Succubus Revealed Read Online Free PDF Page B

was dressed. He regarded me critically. “Starbucks? They might have been okay before they became mainstream, but now they’re just another corporate monstrosity that all the sheep flock to.” He swirled his coffee mug around. “Back in Chicago, I go to this really great hole-in-the-wall café that’s run by this guy who used to be a bass player in an indie rock band you’ve probably never heard off. The espresso he serves is so authentic, it’s mind-blowing. Of course, most people have no clue because it’s not the kind of place mainstream people tend to frequent.”
    “So,” I said, suspecting one could make a drinking game out of how many times Ian used “mainstream” in a conversation, “I guess that means there’s plenty of Starbucks here for me.”
    Margaret nodded briefly toward Seth’s coffeemaker. “Have a cup with us.”
    She turned around and continued cooking. The phone was burning in my pocket. I wanted to sprint toward the door and had to force myself to behave normally in front of Seth’s family. I poured myself a cup of delicious corporate coffee and tried not to act like they were keeping me from a phone call that could change the rest of my life. Soon, I told myself. I’d have answers soon. Jerome probably wasn’t even up. I could delay here briefly for the sake of politeness and then get my answers.
    “You’re up early,” I said, taking my coffee over to a corner that gave me a good view of both Mortensens. And the door.
    “Hardly,” said Margaret. “It’s nearly eight. Ten, where we come from.”
    “I suppose so,” I murmured, sipping from my mug. Since signing up for Team North Pole, I hardly ever saw this side of noon anymore. Children didn’t usually hit Santa up for Christmas requests so early, not even the ones at the mall I worked at.
    “Are you a writer too?” asked Margaret, flipping over something with a flourish. “Is that why you pull such crazy hours?”
    “Er, no. But I do usually work later in the day. I work, um, retail, so I’m on mall hours.”
    “The mall,” scoffed Ian.
    Margaret turned from the stove and glared at her son. “Don’t act like you never go there. Half your wardrobe’s from Fox Valley.”
    Ian actually turned pink. “That’s not true!”
    “Didn’t you get your coat at Abernathy & Finch?” she prodded.
    “It’s Abercrombie & Fitch! And, no, of course I didn’t.”
    Margaret’s expression spoke legions. She took down two plates from the cupboard and stacked them high with pancakes. She delivered one to Ian and the other to me.
    I started to hand it back. “Wait. Is this your breakfast? I can’t eat this.”
    She fixed with me with a steely gaze and then looked me up and down. It gave me a good view of the quilted teddy bears on her sweatshirt. “Oh? Are you one of those girls who doesn’t eat real food? Is your usual breakfast coffee and grapefruit?” She gave a calculated pause. “Or do you not trust my cooking?”
    “What? No!” I hastily put my plate on the table and took a chair across from Ian. “This looks great.”
    “Usually I’m vegan,” said Ian, pouring syrup on the pancakes. “But I make exceptions for Mom.”
    I really, really should have let it go but couldn’t help saying, “I didn’t think ‘usually’ and ‘vegan’ go together. You either are or you aren’t. If you’re making exceptions some of the time, then I don’t think you get the title. I mean, sometimes I put cream in my coffee and sometimes I don’t. I don’t call myself vegan on black days.”
    He sighed in disgust. “I’m vegan ironically .”
    I returned to my pancakes. Margaret was back to cooking again, presumably her own breakfast now, but still continued the conversation. “How long have you and Seth been seeing each other?”
    “Well . . .” I used chewing as an excuse to formulate my thoughts. “That’s kind of hard to answer. We’ve, um, dated off and on for the last year.”
    Ian frowned. “Wasn’t Seth