41. Edgar

41

EDGAR

A s they made their way to the elevator, Edgar tried to imagine what Angelica looked like. For some reason, he didn't think she was anything like Frankie.

Maybe he was thinking about a character named Angelica he'd seen in a movie who was blond and curvy, but he didn't remember it. It was just what his mind conjured when he thought about her.

The truth was that he didn't have a preference for a specific hair color or even body type. As long as the female was attractive and fun to be with, he was game.

Well, he might have a slight preference for strong-willed females, but perhaps he should compromise and choose someone who was more easygoing.

After all, Jasmine had a strong, independent personality, and it hadn't worked out between them.

"I feel like I'm in a movie," Jasmine said once they got into the elevator. "Only weeks ago, I was living my mundane life, thinking that the best thing that would ever happen to me would be landing a major role, and now I'm living among immortals and gods and falling in love with an alien prince."

He arched a brow. "Falling in love?"

Only a few days ago, it would have hurt hearing her say that, but Edgar had made peace with their breakup and was actively looking for a new partner, so it was all good.

Jasmine shrugged. "I know it's too soon, but I can't help it. Ell-rom is just so sweet."

"Sweet?" Edgar felt like a parrot, repeating what she'd said, but what could be sweet about a half-Kra-ell prince who had been raised as a celibate monk?

"Yes. He's sweet. Innocent. I find it endearing."

He would never understand women. He was a young immortal, but he was ancient in human terms, and he knew that sweet and endearing were antonyms to sexy and desirable when referencing a male.

The elevator doors slid open, and as they walked up into the building's elegant lobby, Edgar smiled and waved at the human security guards. "Good afternoon, fellows. How is it going?"

"Good. It's a slow day," said the one whose name tag proclaimed him as Officer Roger Brown.

When they passed them, Edgar leaned to whisper in Jasmine's ear. "It's funny. They have no clue who I am."

"They don't? I thought that they worked for the clan."

"They do, but they don't know who their employer actually is, and they have no idea that there are additional levels below the parking garages. They think that we came from one of those."

Jasmine cast him a sidelong look. "I thought that they were part of the clan."

He laughed. "Have you ever seen an immortal who looked to be forty-something and had a beer belly?"

"Yeah, I did. The butlers. Sans the bellies. They are stocky and short but not fat."

He'd forgotten that she had seen Okidu and Onidu on the cruise.

"They are…well…they are immortal but not in the way we are."

"What do you mean?"

He was about to answer, but then they passed the wall of greenery that separated the café from the rest of the lobby, and Frankie greeted them with frantic arm waving.

"Over here!"

As if they could miss her.

"I brought Edgar," Jasmine stated the obvious. "I hope it's okay."

"Of course." Frankie rose to her platform-clad feet and hugged Jasmine and then Edgar. "I've missed you. Why haven't you come to hang out with us?"

Edgar wasn't aware that they wanted him to come, and he wasn't sure that Frankie meant it.

"I have a job to do." No one had required him to fly them anywhere recently, but his job was to be on standby for when he was needed. "I've just seen your guy and his buddies. They are still slaving over that equipment, hoping to find the black box."

Frankie rolled her eyes. "Tell me about it. Between that and my Perfect Match training, Dagor and I barely see each other. As you know, it's difficult for a newly mated couple to be apart."

Edgar grimaced. "I wouldn't know. Did you order already, or are we waiting for your cousin to arrive?"

"I didn't order. I grabbed a table first. But now that you are here, I can go. What would you like?"

Edgar gave her an incredulous look. "Don't even think about it. I'll order for us. Tell me what to get for you and for your cousin."

"You are such a macho guy." Frankie rolled her eyes. "As if I can't place an order by myself."

"I'm sure you can, but do you want to stand in line in those shoes?" He looked down at them pointedly.

They were pink, glossy, and at least five inches high. He had no idea how she even managed to walk in them.

"Good point. I'll have a grande latte with skim milk and a scone. Angelica will have the same, just with soy milk. She's lactose intolerant."

He turned to Jasmine. "What about you?"

"I'll have what Frankie is having. I'll help carry things when they fill the order."

"That's okay." He patted her shoulder. "I'll manage."