Part 6 (1/2)
At least, that's what I was telling myself.
”Speaking of calls,” Evie went on, ”Mia wants to set up a meeting for Monday.”
Mia van Horowitz was a Jewish princess turned tattoo queen who'd come to DED searching for the perfect man-namely one who could keep it up and satisfy her nympho tastes. She was very human and very scary and she wanted a man who could do it at least three times in one night.
”She says that she might have to lower her standards since we haven't been able to hook her up,” Evie added. ”She sounded really depressed, so you might want to give her a buzz. Also, don't forget to touch base with Mary Weathers-she's the florist at the Waldorf. She claims one of our guests stole three dozen begonias and she's sending us a bill.”
The news just kept getting better and better.
”It couldn't be one of our guests.” I racked my brain for a mental of someone-anyone-absconding with several vases filled with flowers and came up with nada.
”Maybe it was someone from that tofu convention that was going on downstairs, ” Evie offered. ”Heaven knows they'll eat anything green.”
”Good point.” I reached for the phone and Evie shook her head. ”You might want to wait until after your seven o'clock.”
”I have a seven? Since when?”
She glanced at her watch. ”As of forty-five minutes ago. She called and said she needed a date this very minute, so I told her to come right over.”
”I think I love you.”
”That's what they all say.” She winked. ”Should I show her in?”
I nodded and pushed to my feet just as a tall, voluptuous redhead walked into my office. She was the quintessential party girl in a silver lame mini-dress, knee-high silver boots and an excited expression.
”Miss Marchette?”
I smiled. ”Call me Lil.” ”Awesome.” Her voice was as perky as the double Ds outlined by her fitted dress. Bright green eyes rimmed in silver liner bounced around my office. ”Wow. This place is fan-frickin'-tastic.”
”Thanks. And your name is?”
”Tabitha. Tabitha Gallows.” She perched on the edge of a nearby chair. Her fingers twitched and her feet tapped. She looked ready to bounce back up at the first sign of a Katy Perry song.
I could practically feel the energy rolling off her.
Feel being the key word.
I couldn't read a d.a.m.ned thing. Her eyes sparkled so clear and glistening, yet I couldn 't see one itty-bitty thing about her.
Which meant she wasn't the bubbly, peppy human she appeared.
My nostrils flared, but other than a spritz of Very s.e.xy and the faint aroma of a recent manicure, I smelled nothing but my own eau de cotton candy.
Nix a born vampire.
She wasn't a made vampire either. I realized that when she didn't flash a pair of fangs and try to hump my leg in the first five seconds.
Or a werewolf (she didn't blink much less gaze longingly when I offered her a leftover burger Evie had left in the mini-fridge).
Or a demon (no cursing or vomiting when I accidentally spritzed her with holy water-I had oodles of the stuff left over from Evie's recent possession).
Which left me wondering What the f.u.c.k?
”A warlock,” she said, as if reading my mind.
”You're a warlock?”
”No, silly.” A brilliant smile parted her full lips. ”I'm looking for a warlock.”
”So you're a witch?”
”Hardly.” Before I could question her further, she s.h.i.+fted the conversation back to finding the perfect Mr. Magic. ”He has to be tall, dark and handsome. But not too handsome. He should have a few flaws. Eyebrows that are a little too bushy and a quarter - inch scar running across the left side of his chin. And one dimple cutting into his right cheek. And he has to have brown eyes. Dark brown with a hard gleam. No beard or mustache. Short hair. Six-two.”
”Sounds like you have someone in particular in mind.”
”No, not really.” Laughter bubbled past her lips. ”Just my own imagination at work. But I'm sure there's a real man out there who fits the bill.” Expectancy lit her gaze. ”Have you seen him?” Silence stretched between us for several long seconds as she eyed me and waited for a reply.
”Without a doubt,” I finally said. ”I have over two thousand eligible bachelors in my database.” Give or take 1,488. ”I'm sure one of them will fit the description to a T.” I settled behind my desk and reached for a pen. ”But before we get ahead of ourselves, the first thing we need to do is get to know the real Tabitha. Your likes and dislikes. Your hopes and dreams.” I gave her my most convincing smile, along with a mental You should take the ultra-deluxe package.
I know, I know. She was obviously an Other and she was looking for a member of the opposite s.e.x. But hey, it couldn't hurt to try.
”Why don't you get started filling out this questionnaire? ” I pulled a form from my bottom desk drawer, attached it to a clipboard and handed it to her. ”The best matches are tailored to each individual, so the more I know about you, the better.”
”You don't need a form for that. I love dancing and parties and having fun. End of story.”
”No hobbies?”
”I do like to shop.”
I smiled and made a quick note. ”Shopping's good.”
”I like watching E! and I'm addicted to Oxygen's Bad Girls Club and I never miss Fas.h.i.+on Week.”
”Just jot it all down and I'll see what I can find for you. Evie mentioned that you need a date fast. Is there a special event coming up?”
”Definitely.”
”A wedding?”
”Not really.”
”Engagement party?”
”No.”
”Office get-together?”
”Something like that. If I don't have my warlock with me by midnight next Friday, I'm getting fired.”
”That's urgent, all right. Don't worry, we'll find you someone,” I said with the utmost confidence, despite the nagging voice that kept reminding me about Esther and last night's fiasco and the fact that I was this close to bankruptcy and a Moe's lime green polo s.h.i.+rt.