17. Teresa

Teresa

I watched Flora and her friend as they caught up on each other’s lives. Julia gasped when she heard about the car accident and the threatening note, seeming genuinely horrified about the news. I didn’t sense any duplicity in her. Vamps weren’t as good at sussing out lies as some of the shifters were, but it was still obvious to us if people’s heart rates increased, or they had other indications of lying like avoiding eye contact.

As they talked, I watched as Boris and Wanda pretended to be a couple a short distance away. Wanda was mated with rock star Tasha Blue, someone she’d fallen for while in charge of Wanda’s protective detail. Now that I thought about it, she and Tasha had a lot of similarities to my situation. Tasha was one of the most famous musicians in the world. With more money than God, she was about as opposite from Wanda as she could be. But they’d somehow been able to work it out. Although they hadn’t gotten married they were officially mated and in a committed relationship.

If they could work things out, maybe me and Flora would be okay. Once I eliminated the threat against her of course.

“So Teresa, tell me about yourself.”

Julia’s attention turned to me, her eyes dancing between me and Flora like she suspected there was more to our relationship than employee and client. When I glanced to the side, a flush rose up Flora’s face, making Julia smirk knowingly at us.

“There’s nothing to tell,” I said gruffly.

“Where are you from?” Julia asked. “Did you grow up in Seattle?”

I shook my head. “No, I grew up in Wenatchee,” I said, referring to a town in northern Washington. “Then I joined the Army when I turned eighteen and did my twenty before moving here for my job.”

“Your twenty?” Flora asked in confusion.

“You’re eligible for retirement if you do twenty years in the service,” I explained. “You get retirement income and much better benefits than veterans who were in for shorter tours,” I explained.

“So you’re… forty-something?” Julia asked.

“Forty-four,” I confirmed.

“Six years older than Flora.”

“And you,” Flora reminded her, giving her a look that clearly threatened harm if Julia didn’t back off.

Julia ignored her.

“Are you single?” Julia asked.

“Yes,” I said shortly.

“I assume you like women,” she said, giving Flora a significant look.

“I’m a lesbian,” I confirmed.

“Interesting. Our Flora here is also a lesbian.”

I’d picked up on that the first time I met her, although I couldn’t say why. Maybe it was the mate bond.

“Julia stop!” Flora sent her a glare that just made Julia laugh.

“Okay, okay, I’ll back off,” she said. “But I just want to be clear. Flora has been my ride or die since we were six years old. You’d better take good care of her.”

“I will,” I promised.

“Don’t hurt her.”

The message there was clear. Julia said, ‘don’t hurt her’ not ‘don’t let her get hurt’. Even though she was a full human, Flora’s best friend was clearly very perceptive.

“I won’t,” I promised. And I meant it.

The rest of the work week passed uneventfully. I went back to sleeping in my own bed, as much as it killed me. Flora hinted the first night that she’d slept better with me by her side, but we both knew that I was here to do a job and needed to avoid distractions.

My mate was the biggest distraction though. The more time I spent with her, the more I liked her. Despite her fascination with all things girlie I enjoyed spending time with her. She was hard working, smart, and much funnier than I expected, plus she made a mean Rice Krispie treat, although I would never admit how much I liked the marshmallow filled treats. I never lost sight of the fact that I was here for a job, but I was having so much fun with Flora that it didn’t really seem like work.

At least until Friday night.

“You want me to go with you where?” I asked in horror.

“We’re going to get a manicure,” Flora repeated. “I go every other week.”

She waved her perfectly polished red fingernails.

“And no offense but your cuticles are a disaster.”

I looked down at my hands in confusion. “Huh?”

She stepped closer, pointing at the tissue around my nails. Cuticles presumably. I tended to pick at them when I was bored, which was often.

“We’re going to get those cleaned up and add a touch of polish.”

When I opened my mouth to argue she said, “You can get clear polish if you really want to,” she reassured me. “Although it would be a waste. Now come on. Kim promised she’d work you in with me.”

Kim, as it turned out, was a tiny Vietnamese lady who was somewhere between fifty and ninety years old. I’d had drill sergeants in the Army who were softer than this woman.

“You sit,” she ordered, pointing to chairs she’d set up side by side for me and Flora.

Flora immediately stuck her fingers into two small bowls of scented water on the table in front of her. I was considering if I should do the same when Kim barked, “Give me hand!”

She grabbed my hand and examined my nails critically.

“Is no good,” she said, shaking her head like I was a grievous disappointment. “You must stop pulling on skin!”

Next to me, Flora stifled a giggle.

A younger Vietnamese woman came by, offering us both a flute of champagne. I was surprised by how good it was. Of course this was a super fancy upscale nail salon, not one of those drop in places you saw in strip malls.

Then I did something I never imagined I would do. I got a manicure. And to my shock, I didn’t hate it.

Chastising me the entire time, Kim trimmed my ragged cuticles, smoothed the rough surfaces of my nails, trimmed them nice and short the way I liked them, and then somehow convinced me to let her try “a nice peach” shade of polish on my fingers.

The polish was a few shades darker than my skin, just enough to tell that I had a manicure if someone looked but not enough that it was super obvious. By the time she was done, the skin of my hands and wrists were soft from the soaking before the manicure and the lotion application and hand massage afterwards.

I watched as Kim worked on Flora’s nails, the two of them chatting like old friends. Kim was just as rude and bossy with my mate, but there was an undertone of affection that made me like the old Vietnamese woman even more.

After giving Kim a generous tip equal to one hundred percent of the price of our manicures, Flora gave her a hug and we headed out to where the town car was waiting for us. I was so distracted by the experience that I totally forgot to scan the vehicle for explosives.

“How committed are you to this car service?” I asked Flora as we entered the house after our manicures.

She shrugged. “I used to drive myself – at least to work – but my car is still getting fixed.”

“I’m going to get us a car from Sapphic Security,” I said. “They’re bullet proof and have some high tech features that will keep you safe. I’m actually disappointed that I didn’t think of it earlier.”

I didn’t think of it earlier because I was distracted by my mate. I really needed to tell Lois about my relationship to Flora, but I knew that my boss would push for me to get off the case or at least have another agent here. Selfishly, I wanted to keep this alone time with Flora.

I just hoped I wasn’t making a big mistake.

Then something happened that made it impossible to keep my feelings a secret anymore.