Succubus Blues CHAPTER 2

The phone jolted me to consciousness the succeeding(prenominal) morning. Dim, murky light filtered in through my sheer curtains, signifying some freakishly early minute. Around here, however, that amount of light could have indicated anything from sunrise to high noon. After four rings, I in the long run deigned to answer, accidentally knocking Aubrey out of the bed. She landed with an indignant mhew and stalked off to clean herself.Hello? Yo, Kincaid?No. My response came swift and certain. Im non coming in.You dont even know Im going to ask that.Of caterpillar track I know. Theres no separate reason youd be calling me this early, and Im not going to do it. Its my day off, Doug.Doug, the other assistant manager at my day job, was a pretty nice guy, but he couldnt keep a poker face or representative to save his life. His cool demeanor immediately gave way to desperation. Everyone called in spit today, and now were strapped. You have to do it.Well, Im sick too. Believe me, y ou dont loss me there.Okay, I wasnt on the button sick, but I was still sporting a residual after(prenominal)glow from being with Martin. Mortals would not see it as Duane had per se, but they would sense it and be drawn to it custody and women alike without even knowing why. My confinement today would prevent any foolish, lovesick behavior. It was very kind of me, trulyly.Liar. Youre never sick.Doug, I was already planning on coming back tonight for the subscribe. If I work a shift today too, Ill be there all day. Thats sick and twisted.Wel love to my world, babe. We have no alternative, not if you really c be about the fate of the store, not if you truly care about our customers and their happinessYoure losing me, cowboy.So, he continued, the question is, are you going to come here willingly, or do I have to walk everywhere there and drag you out of bed myself? Frankly, I wouldnt mind the latter.I did a mental eye roll, chiding myself for the billionth clock about living two blocks from work. His rambling about the bookstores suffering had been effective, as hed known it would. I operated infra the mistaken belief that the place couldnt survive without me.Well, rather than risk any more of your attempts at witty, sexual banter, I suppose Ill have to come all over there. But Doug My voice turned hard.Yeah?Dont put me on the registers or anything.I heard hesitation on his end.Doug? Im serious. Not the main registers. I dont want to be around a lot of customers.All right, he said at last. Not the main registers.Promise?I promise.A half hour later, I stepped outside my door to walk the two blocks to the bookstore. Long clouds hung low, darkening the sky, and a faint chill touched the air, forcing some of my fellow pedestrians to don a coat. I had opted for none, finding my khaki slacks and brown chenille sweater more than sufficient. The clothing, sightly like the lip gloss and eyeliner Id carefully applied this morning, were real I had not shape-sh ifted into them. I enjoyed the routine nature of applying cosmetics and matching articles of clothing, though Hugh would have claimed I was just being weird again.Emerald City Books & Caf? was a rambling establishment, occupying almost a full block in Seattles Queen Anne neighborhood. It sat two stories high, with the cafe portion dominating a second-floor corner viewing the set Needle. A cheerful green awning hung over the main door, protecting those customers waiting for the store to open. I walked around them and entered through a side door, use my staff key.Doug assaulted me before Id taken two steps inside. Its about time. We He paused and did a double-take, reexamining me. Wow. You look really nice today. Did you do something different?Only a thirty-four-year-old virgin, I thought.Youre just imagining things because youre so happy Im here to fix your staffing problem. What am I doing? Stock?I, er, no. Doug struggled to snap out of his haze, still looking me up and down in a way I found disconcerting. His interest in dating me was no secret, nor was my continual rejection. Come on, Ill show you.I told you Its not the main registers, he promised me.What it turned out to be was the espresso counter in our upstairs cafe. Bookstore staff hardly ever subbed up here, but it wasnt unheard of.Bruce, the cafe manager, popped up from where hed been kneeling behind the counter. I often thought Doug and Bruce could be twins in a mixed-race, alternate-reality sort of way. Both had long, scraggly ponytails, and some(prenominal) wore a good deal of flannel in tribute to the grunge era neither had fully recovered from. They differed mainly in their coloring. Doug was Japanese-American, black-haired with perfect skin Bruce was Mr. Aryan Nation, all blond hair and blue eyes.Hey Doug, Georgina, heralded Bruce. His eyes widened at me. Whoa, you look great today.Doug This is just as bad. I told you I didnt want any customers.You told me not the main registers. You didnt say anything about this one.I opened my mouth to protest, but Bruce interrupted. Come on, Georgina, I had Alex call in sick today, and Cindy actually quit. Seeing my stony expression, he quickly added, Our registers are almost identical to yours. Itll be easy.Besides Doug raised his voice to a fair put on of our managers assistant managers are supposed to be able to fill in for anybody around here. Yeah, but the cafe is still part of the store. Look, Ive got to go open. Brucell show you what you pick up to know. Dont worry, itll be fine. He hastily darted off before I could refuse again.Coward I yelled after him.It really wont be that bad, Bruce reiterated, not understanding my dismay. You just take the money, and Ill eviscerate the espresso. Lets practice on you. You want a white chocolate mocha? Yeah, I conceded. Everyone I worked with k innovative about that particular vice. I ordinarily managed to take down three of them a day. Mochas that was, not coworkers.Bruce wal ked me through the necessary steps, showing me how to mark up the cups and find what I needed to push on the registers touch-screen interface. He was right. It wasnt so bad.Youre a natural, he certified me later, handing over my mocha.I grunted in response and consumed my