Confessions of a Werewolf Supermodel by Ronda Thompson

Author:Ronda Thompson [Thompson, Ronda]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Romance, Fantasy, Vampires, Mystery
ISBN: 9781466857759
Google: eQkKAQAAQBAJ
Amazon: 0312949251
Goodreads: 771225
Publisher: St. Martin's Press
Published: 2007-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

CONFESSION NO. 15

Due to circumstances beyond my control, I have learned a lie is more often kinder than the truth. Now if everyone else could just learn the same thing, we could all be happy.

Two apple martinis later, two steaks, one rare, and a decadent chocolate creation that Cindy and I felt we should share, we sit in sated satisfaction in the greatest steak house in Brooklyn. We’re both too stuffed to talk. I imagine Cindy is thinking of her mother and their conversation earlier. I have so many thoughts rolling around in my head it’s hard to focus on just one.

What happened to Dog Breath? Did I kill him? Or will I dream again tonight? I glance out the windows to the streets beyond. He could be out there right now. Watching me. I don’t want to think about that.

Or the fact that my cell hasn’t rung all day. I try to ward off the insecurity seeping in—feelings that were so much a part of my life when I was Sherry Billington. Just where are the Billingtons? Where is Wendy Underwood? Why the hell hasn’t Terry called me?

“Haven’t heard from him, have you?”

Glancing back at Cindy, I say, “That obvious, huh?”

She gives me her sad smile. The one that’s supposed to make me feel better for reasons I can’t fathom. “You’re wearing the same look you did the day you lugged that stray cat home. Clive and Norma said you could keep it and it ran off the next day.”

“Damn cat slept with me the night before he ran off, too,” I grumble.

My cell rings. My heart skips a beat. It’s been an emotional twenty-four hours. I let it ring three times before I answer. I sound calm and collected.

“Hi, Lou. Terry.”

When I spend the wee hours having sex with a man who signs his notes and identifies himself when he calls, it’s not a good sign. “Terry who?”

He laughs. “Busy day. Just now got a chance to call. What are you doing?”

“Cindy and I are at Pete’s in Brooklyn, wondering if we can undo our pants and pick our teeth.”

I get another laugh. “Can I come by and give you a ride home? Cindy, too, of course.”

It’s weird to be a supermodel, lusted over by millions of men, the object of most fourteen-year-old boys’ wet dreams, and suddenly feel like I’ve never had a relationship with a man before. I guess I haven’t, not really. “We’re finished eating. Cindy might be anxious to leave.”

A pause. He wasn’t expecting me to decline the offer.

“I can put on the siren on top of the El Camino and be there in ten minutes. I was over at my folks’ for dinner.”

Good enough for sex. Not good enough to meet the parents. I know I’m being a total geek about this and decide to chill. “Ten minutes,” I say and hang up.

Cindy nods approvingly. “I do believe you’ve finally become cool, Lou. Way to put him in his place.”

“Thanks for the reminder that I’m still a geek at heart,” I mutter.

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