Real Vampires Have Curves
Page 18

"I'll go up." Freddy looked down at the clothes in his arms. "Mother thought you might want these." He looked around. "I don't see a men's section, but these are good quality, hardly worn." He made a face. "From my zoot suit period."
"You've got to be kidding!" The customer at the register whirled around. "My husband would kill for a zoot suit." She looked him over. "And he's about your size."
Freddy grinned and nodded toward me. "Bring him back, I'm sure Ms. St. Clair will have it ready to sell by the end of the night."
"You bet I will." I took the suits into the back room and hung them on the spare rack there. Freddy followed me, nodding to a sulking Valdez. My dog didn't speak, not with customers still fairly close by. I'd warned him about that too many times to count.
"I heard you had a date last night. Damian?" Freddy fingered a fox collar I'd picked up from a fellow vamp cleaning out her closet.
"Another reason you need to go upstairs. Damian's up there too, with Flo, but Blade knows Damian and I had a little"—I grinned—"fun last night. Of course Damian's doing everything he can to rub it in. As if Blade really cares who I have fun with." Oops. My grin slipped and unfortunately I sounded bitter.
Freddy smiled. "You deserve some fun and Damian's hot. But then so's Blade." He shook his head and tossed the fox back on the table. "I should be so lucky as to have two hunks wanting me for fun and games."
"Fun interruptus. Blade sent me a mental telegram at the worst possible time. Threatened to show up. And not for fun either. Because he thought I was in danger."
"Danger?" Freddy put his hand on my shoulder. "What's happened? Why would he think that?"
"Ask him. Upstairs." I patted his hand, then shut the storeroom door again and headed to the counter. Lacy had sagged onto a stool. "How are you doing?"
Lacy looked up and yawned, a real jaw cracker. "Sorry. If I didn't know better, I'd think I was dying, I'm so tired. But overall it was a great day. We sold a ton of stuff. Look around."
Sure enough, there were significant inroads into our stock. I could definitely squeeze in a men's section.
"Go home, go to bed. We need to talk about a better schedule for you. Maybe hire someone else." Lacy sighed. "Yeah. I thought I was Wonder Woman, but turns out I'm more human than I thought." She stretched, a sinuous motion that was pure cat. "And I still need to," she glanced at a customer, "um, eat."
"Go, then." I pushed her toward the door. "I'll count receipts, put away our excess cash if there is any."
"There is. It was a great day." Lacy looked Freddy over. "Your mom says you're gay. You sure?" Freddy laughed and hooked arms with her. "Sure. But I'll walk you upstairs. Glory's afraid there's murder and mayhem going on up there."
"Sounds interesting." Lacy looked back at me and winked. "Any eligible guys involved in the action?"
"They're all eligible. Help yourself." I picked up a stack of receipts. Lacy made a face. "Wouldn't you know I look like hell?" She fluffed her hair.
"You could use a little blush." Freddy nodded toward the counter. "Mother left some makeup here in case of emergencies."
"You are gay!" She patted his cheek. "Thanks. I know about the makeup. Give me a minute." She grabbed a gold brocade bag from behind the counter and headed toward the dressing rooms.
"Lucky. She can actually use a mirror." I looked down at my fifties pencil skirt and twin set. Red. Which Blade had always said was my color.
Freddy grinned. "You know you look good. So who's it going to be, Blade or Damian?"
"Probably neither. Good looks aren't everything."
"But they don't hurt." Freddy patted my shoulder. "Give the guys a chance. See what develops."
"The only thing developing with either of them right now is hand-to-hand combat. I really need you to go upstairs and check for survivors. Okay?"
"On my way." Freddy smiled as Lacy emerged, looking like she'd just taken a twelve-hour nap instead of working all day. Did I really want her to help herself to the men upstairs? A customer approached with a vintage Gucci bag. Whatever. Blade infuriated me. Damian infuriated me. Even white-haired no-name vamp infuriated me. I was making money. Not infuriating at all. Lacy and Freddy left and I was too busy to spare them a thought. I waited on customers. Rearranged things to make room for my new men's section and counted money. No way was I giving up the store just because Westwood had come to town. And, wow, I really could afford to hire someone else.
The store was empty when the bell tinkled on the front door. Derek.
"Freddy was upstairs last I knew."
"I'm not looking for Frederick." Derek ran his fingers through his hair. "I'm looking for a job."
"Here? You want to work for me?" I looked him over. He was dressed right for a college student. Vintage rock band T-shirt, faded jeans and running shoes. A decent look in this college town. Of course he was to-die-for handsome.