caffeine, thinking I could handle anything so long as the mochas kept coming.Besides, this really couldnt be as bad as the main registers. The cafe probably did no business this time of day.I was wrong. Minutes after opening, we had a line of five people.Large latte, I repeated back to my first customer, carefully punching in the information.Already got it, Bruce told me, starting the beverage before I even had a chance to label the cup. I happily took the womans money and moved on to my next order.A largish skinny mocha. Skinnys just some other word for nonfat, Georgina.I scrawled NF on the cup. No worries. We could do this.The next customer wandered up and stared at me, momentarily bedazzled. Coming to her sen ses, she shook her head and blurted out a torrent of orders.I need one small drip coffee, one large nonfat vanilla latte, one small double cappuccino, and one large decaf latte.Now I felt up bedazzled. How had she remembered all those? And honestly, who ordered drip anymore?On and on the morning went, and despite my misgivings, I soon felt myself perking up and enjoying the experience. I couldnt help it. It was how I worked, how I carried myself through life. I liked trying new things even something as banal as annulus up espresso. People could be silly, certainly, but I enjoyed working with the public most of the time. It was how I had ended up in customer service.And once I overcame my sleepiness, my inborn succubus charisma kicked in. I became the star of my own personal stage show, bantering and flirting with ease. When combined with the Martin-induced glamour, I became downright irresistible. While this did entrust in a number of proffered dates and pickup lines, it also sa ved me from the repercussions of any mistakes. My customers found no wrong with me.Thats all right, dear, one older woman assured me upon discovering Id accidentally ordered her a large cinnamon mocha instead of a nonfat, decaf latte. I really need to branch out into new drinks anyway.I smiled back winningly, hoping she wasnt diabetic.Later on, a guy came up carrying a copy of Seth Mortensens The Glasgow Pact. It was the first sign Id seen of tonights momentous event.Are you going to the signing? I asked as I rang up his tea. Bleh. Caffeine-free.He studied me for a pregnant moment, and I braced myself for a pass.Instead the guy said mildly, Yeah, Ill be there.Well, make sure you think up good questions for him. Dont ask the same ones everyone else does.What do you mean?Oh, you know, the usual. Where do you tick your ideas from? and Are Cady and ONeill ever going to get together? The guy considered this as I make change. He was cute, in a disheveled sort of way. He had brown hair wi th a reddish-gold glisten to it, said gleam being more noticeable in the shadow of facial hair crossing his lower face. I couldnt quite decide if hed measuredly grown a beard or just forgotten to shave. whatever it was, it had grown in more or less evenly and, when combined with the strike hard Floyd T-shirt he wore, presented the image of a sort of hippie-lumberjack.I dont think the usual questions make them any less meaningful to the one doing the asking, he mulish at last, seeming shy about contradicting me. To a fan, each question is new and unique.He stepped aside so I could wait on another(prenominal) customer. I continued the conversation as I took the next order, unwilling to pass up the opportunity to discuss Seth Mortensen intelligently.Forget the fans. What about curt Seth Mortensen? He probably wants to impale himself each time he gets one of those. Impale is kind of a strong word, dont you think?Absolutely not. The guys brilliant. Hearing soused questions must bo re him to tears.A bemused smile played across the mans mouth, and his steady brown eyes weighed me carefully. When he realized he was staring so openly, he glanced away, embarrassed. No. If hes out touring, he cares about his fans. He doesnt mind the repetitive questions.Hes not out touring for altruism. Hes out touring because the publicists at his publishing house are making him tour, I countered. Which is also a waste of time, by the way.He dared a look back at me. Touring is? You dont want to meet him?I well, yes, of course I do. Its just, that okay. Look, dont get me wrong. I worship the ground this guy walks on. Im excited to meet him tonight. Im dying to meet him tonight. If he wanted to carry me off and make me his love slave, Id do it, so long as I got advance copies of his books. But this touring thing it takes time. Time that would be better spent writing the next book. I mean, havent you seen how long his books take to come out?Yeah. Ive noticed.Just then, a previous cu stomer returned, complaining hed gotten caramel syrup instead of caramel sauce. Whatever that meant. I offered a few smiles and sweet apologies, and he soon didnt care about the caramel sauce or anything else. By the time he go away my register, the Mortensen fan guy was gone too.When I in the long run finished my shift around five, Doug came to meet me.I heard some interesting things about your instruction execution up here.I hear interesting things about your performance all the time, Doug, but you dont hear me making jokes about it.He bandied with me a bit more and finally released me to get ready for the signing, but not before Id made him humbly acknowledge how much he owed me for my kindness today. Between him and Hugh, I was accruing favors all over the place.I practically ran the two blocks home, anxious to grab some dinner and figure out what I wanted to wear. My exhilaration was growing. In an hour or so, Id be meeting my all-time favorite author. Could life get any bet ter? Humming to myself, I took the stairs two at a time and produced my keys with a flourish that only I noticed or appreciated.As I opened the door, a hand suddenly grabbed me and pulled me roughly inside, into the darkness of my apartment. I yelped in surprise and fear as I was shoved up against the door, slamming it shut. The lights burst on suddenly and unexpectedly, and the faint smell of sulfur wafted through the air. Although the brightness made me wince, I could see well enough to recognize what was going on.Hell hath no fury like a pissed-off demon.