She blinked, then glanced down at her hands, and then at her body, and then at the halo around her head that shone as brightly as ever.
Hannah smiled, her eyes losing most of their sadness. “I think perhaps you should look in on your charge, Rachel. I suspect he has done something to surprise us yet again.”
* * *
The text message read, “Are you out with your girlfriend?” Alex chuckled at his phone in the front seat of Lorelei’s car. He always laughed when his mother, who allegedly despised texting, communicated this way.
“Who is that?” Lorelei asked idly. She wore one of the two different little black party dresses delivered by her personal shopper. Struck with indecision, she ultimately took both. That had also amused Alex. He liked it when Lorelei demonstrated ordinary behaviors. This dress was a touch more conservative than the other, but still racy. The black gloves that came up to her wrists were a very sexy touch.
He felt good about looking nice for her, too. He wore nothing overly formal, just slacks and a blue button-down shirt. He normally went to work like this. Still, the effort mattered. He liked the notion of finally enjoying an actual date with his newfound love.
“My mom,” he said, typing out, “Yes. I might stay with her this weekend.” He didn’t need permission, of course, but it was polite to let Michelle know.
Lorelei smiled. “She’ll be happy to have the house to herself. I imagine she and Eddie could use a day or two of privacy.”
Alex blinked. “Don’t you think that’s a bit soon?”
“How long do you think they’ve been making eyes at one another at work?” Her smile had turned to a sly and knowing grin. “Your mother’s a confident and intelligent woman with more than enough charm to wrap a nice man like Eddie around her finger. I expect by now she’d like to have a little fun with him.”
“She did kiss him goodbye the other night, but that was just on the cheek,” Alex thought aloud. He looked at Lorelei with amused suspicion. “Don’t you think that weekend shagging might be jumping the gun a bit?”
“Oh, you’re one to talk,” Lorelei laughed.
His phone buzzed with a reply: “Have fun. Be good. You are to call 30 min ahead of coming home at least. If I don’t pick up, keep calling. That is an order!”
Lorelei didn’t need to look at him. “I am something of an expert in these things, master.”
He tucked his phone back into his pocket. The amused suspicion in his eyes had doubled. “This is part of what’s so crazy, though,” he said, returning to their main topic of conversation. “You’re older and wiser. Centuries more experienced than I am. Powerful. Smarter. Yet you want me to make all the decisions.”
“For the most part, yes,” Lorelei grinned. “Consider exactly what you just said. I have all of these advantages. I’m also an unnatural presence in your mortal life. You must be free to do what you want, to live how you will. I am more than happy to advise you and provide all manner of assistance…but in the end, I would lose something precious if I began steering you in directions of my choosing.”
“What, like sleeping with other women?” Alex quipped.
“Well,” Lorelei shrugged, “I am a demon, after all.” She glanced over at him, satisfied to see him smiling at her joke. “What I want is what already is. We are friends and lovers. You treat me with respect and affection. Even within the bounds of that, we exchange power and dominance as it pleases us. We have it all. I know your desires, and I am comfortable with all of them-even those you deny. I don’t necessarily want you to do anything or change anything between us so much as I long for you to acknowledge what I am and enjoy it. So then the question becomes,” she grinned slyly, “what do you want…master?”
* * *
“I’ll have the New York steak, medium well, and I guess I’ll go with the potato and grilled vegetables. Thank you.”
“I’ll have the light garden salad.”
Alex looked across the small candlelit table at Lorelei with a raised eyebrow. “You’re not seriously gonna do that to me, are you?”
“Hm? Do what?”
His voice was light with humor. “You wait for me to order a big dinner and then you order a tiny little salad so I’m sitting here eating like a pig in front of you? Isn’t that like every stand-up comic’s rendition of a first date?”
“You wanted a real first date. I told you. I don’t eat much,” she explained with feigned innocence.
The waiter, not wanting to presume anything, stayed where he stood with a curious and amused look on his face.
Alex snorted. “You don’t have to try so hard to fit the stereotype.”
She relented, sharing his grin. Lorelei’s eyes turned up toward the waiter. “I’ll have the shrimp scampi instead,” she said, adding with a teasing glance toward Alex, “but only the half order.”
It was an expensive, sophisticated restaurant with a live piano player and without prices on the menu. Many of the patrons dressed to impress. Ultimately, though, the couple hardly noticed the scenery.
He reached out across the table with one hand until Lorelei’s gloved fingers interlaced with his. “We are different now,” she observed. “Can you feel it?”
“Yeah. I can. Y’know, when you look at me like that it hardly matters if you’re wearing clothes at all.”
Lorelei’s grin only tightened. “That’s the idea.”
Alex tilted his head curiously. “I’ve got to ask…you’re so interested in me, um, being with other women.” His voice dropped a bit and he glanced around. They had plenty of space between them, and the restaurant had the sort of plush décor that seemed to absorb sound. “Is that actually better for you than being with me yourself?”
“No,” Lorelei said, shaking her head subtly. “No, it is not.”
“Then why not keep me all to yourself? You know you could. All you have to do is ask. I can control myself.”
“I know,” Lorelei said. “You could, and you would. That is part of why I encourage you. I feel no jealousy in part because I know I have no cause. But consider, my love…” Her voice fell as well, skillfully measured after endless experience with intrigues and flirtation. “Which position do you prefer best? Do you prefer me on my knees? On my back? Bound?” There was a wink in her voice. “Surely one is better than the rest. You can have me however you want. So would you choose one way to the exclusion of all the others?”
“It’s that good?”
Her grin turned naughty. “Oh, yes, my love. It is.”
* * *
“They can’t take their eyes off one another,” observed Frank. He sat at a table not far away, clad in his best suit and accompanied by his wife for a private anniversary dinner. “Were we ever like that?”
Peggy glanced over her shoulder again, hoping not to look too obvious but quickly realizing that it didn’t matter. The pair were wrapped up in one another’s gaze. “She’s got to have ten years on him at least,” Peggy remarked, “but yeah. We probably were.”
As they spoke, a waitress came over with their plates, both of them covered.
Peggy looked back at Frank knowingly. “You can stop staring now,” she said, and smiled at his apologetic expression. It was good to put him on the defensive from time to time. “I’m a little cold. Do you think you could go grab my shawl out of the coat check, honey?”
“Sure, baby,” Frank stammered. He stood without hesitation.
As he left, however, Peggy glanced toward the eye-catching couple again…but the waitress blocked her view. Her eyes turned up toward the stunning young blonde, whose words utterly failed to match the innocent beauty of her face.
“You made a promise before God to forsake all others for your husband, who still loves you,” the waitress deadpanned. “Go home with him tonight. Make love like you mean it. Stop blowing your personal trainer behind his back like you did this afternoon. And quit fantasizing about his dick,” she added, tossing her head back to indicate the male half of the attractive couple behind her. “The first blonde that’s gonna ride that is me.”