Remembrance (The Mediator #7) Read Online Free PDF Page A

phone call, which I’m guessing you only thought of doing just now. No monetary sums have been mentioned, and even if you call it coercion, I’m pretty sure you’re going to have a hard time explaining to the cops exactly how my tearing down a property I legally own is threatening you. Though if you mention the stuff about the ancient Egyptian funerary texts, it will probably give the po-po a good laugh.”
    Unfortunately, he was right. That was the part that burned the most. Until he added, “Oh, and I’m going to expect a little more than you merely going out with me. Not to be crude, but virtue is hardly something I value. Unlike Hec tor , I’m not particularly marriage minded. But I guess being married to you might be fun . . . like being a storm chaser. You’d never know what to expect from day to day. But I’m getting ahead of myself. First, our date—it will definitely have to include physical intimacy. Otherwise, how else will I be able to show you I’ve changed?”
    I was so stunned, I was temporarily unable to form a reply, even a four-letter one, which for me was unusual.
    “Don’t worry,” he said soothingly. “It’s been a long time since I’ve touched Goldschläger. I’ve vastly improved my technique. I won’t throw you against another wall.”
    “Wow,” I said, when I could finally bring myself to speak. “What happened to you? When did you become so hard up for female company that you had to resort to sextortion? Have you ever thought of trying Tinder?”
    He laughed. “Good one! See, I’ve missed this. I’ve missed us.”
    “There was never any us, you perv. What happened between you and Kelly, anyway?”
    “Kelly?” Paul hooted some more. “Kelly Prescott ? I guess you haven’t been reading the online alumni newsletters, either.”
    “No,” I admitted guiltily. The guilt was only because my best friend, CeeCee, wrote the newsletter for our graduating class, and I paid no attention to it.
    “Well, let’s just say Kelly and I weren’t exactly meant for each other—not like you and me. But don’t worry about old Kel. She’s rebounded with some guy twice her age, but with twice as much money as I have—which is saying a lot, because as I mentioned, I’m flush. Kelly Prescott became Mrs. Kelly . . . Walters, I think is what it said on the announcement. She had some huge reception at the Pebble Beach resort. What, you weren’t invited?”
    “I don’t recall. My social calendar’s pretty full these days.”
    I was lying, of course. I’d been invited to Kelly’s wedding, but only because I’m related through marriage to her best friend Debbie, who’d been the maid of honor. I’d politely declined, citing a (fake) prior commitment, and no one had mentioned missing me.
    Weddings aren’t really my thing, anyway. Large gatherings of the living tend to attract the attention of the undead, and I usually end up having to mediate NCDPs between swallows of beer.
    My own wedding is going to be different. I’ll kick the butt of any deadhead who shows up there uninvited.
    “So when are we having dinner?” Paul asked. “Or, more to the point, what comes after dinner. And I’m not talking about dessert.”
    “When Jupiter aligns with planet Go Screw Yourself.”
    “Aw, Suze. Your sexy pillow talk is what I’ve missed most about you. I’ll be in Carmel this weekend. I’ll text you the deets about where to meet up then. But really, it doesn’t sound like you’re taking anything I’ve just told you about the potential threat to your boyfriend’s life very seriously.”
    “I do take it seriously. Seriously enough to be looking forward to seeing you as it will allow me to fulfill my long-held dream of sticking my foot up your ass.”
    “You can put any body part of yours in any orifice of mine you please, Simon, so long as I get to do the same to you.”
    I was so angry I suggested that he suck a piece of anatomy I technically don’t possess, since I’m female.
    It