But to keep them safe, I needed to buckle down and tempt all sixty-one of those party goers. With both of my in-house babysitters unavailable, I called Kate Popinjay and begged her to watch Ari after basketball camp. “This might be an overnight thing, too,” I warned.
Like always, Kate didn’t question me. Recently widowed and retired, Kate appreciated the company. Since she’d been an elementary school paraprofessional for over twenty years, she had excellent rapport with kids, even troubled kids like my niece. She cheerfully agreed to keep Ariel for as long as necessary.
As I went to wake up my niece, the doorway in my bedroom glimmered and Delilah appeared. She wore a pair of loose-fitting pants and matching tunic of taupe crepe, and her dreads were wrapped in an African-print scarf. Despite the sharp outfit, however, her eyes were dim with exhaustion, a condition that plagued all of Helen’s staff.
She handed me a thick stack of papers. “All of the names are listed, but some of the temptation information is missing.”
‘Some’ was a misnomer. Nearly every entry had empty spaces next to it: an omitted meeting place, an unspecified time, or a confusing temptation. I groaned. “Can’t you fill in a few more of those blanks?”
She frowned. “If you think you can do this job any better, then show me how it’s done.”
“I know, I know. You’re doing the best you can.” Unfortunately, I’d been spoiled by Patrick’s uncanny ability to pinpoint my temptations. “How about a cup of coffee before you go?” I asked. “You look like you could use one.”
She agree and followed me into the kitchen. “You wouldn’t happen to have a donut to go with that?” she asked.
“Sorry, no.”
She sighed. “Never mind. It’s just that all the food in Hell is terrible. It looks and smells good, but it tastes bland and nasty.”
“Can’t you eat in the human world?”
“I never get a chance.” She sipped her coffee. “Most of the time, I’m chained to my desk. And I mean that figuratively,” she added when my eyebrows went up.
“Hell sucks,” I agreed.
She nodded. “I wished I would have gone into Heaven when I passed.”
“Why didn’t you?”
She looked at her hands. “I did something really bad when I was alive. Something I couldn’t forgive myself for. When it came time for me to decide where to go, I couldn’t bear going into Heaven with that guilt on my heart.”
I put my hand on hers. Helen had once told me that little sins added up over time, and that when most people died and came face-to-face with the enormity of their errors, they couldn’t stand entering Heaven. In fact, when Tommy had died, he’d felt a similar burden and had nearly made the same decision as Delilah.
Delilah finished her coffee and stood. “Good luck with the list. Turns out, I’m getting a computer after all, so maybe I can use it to help you.” Her expression darkened. “Course, the old lady wants Darcy running in circles today, too, so I’ll have my hands full with his jobs as well.” She shook her head. “I thought I would leave the rat race behind when I passed, but I guess not.”
I followed her to the doorway in the living room. “Where did you work when you were still alive?”
This time, her laugh sounded genuine. “At a sports arena. I was an events planner.”
Events planner? Helen certainly did have a wicked sense of humor.
Although I’d hoped to track down a holy icon that morning, Helen kept me busy just as she’d promised. First, I convinced the bartender from the party to buy a brand-new convertible he could not afford. Then, I enticed a man to call in sick to work so that he could play blackjack at a downtown casino. Next, I encouraged a real estate agent to forge information on a listing so that potential buyers wouldn’t know the house had asbestos ceiling tiles and a leaky roof.
Finally, I found the two college students who had sniffed my lotus blossoms and pestered me with their double entendres. The duo were crammed into one half of a two-car garage. The taller of the them pounded out a steady rhythm on a drum set while the other, a guy with a sparse beard and glasses with thick, hipster frames, attempted to play a poorly-tuned guitar. Even from the other side of the supernatural doorway, my head ached at their racket. When I finally stepped out to meet them, I pretended to be an agent. Within minutes, I had both students convinced they could sign million-dollar recording deals, play sold-out shows across the country, and sleep with as many women as they wanted if only they gave up their college plans and took their lousy, two-man band on the road.
Five temptations in under three hours was a personal best, but breaking my record didn’t thrill me. In fact, as I entered the tally marks into my journal, I felt awful. Although I tried hard to pretend I was karma dressed in Dolce and Gabbana, I couldn’t shake my guilt. Helen might believe those men deserved what they were getting, but I wasn’t convinced.
At noon, I settled down to eat lunch and watch a little TV but was interrupted by a knock on the door. To my dismay, Corrine, armed with several glossy catalogues, stood in the hallway. “Good! You’re finally home.” She had probably rushed upstairs the moment she heard my footsteps overhead.
“I’m only here for a few minutes,” I told her. “Then I have to run out again.”
She wedged past me into the living room. “I see you found the dominatrix costume I left for you.” She nodded to the package sitting on the entryway table.
“Yes, but I don’t want it.” I tried to give it back to her, but she refused to take it.
“It’s yours to keep,” she insisted. “If you host a party.”
