Her Detective Dragon_A Paranormal Mystery Romance

by Alice Summerfield

  “How may I help you?”

  “I’m here about the ‘Help Wanted’ sign in the window?” said Ana. She hefted the hand in which she held the two bagged pieces of cake. “I brought you coffee cake.”

  The owner’s face split into a wide grin.

  “I see you’ve already canvassed the counter,” he said. “Alright, have a seat and we’ll get down to it.”

  “Right now?” blurted Ana, shocked. She hadn’t even filled out an application yet!

  But she wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth either.

  Quickly, she slid into one of the vomit colored chairs. On the bit of desk in front of her she placed her cup of cocoa and the two paper bags, before reaching into her shoulder bag for a resume. She slid it across the table, the slice of coffee cake in its little paper sleeve following in its wake.

  “Go ahead and open yours,” said Mr. Baker. “I hate to eat alone.”

  Obediently, Ana tore open her bag as Mr. Baker ripped into his.

  “Lemon, huh?” said Mr. Baker around his first bite of coffee cake. “I prefer the coffee cake more; anything with cinnamon, really.”

  Since she couldn’t think of anything to say to that, Ana quickly took a big bite of her cake.

  Mr. Baker had two more bites in his mouth before he gave Ana’s resume a second glance. While he read over her resume, Ana nervously nibbled at her lemon cake, sipped her hot cocoa, and tried not to fidget too much.

  “Hmmm, looks good,” said Mr. Baker, now leaned forward enough to be hunched over Ana’s resume. “Why’d do you want to leave?”

  “My position became redundant.”

  “Tough luck,” he said without looking up from her resume. “It says here that you were a barista in college?”

  “Yes,” said Ana, her heart lifting. “I can make foam art, and I know how to work a cash register.” Well, she could probably work a cash register. Maybe they had an owner’s manual somewhere around here. “And I’m a good baker!”

  That last, at least, was true. Well, she could follow a recipe. That was probably almost the same thing.

  “Can you bake coffee cake?”

  “Oh, sure! All kinds!” said Ana quickly. “Just let me see your recipe!”

  At that, Mr. Baker looked up. He grinned at her.

  “Lemon cake?” he inquired.

  “Yes, if there’s a recipe.”

  “All right,” said Mr. Baker. He sat back in his chair. With one finger, he pushed Ana’s resume back across the table. His fingertip left a smear of sticky brown cinnamon on her resume.

  It was ruined.

  Ana took it back with a sinking heart. She was pretty sure that she’d blown it. No one wanted to hire someone who was desperate.

  “When can you start?”

  Ana stared at him, feeling surprised.

  Mr. Baker’s wide smile made little creases at the corners of his eyes.

  “You seem nice enough, and we’re really short staffed right now. If you could start today –”

  “I can!” blurted Ana. Hope, and the beginnings of excitement, bubbled up in her chest. “So I got the job?”

  “Yes, of course!” exclaimed Mr. Baker. He pushed himself to his feet. “Let’s go get you a uniform. And you’ll need to be penciled into the schedule. Payday comes on the second and fourth Fridays of the month. Hey, are you allergic to nuts?”

  Twenty minutes later, Ana was getting trained on the cash register.

  Having a job, even one that had her standing on her poor abused feet for hours at a time, did wonders for Ana’s mood. Sure, it paid less than her last job and it was hard work, but Ana had already done the math. Assuming that she worked at least thirty-six hours a week, she should be able to cover her necessary expenses.

  And the girl who had sold her the slice of coffee cake, Malory, was right: the owner was super nice, and the managers were super laidback.

  After she finished her impromptu shift, Ana went home and grabbed a quick nap. She wanted to be energized and refreshed for her date with Grissom.

  When she rolled out of bed, Ana took a short shower before blow drying her hair and doing her makeup. Ana changed her outfit four times, the whole time cursing Rodney for her ruined little black dress, before settling on a dark grey dress that would compliment her eyes.

