?”

“Sounds great,” Nate agreed. “You know what I like.”

She did. Going to the delivery app, she entered their usual order. “Should be here in twenty minutes.”

“Thanks,” Nate said, taking a seat at her table.

“Of course,” she said, moving to get him a glass of water and a soda for herself. “It’s the least I can do.”

Nate narrowed his gaze on the glistening can in her hand. “Back to drinking all those sugary drinks?” He tsked. “I thought you’d said you were doing better without all the caffeine and empty calories.”

Harri gripped the can. She had said that. But mostly because she’d stopped drinking them around him and had preferred not fighting about it anymore. One of the first things she’d done, after their break up, was stock her apartment with all her favorite sodas, ecstatic she didn’t have to hide them at her desk at work anymore. 

“I just worry about your health,” Nate said over the rush of the sink as she filled his glass. “As someone who loves you, I only want the best for you.”

Harri felt her jaw clench. Why was she getting so irritated? It wasn’t as if they hadn’t had this conversation a million times before. She could recite it in her sleep. It was why she’d hidden her habit from him in the first place. Why was it grating on her so much now? She shook her head and forced herself to relax. “We weren’t talking about me; we were talking about you. And, as your friend, I really am sorry you’re having such a hard time.”

He sniffled and lifted an overly casual shoulder. “Well, on the bright side, if I do get laid off, I won’t be able to afford my rent anymore. Guess that solves all your problems, huh?”

Shit. “You know that’s not what I want.” She didn’t want to be with him, but that didn’t mean she wanted him to suffer. She handed him his glass. “I want the best for you too.”

He looked at her longingly as he took the water she offered. “I had the best.” He gave her a small, heartbreaking half-smile. “It’s true what they say: you never really realize what you have till it’s gone.”

Oh, Nate. She opened her can with a pop. “You’ll find someone else,” she said, shaking her head as she plopped down onto her own chair. “Someone better. Someone who wants what you want. Who can give you what you need.”

“I know what I need,” he said, leaning closer to her. “More than ever, when it feels like I’m losing everything, I’ve never been so sure of what I really want. And I’m willing to wait until you know it too.”

Goddamnit, Nate. 

Harri bit back a groan. Why couldn’t this just be easy? What did she need to do to get through to him? Well, seeing as she’d already agreed to it, it looked like she had all of dinner to try to figure that out. She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “I’m going to change,” she said. While she was glad she’d changed back into her clothes from last night before she left Azel’s place, she really wanted to put on something clean and comfortable. Unlocking her phone, she set it on the dining table. “Can you grab the food, if it comes before I’m done?”

Nate’s eyes slowly looked her up and down, as if remembering every time in the past year that she’d changed in front of him, rather than retreating to her bedroom. Harri decidedly ignored the heat in his eyes as he nodded. “Sure.”

Taking a tense breath, Harri took one last look at her phone before turning away, seeing it was still going to be eighteen long minutes until their order even arrived. Damn, it was going to be a long night. Maybe she should take a shower too, just to take the full amount of time, instead of coming back out to wait with Nate. She huffed as she shut her bedroom door behind her. Yeah, she really needed to learn that food really rarely ever made things better.

READ PART TWO

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