"I've had retail experience." He strolled over to the rack I'd just set up in one corner. "Frederick's suits." He sighed and glanced at the tag. "A bargain. Man, I wish I'd known him then."
"You know him now. So why do you need a job?" Were the von Repsdorfs in financial trouble? They'd always lived well, but, unlike Blade, Freddy didn't own businesses or seem to work. Certainly CiCi never had.
"No financial problems. Freddy has investments. I want my independence." Derek made a face. "Sorry, I know you hate mind reading, but you're so easy to read."
"Unfortunately I'm used to every vamp I know browsing through my brain. I can relate to your need for independence." Poor Derek was probably on an allowance. He looked up. Got it in one.
"What I really need is another day person. But I guess I could use you for a few hours. We could try eight till midnight a few nights a week. I'm putting Lacy on commission and it's adding up to a fair amount. How about minimum wage plus that?"
"Really? You'll give me a shot?" Derek grinned. "And I know a little about women's fashions too. One of my former boyfriends was a drag queen. He had a fabulous wardrobe. You should have seen him do Marilyn Monroe." He fingered a fifties shirtwaist and looked wistful.
"What happened to him?"
"Killed crossing a street in New York City." Derek dropped the dress and moved on to the nightgowns. "Mortal obviously. We'd talked about making him vampire but he was still weighing the pros and cons." Pros and cons. Turning vampire was really all about trust. You were literally dying when you changed. And you had to know the vamp turning you wouldn't just suck you dry and leave you for dead. They had to infuse you with their own blood, at no little risk to themselves, to give you immortality and all those vamp powers that I'd been determined to squander for so long. I'd trusted Blade like that. So very, very long ago. And I'd been so crazy in love I'd never really thought the whole vampire thing through.
"I'm really sorry, Derek. But at least you and Freddy found each other."
"Yeah." Derek straightened a stack of hankies. "So when do I start?" I looked around. "It depends. How do you feel about spirits?"
Derek looked startled. "I'm not like Trevor if that's what you're getting at. I'm not into alcohol." Dumb ass appeared on the wall behind Derek's back. Harvey.
"Not alcohol, Derek. Ghosts. We have a situation here." I gestured toward the wall, but the words vanished.
"Ghosts? Cool." Derek looked around. "Helloooo."
Emmie Lou appeared next to the nighties. "Hello, cutie."
"Great outfit." Derek grinned and winked.
"Thanks, hon." Emmie Lou did a little twirl.
"She's taken, fella." Harvey appeared just after a crocodile handbag flew through the air and bounced off Derek's head.
"Whoa. Back off, Grandpa." Derek picked up the purse and slung the strap over his shoulder. "She's safe from me. I'm gay and I'm in a committed relationship."
"Figures." Emmie Lou made a face and disappeared.
"Keep it that way." Harvey vanished.
"Unbelievable." Derek set the purse back on the shelf. "This is going to be fun." The bells on the front door tinkled. A new customer. The man made a beeline to my new men's section and began examining each seam in one of the zoot suits. He flipped open a cell phone and punched in a number. Probably going to describe the suit to a friend. He held out the phone. Now he was taking a picture. Modern technology. Gotta love it. I turned back to Derek.
"You want to start right now?" I glanced upward. "I'd like to see what's happening upstairs."
"Sure." He nodded toward the customer. "If I'm lucky, I'll score my first big sale."
"If you need my help with a credit card or anything, my cell phone number is by the register." I patted my pocket. Yep, I had it with me. "Any real problems, there's a panic button under the counter near the register. The police promise to respond in five minutes or less."
"Now you're scaring me." Derek grinned, leaned closer and showed his fangs. "You really think I need the police to protect me?"
I shook my head. "Behave. And, Derek, the customers are off limits if you know what I mean." Derek straightened. "I'll be a good boy. I want this job."
"You got it. Back in a few."
Derek waved and strolled over to chat with the customer. The man snapped the phone shut and put on some tinted glasses to read the price tag I'd pinned on the sleeve. He'd probably want a discount. Most customers at vintage stores seemed to think we liked to bargain. And I wasn't above it. Derek could call me if he needed a price check. I headed upstairs. No sign of Lacy or Freddy inside the apartment, but Flo sat on the love seat, looking tragic and beautiful in black, her hair pulled back in a chignon. Blade and Damian were talking in the kitchen. No blood in sight unless you counted the cans of Bloody Merry sitting on the counter next to them.