  There, Ana wavered. She had the heels to make the dress – and really flatter her calves – but Grissom had asked her to wear sneakers. It was the only thing that Grissom had asked of her.

  Her heart full of misgivings, Ana pulled on her purple and black sneakers. They were wonderfully comfortable.

  Then Ana checked her makeup, put on a pair of dangly earrings, and added a matching necklace. Last of all, she put her wallet, cell phone, and lipstick in her smallest, cutest purse. Feeling pretty and excited, Ana went to loiter near the front door, ready and waiting for Grissom to arrive.

  At the first rap of his knuckles against her front door, Ana immediately swung it open. She didn’t even pretend that she wasn’t waiting for him.

  Grissom, his hand still raised to knock again, blinked down at her. His eyes widened, and Ana giggled.

  “Hi!” she chirped and waved a little – cutely, she hoped.

  Grissom’s handsome face softened into a smile.

  “Hi yourself,” said Grissom, his voice deepening. He dropped the one hand and raised the other, this one clutching a bouquet of red roses, which he offered to her.

  “Thank you!” Leaning into his side, Ana breathed in the roses’ sweet scent. “They’re lovely.”

  “You’re lovely,” returned Grissom, and Ana felt her face go hot with the force of her blush.

  “Come in a moment?” she asked.

  Without waiting for an answer, Ana turned away from the door. She had a vase in one of her cabinets, and it was into this that she put her roses, adding water and the included packet of flower food.

  When she turned back to him, Grissom was standing in the middle of her apartment and watching her with a promising intentness in his gaze.

  Anticipation shivered through her… and nerves, but most of all, excitement. With Grissom looking at her like that, all of her earlier efforts suddenly felt entirely worthwhile.

  Her apartment was small, and Grissom was at her side in a heartbeat.

  “You look like a storm,” he said huskily, as he touched her hair. Grissom fingered a lock of it, rubbing it gently between his thumb and first two fingers before tucking it behind Ana’s ear, his fingers lingering there.

  “I love storms,” added Grissom, and Ana’s belly clenched as much from the tone of his voice as the feel of the pad of his thumb tracing down the curve of her ear.

  “Me too,” said Ana, her voice high and breathy even in her own ears. “Usually.”

  Grissom made a low noise in his throat. Then he was leaning down to kiss her, and Ana was rising on her toes to meet him. Their lips met and clung, his mouth moving against hers.

  Heat flushed up Ana’s chest, and she moaned, allowing Grissom’s tongue to slip into her mouth as easily as his fingers slid into her hair. His other hand cupped the back of her neck, large and warm and so strong.

  Ana clung to him, her hands pressed against Grissom’s galloping heart.

  She felt Grissom’s hand move from the back of her neck, a warm press of palm and fingers down the line of her spine. Under it, Ana shivered and moaned, arching needily beneath his touch.

  Grissom broke the kiss then, his breathing as heavy as hers, and Ana whimpered a protest.

  Grissom huffed a laugh.

  “If we keep going, we’ll miss dinner,” he said; his voice low and rough.

  Ana made a wordless noise – food was the last thing on her mind – but she nonetheless pulled away from him.

  Grissom’s cheeks were flushed and his eyes bright. His dress shirt was rumpled – appealingly, in Ana’s opinion. Looking at him, Ana was grateful that she’d worn her good lipstick, not the cheap drugstore stuff that she usually wore an
d got on everything.

  Fortunately, he didn’t know that his mouth was clean.

  Her face was hot, but her cheeks flushed hotter as Ana reached up to touch his mouth, rubbing her thumb along Grissom’s lower lip.

  With a mischievous quirk of his lips, Grissom tipped his head to one side, catch Ana’s thumb between his lips, drawing it into his mouth. He swirled his tongue around it, spearing a red line of lust down the center of Ana. She sucked in a sharp breath.

  Before that moment, Ana hadn’t realized that any touch to her thumb could make her clit throb.

  Giving her thumb one last lick, Grissom let her go.

