"Are you really, oh, you know," she said across the table. I smiled and nodded at her, hoping to put her at ease. She sat between her husband and Weldon; I was wedged between Winkler and Kelvin on the opposite side of the booth. The Second, a quiet werewolf, had an extra chair on the outside edge and seemed content to listen while everyone else talked. Once again we were at a steak place, only this one served ribs, seafood and a little chicken as well. Winkler went out on a limb and ordered two lobsters.
Kelvin ordered chicken and ribs; I ordered a salad and the soup du jour. My phone rang while we waited for food to be served. I checked caller ID—it was Gavin. I'd sent him an email when I woke earlier, telling him everything was fine. That wasn't sufficient, I guess.
"I'll take this elsewhere," I said, attempting to scoot Winkler over so I could get out. He had the seat on the outside.
"It's all right, you can take it here," Winkler refused to budge. My phone rang again so I rolled my eyes a little at Weldon, whose expression was unreadable. I'd have to talk to Gavin with everybody listening in.
"Hi, honey," I said as brightly as I could when I answered. No need to transmit to the Packmaster and his missus that the vampire on the other end was more than likely frowning deeply and waiting to lecture me about staying away from Winkler and every other male on the face of the planet.
"Lissa, are you well?" I'd just told him I was in the email. Maybe I should have translated it into French or something so he'd understand it better. I didn't say that, though.
"I'm very well," I said. "We're having dinner right now." I was hoping he'd make this short and sweet as a result. Ever since René's little fiasco and the thing with the bomb, well, he'd gotten worse.
"Lissa, I just wanted to hear your voice," he said. He almost sounded lonely. Fuck.
"Honey, I miss you," I said. I tried to get Winkler to let me out again, but he wasn't moving, choosing to grin as he crunched into a breadstick. More than likely werewolf hearing is just as good as vampire hearing so everybody at the table was getting to hear my conversation with Gavin. "Honey, are you going to be available for Christmas?" I asked, trying to point the conversation in a better direction. Plus, Weldon was supposed to give me a break and I'd only told Winkler I'd do Thanksgiving dinner.
"I don't know, cherie. Right now there are no assignments but that could change as it usually does."
"All right." I sighed. "Let me know, okay?"
"Of course I will. If I find I have the time, I will either come to you or bring you to me as quickly as possible."
"Okay, honey, that sounds good," I said.
"Cara mia, ti amo troppo," Gavin said, and hung up. I must have blinked a couple of times because Winkler was watching me closely.
"You don't know what he said, do you?" he asked ungraciously. I was glad at that moment that I couldn't blush.
"No. I wish he'd translate sometimes, unless he's cursing. That he can keep to himself."
"When did he curse the last time?" Winkler lifted an eyebrow.
"When somebody messed up my outfit," I said, hanging my head a little so Winkler wouldn't see my grimace. "He threw me in the shower and scrubbed me twice, while cursing in at least three languages." Weldon snickered at my explanation. I wasn't about to mention the René fiasco. That would involve even more explanation, and I'm sure Wlodek wouldn't approve.
"Someone messed up your outfit?" The Packmaster's wife, Jewel, said across the table.
"Oh, yeah," I elbowed Winkler. Not as hard as I'd like but hard enough.
"You got scrubbed twice?" Winkler was grinning hugely. Obviously, I needed to be harsher with my elbow.
"And shampooed twice. And then wrapped in a towel while more cursing was going on. He's not jealous or anything."
"How did you get engaged to him anyway? Honestly, Lissa, that's the last thing I expected from you." Winkler emptied the scotch the waiter brought out.
"Well, that makes two of us," I muttered. "Winkler, do you know how many females of my kind there are? Do you?"
"No. Do you?" He was grinning again.
"Sixteen," I said. Winkler almost choked.
"Do you need the Heimlich Maneuver?" I asked sweetly. Kelvin perked right up at that. It might have been a chance to show off his medical skills, but then again, maybe not. Winkler straightened up.
"Are you telling me that they were going to auction you off to the highest bidder?" Weldon was buttering a roll from the basket the waiter set down in front of him.
"In a way," I said. "Gavin was one of the top three and out of those three, well, the Russian guy scared the bejeezus out of me, same with the Frenchman, for different reasons. Gavin's was the third offer."
"You don't love him?" Jewel was sympathetic.
"No, that's the trouble. I do, but all it takes is a couple of near-deaths and one insane bout of jealousy and he wants to hover."
"Is he handsome?" she asked curiously.
"He is," Weldon supplied for me. "He was here, earlier in the year. When he was called back to Europe, he took Lissa with him."
"We don't want to discuss that," I said. I got all riled up every time I thought about that. "He's growing his hair back," I added.
"How did he lose it?" Winkler's eyes were dancing.
"Um, a rogue with a flame thrower," I said. "We were worried he wouldn't make it for a while."
"And there I thought you might have been responsible. I did notice he looked almost shaved," Weldon said, smiling slightly. He and Winkler hadn't spoken to Gavin when they'd come to handle Tate Briggs. I couldn't blame them; Gavin held them under compulsion while he was in the U.S.
"Enough about me," I said. "Jewel, how do you like being the wife of the man in charge?"
"I don't see him as often as I'd like," she put an arm through his. Theirs was obviously a love match, one way or the other. "But I'm proud of him, too," she looked up at him; he smiled down at her.
Weldon got into the conversation then and I was thankful for that. He asked how the finances of the Pack were. The Packmaster who'd gotten killed with Lester Briggs back in the spring had been siphoning off funds that the Pack paid in for emergencies and such.
"We're rebuilding, Grand Master," James Naylor replied. "I have the books and the bank statements ready for your inspection."
"I'll take a look tomorrow evening," Weldon nodded. I was beginning to be hopeful that tomorrow night wouldn't turn out like the last one.