***
Just over a month after I’d shown up dejected on my brother’s front stoop, I got a call from my assistant, asking if I was ready to come back to work.
Apparently there was more mischief afoot, right near my brother’s place. I’m not much for signs, or for the universe trying to deliver messages, but I felt that was too much of a coincidence to ignore. I’d solved Roxanne’s problem in a heartbeat, there was nothing to say I couldn’t handle something bigger. My confidence wasn’t quite what it had been just six weeks earlier, but they don’t say, “fake it ‘til you make it” for nothing.
I told Betty to set up an appointment for the end of the week and went out to tell Julian and Sarah I’d be leaving.
“You’re okay?” Sarah asked, rubbing a hand over my arm as she rounded the bar into the kitchen. I thought about it and nodded when I was sure. Time away from home had done me some good. The puppies had done me some better.
Julian jerked his chin at me as he chopped vegetables.
“What’s the case?”
“Not sure, yet. It’s around here, though. I’ll probably meet the clients, see what’s going on. Who knows, I may be back in a week or so if it’s really tough to crack.”
“You should bring your girlfriend.”
“My what?” I asked. Even as the words were through my lips, I realized what he meant. Julian grinned, wagged his eyebrows at me obnoxiously. I wondered if I looked as ridiculous when I did the same but decided I had the bone structure to pull it off. Especially since I had full control of my faculties and could actually grow my brows back in again.
“Gwen,” Julian clarified, just to really rub it in.
“She’s not my girlfriend. She’s just a woman I haven’t slept with.”
“You know who I hadn’t slept with back in the day?” Julian asked. I rolled my eyes, already knowing what he was getting at.
“Who?” Sarah asked, playing along.
“Sarah, that’s who. I hadn’t slept with Sarah and then I did and now we’re married.”
“It’s a good thing for you I’m leaving,” I said, letting the edge of a growl coat my words. Before we could come to blows, Sarah elbowed Julian in the ribs lightly, shutting him up.
“Does Gwen like cupcakes?” Sarah asked, tapping her fingers on a cardboard box full of mini-cupcakes. I shrugged, tried not to think about the fact that I’d watched Arthur go down on cake like it was Ron Jeremy.
“I don’t know. Why should I know?” I didn’t want to know anything about Gwen in that moment. Sure, harassing her is a past time I usually quite enjoy, but the idea of being near her in the moment filled me with dread. The last time I’d seen her had gone pretty poorly for us both. “I mean, I think I’ve seen her eat sugar some time.”
“Well, bring her some of these.”
“Why?” I asked, unable to explain why I was so irritated by the suggestion. Sarah slid the box across the counter.
“Just do it.”
You don’t say no to a werewolf mother. I had no choice.
***
Sitting at a stoplight, I glanced over at the box Sarah had sent with me back to Seattle. For whatever reason, my sister-in-law had decided to bestow a dozen mini-cupcakes on my work neighbor. Tapping my left foot as I tried to figure out Sarah’s game, I poked a finger under the lid, lifted it. The cupcakes were cute and delectable. If Gwen were any fan of cake—which I knew she was—she’d probably love them.
I got a honk as I sat staring at the cakes and I looked up, startled. Grumbling at my reflection in the rearview, I hit the gas, got the hell out of the way, and sped toward home. I wasn’t sure how long the cupcakes would hold but I certainly didn’t want to bring them to her any time soon.
Harassing Gwen usually—well, always—ended in rejection and I wasn’t entirely sure I could handle that in my state. I felt scores better than I had in the days after everything had gone down but the very idea of hitting on a woman still made me feel vaguely greasy inside. Even having Roxanne squeeze my arm had made my belly flop like a beached whale.
Sighing, I reached into the box, yanked out a cake and popped it whole into my mouth, ignoring the fact that the wrapper was still on. Sarah made damn good cupcake but Gwen didn’t have to know that Sarah hadn’t only sent her eleven.
***
As I made my way into The Internets, I glanced over, noticed Holly behind the counter. She froze when she saw me, her expression opening up with shock. It was better than pity, I supposed, but not by much. I winked, slipping on the skin of a man who hadn’t a problem in the world, and kept on walking.
Somehow eleven cupcakes had narrowed to one but that worked out. I’d found a baker that had been able to fashion me a single, tiny box that fit the cake perfectly. It’d cost me fifty bucks, but I’d gotten the guy’s phone number just by being me. I don’t swing that way, though, so it did me no good except to boost my morale.
Ironically, it turned out I was going to need a bit of blackmail to get Gwen to help me with the case I’d accepted. If she liked the cupcake, I could promise her more, maybe even throw in talk of the puppies and of Julian’s delicious dinners.
Chloe seemed convinced it was a done deal, so I hadn’t bothered looking for a backup plan. The way Gwen’s shoulders twitched as I got close made me start to reconsider my plan. Usually the sight of her having to deal with my presence makes me feel a vengeful sort of pride that I didn’t entirely understand. Today it made me a little melancholy.
“Ladies,” I said, slipping up next to them, still wearing a false smile. Chloe smiled in greeting, knowing what was up, and why I was about to do the unthinkable. She didn’t even blink when I dropped to one knee in front of her best friend, held out the cupcake box like a ring, and looked up into her green eyes.
“Gwen Arthur, will you marry me?”
***
Want more of Mel? Keep an eye out for Gwen’s third book, Cold Feet! And check out the rest of the Empathy in the PPNW series, Mixed Feelings, Bone to Pick, and Business With Pleasure at https://OliviaRBurton.com!
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