  “Ready to go?” asked Grissom, smoothing down his shirt. If not for his smirk, Ana might not have thought him as affected as she was. As it was, though, Ana couldn’t even resent his smirk. He deserved it.

  They were in his car and on their way to parts unknown, when Ana asked excitedly, “So, where are we going?”

  “It’s a secret,” said Grissom without looking away from the road. His grin was roguish. “But it’s good that you took my advice about the sneakers. You’re going to need them.”

  “We’re going running?” guessed Ana, teasing.

  “It didn’t seem like you wanted to run away from me earlier,” scoffed Grissom.

  “Rock climbing?” asked Ana, her voice strangled, although the only thing that she wanted to climb was Grissom. Would it really be like climbing a tree? Ana didn’t know, but she wanted to find out.

  Grissom slanted a quick look sideways at her, one that made Ana’s whole body flush with want.

  “We’re here,” he said, his eyes returning to the road as he turned into a small parking lot. There were a smattering of other cars in the lot, but otherwise it was deserted. The entire district seemed more or less deserted.

  As soon as the car was parked, Ana was out of it and looking around, trying to see where they were supposed to be going.

  “But there’s nothing here! What am I supposed to be looking at?” demanded Ana, her curiosity peaked.

  “Come on,” said Grissom, smiling. “I’ll show you.”

  Taking her hand, he led her half a block or so to plaza with a cheerfully splashing fountain. Golden lights set under the water feature made the fountain’s leaping streams of water seem to gleam and glow in the night.

  “It’s so pretty!” gasped Ana, trying to fix the sight in her mind’s eye.

  “I suppose so,” agreed Grissom, although he looked bemused. “But the thing that I want to show you is behind it.”

  “Oooh!” cooed Ana. She tugged on his hand. “Let’s go see it!”

  Ana led Grissom around the fountain to discover the shallow alcove tucked behind it. In the alcove was a nondescript door. With his knuckles, Grissom rapped on it.

  A moment later, the door swung open to reveal an older man with a trim form and grey-white hair. He was dressed in a tuxedo and had a leather bound book tucked under one of his arms.

  “Yes, sir?” murmured the man.

  “The password is ‘capsule’,” said Grissom, almost sounding bored. “Our reservation is under Hale, Grissom.”

  How could he be bored? Ana definitely wasn’t bored!

  Maybe he’s part of a lot more secret societies than I am? Ana thought wonderingly.

  “Ah, I see a table for two at seven thirty. You’re ten minutes early. That’s excellent,” said the… doorman? Maître d’? Really well-dressed bouncer? Whatever he was, he didn’t even need to consult his book. He just remembered their reservation.

  The only way that could be a thing, thought Ana, as Grissom escorted her inside, the maître d’ holding the door open for them, is if there weren’t a lot of reservations to remember in the first place.

  Wherever Grissom had brought her to, it was really upscale. Like, so upscale that no one in their right mind would have given her the password to get into it a million years. She probably couldn’t afford to so much as glance at their lunch menu – if they even had one – never mind actually ordering anything off of the dinner menu.

  It made her more than slightly anxious to think of Grissom spending so much money on a date with her. Ana had always heard that men expected things from women who chose to order the most expensive thing on the menu on a date. Here, it probably didn’t matter what she ordered. Everything was probably the most expensive thing on the menu. What would Grissom expect from her after tonight?

  “Are there any allergies or dietary restrictions that I should make the chef aware of?” asked the… probably a maître d’ as he led them down a short hallway to a staircase. “Something regarding shellfish or peanuts, perhaps?”

  Grissom looked at her inquiringly, and Ana shook her head.

  “No, none, thanks,” said Ana’s date, and the maître d’ inclined his head.

  Upstairs, there were a half dozen couples milling in front of a closed door. The men were dressed more or less like Grissom, but the women were wearing dresses that probably cost more than Ana had made in three months at any job that she had ever held. Their jewelry was probably worth even more than that.

  Looking at them, Ana’s heart sank. She suddenly felt very small. Standing next to them, she was going to look cheap.