“Yes, but I’m not going to host a party.
Or
an open house,” I added when she started to object. I wished Corrine would go back to chasing men instead of chasing customers. Miss Don’t Take No for an Answer was much more annoying than Miss Lonely-hearts. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get going.”
Her eyes drifted to my kitchen. “We haven’t had coffee together in days. I miss that.”
“Me, too,” I said honestly. “And I’d be happy to invite you again
if
you promise not to give me a sales pitch.”
“But I’m only trying to get my business started! This is what I am now.”
I herded her towards the door. “You’re a pushy sales consultant? That’s funny because I always thought of you as a competent, compassionate nurse.”
She pressed her lips together. “Oncology gets so depressing. I need something to take my mind off of death.”
“So join a book club. Or paint watercolors or
something
other than this.”
I’d successfully bullied Corrine into the hallway, but her feet remained on the threshold, and I couldn’t shut the door. “At least take a catalog,” she said.
“Corrine, I’m counting to five. If you don’t move by the time I’m done, I’m slamming the door on your toes. One, two, three…”
“Okay, fine.” She retreated into the hallway. “But I still think your friends would love the Naughty Nancy line of…”
I shut the door firmly.
“…adult novelties,” she finished and slid a catalog under the door.
Before returning to my job, I checked the to-do list again. Despite all my hard work that morning, I had hardly made a dent in it. My telephone pinged with a text message from Delilah:
check ur email
.
I sat on my bed with my laptop and brought up my e-mail software. Once again, messages crowded my inbox. I’d forgotten all about those damn invites from the dating service! As I deleted each one, I noticed the messages had changed. I was no longer drawing aggressive lovers, but the matches were still far from perfect.
Gregg B. desired a girl who would harmonize with him in the church choir.
Carl J. enjoyed Bible studies, inspiring sermons, and gospel music.
Albert Mc, a bit more adventurous than the others, wanted a partner to travel the globe with him in order to spread faith and goodwill among non-believers.
Jasmine! She’d changed my profile all right, but these names were just as bad as the others. Maybe even worse. These poor men would drop dead in horror if I told them that I was part demon. And Helen…well, if she found out that I was dating a church-goer, she’d tie me to a chair of nails faster than I could say, ‘Amen.’
At the sparkle of otherworld glamour, I slammed down the lid of my computer just as William appeared in the doorway. There were circles under his eyes, and a shadow of a beard on his jaw. In his rumpled suit, he looked like a businessman disembarking from a red-eye flight to Tokyo.
A shiny, red scar marked the left side of his jaw. “What happened to you?” I asked, alarmed. It looked like he’d been attacked with a curling iron. “Did your assignment get out of control?” According to Patrick, William’s clients had injured him before.
He gingerly touched the burn and winced. “Yesterday, Calamity learned how to breathe fire.”
“William! You have to get her under control before she burns down your house!”
“The house is fine, but I am going to need a new rug. And new drapes.” He sat on the edge of the bed. “And a new couch.”
“Maybe you should get a new pet, too.”
He shook his head. “No, all I need is a new fire extinguisher. Calamity is a very affectionate girl.” He gently touched the burn again. “When she wants to be, that is.”
“
Now
who’s not being reasonable?”
“She can’t help it! She doesn’t realize she’s being bad.” He eyed my closed laptop. “You, on the other hand, looked guilty as sin when I came in. What gives?”
My cheeks grew warm. “Nothing.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “Didn’t we promise each other to always be honest?”
Damn, he was right! Reluctantly, I opened the laptop. As William read the e-mails, his expression grew stony. “When did you subscribe to this dating service?”
“My stepsister signed me up.” I explained about Jasmine’s epic fail, hoping he’d find it funny.
He didn’t smile. “Are you planning on dating anyone?”
“Definitely,” I said. I closed the computer and set it aside. “There’s one man in particular I’ve got my eye on.”
William glowered at the floor.
“He’s absolutely gorgeous and has excellent taste in clothing.” Watching William grow more and more jealous filled me with spiteful glee. “He can be a cad, but he has a heart of gold.”
“I don’t want to hear any more,” William warned.
I took his chin and turned his head in my direction. “Did I mention he’s over a hundred years old, and an incubus to boot?”
He blinked, and his expression relaxed. “Tell me more.”
I stroked his jaw. “He’s got a monstrous pet that he adores. And he remembered my birthday.” I kissed him. William had full, kissable lips, and he tasted like peppermint. I wrapped my arms around his neck. “I think he’s very special.”
He laid his cheek against my hair. “He thinks you’re very special as well.”
My heartbeat quickened. “Do you mean that?”
“Of course.”
“So you care about me?”
“Yes,” he murmured, burying his face in my hair.
“Very much?” I prodded.
“Very, very much,” he agreed.
This was the closest he’d come to admitting he loved me. It wasn’t perfect, but it was awfully good.