  Next to them, she was cheap. And looking into those other women’s faces, watching their expressions shift as their eyes swept dismissively over her before lingering on Grissom more appreciatively, Ana knew that those other women thought so too.

  “Ana?” said Grissom, drawing her attention back to him. “Are you alright?”

  Looking up into his face, Ana realized that he didn’t see it. Concern had softened his features, but Grissom was still looking at her the same way that he always had: as if she was the only other person in the room.

  It warmed Ana right down to her toes.

  Her courage bolstered, Ana smiled up at him.

  “I’m great!”

  Chapter 08 – Grissom

  Looking into Ana’s smiling face, Grissom felt his unformed unease disappear.

  “I’m glad,” he said, and he reached out to tuck an unruly curl behind her ear, using it as an excuse to touch her. To his delight, Ana tilted her head to lean into his touch. “One of my cousins recommended this place to me. There’s only one menu, but the trick is, you have to eat it in the dark.”

  Ana’s eyes widened. “What if I can’t find my mouth?”

  Grissom laughed.

  “Well, at least no one will see it,” he said. After a beat, he remembered something that his cousin had said and added, “Except the servers. They’ll lead us to our table and bring us our food using night vision goggles.”

  “Huh,” said Ana. “That sounds neat. Hey, which hand do you use to eat? I don’t remember.”

  “The right.”

  “Oh good!” exclaimed Ana, and she slipped her smaller, softer hand into his. “I’m left-handed. I’ll just hold onto you then.”

  Momentarily speechless – all his first responses were wrong and entirely inappropriate besides – Grissom settled for gently squeezing her hand.

  Behind him, he heard the sound of footsteps approaching.

  “And then there were sixteen,” said the maître d’ as he lead a final couple over to their group. “If you will all link hands, I will show you to your tables now.”

  Grissom didn’t like the sound of that at all. He’d noticed the way that some of the other men had been looking at Ana, and he did not approve.

  The simplest solution, he decided, is to be at the end of the chain.

  It was a thing easier decided than done, but in the end Grissom managed it.

  The room that they were led into was dark, save for the light filtering into the room from behind them. In a glimpse, Grissom took in the sight of two large tables – each a little island set for eight and placed a fair bit of distance from anything else – and noted the lack of obvious obstacles between him and them. Then the door was shut behind them, plunging the room into pitch blackness.

/>   All along the line, there were yelps and gasps at the sudden darkness. For himself, Grissom tensed, even though he – like everyone else – had known that it was going to happen. Ana made no sound, though her grip on his hand was suddenly much harder. In fact, it was nearly painfully tight. Grissom flexed his fingers in hers, hoping to bring her some comfort that way.

  At least I’ve got her hand, thought Grissom, his fingers lightly squeezing Ana’s again. Around his hand, her grip slowly relaxed.

  The maître d’ led the long chain of diners first to one table and then to the other, Grissom and Ana finding seats at the second table.

  Ana lost her grip on his hand when Grissom clumsily tucked her into her seat, but when he was seated in the chair to her right, there was a slight pull against the table cloth before a touch brushed his elbow, startling Grissom.

  “Grissom?” whispered Ana, the fingers still pressing against the angle of his elbow. “Is that you?”

  “My elbow? Yes,” he murmured back, even as he shifted to take her hand again. This time, it was Ana who gently squeezed his fingers.

  The servers brought the first dish. It was quite possibly the most amazing thing that Grissom had ever put into his mouth, familiar and tender and delicious, though he didn’t quite know what it was until Ana said uncertainly, “Scallops? Maybe?”

  And in an instant, he knew that she was right.

  “Sea scallops,” he agreed happily. Grissom loved sea scallops.

  “I love sea scallops,” said Ana from the darkness to his left. She sounded as happy as he felt.

  “Me too,” agreed Grissom.

  It was a good start to an excellent meal.

  Ana’s first guess seemed to open the floor to guessing, and across the next seven courses, each no more than a handful of bites, everyone at their table tried to guess at what they were eating. When the next set of servers came, their guesses were confirmed or denied, and Grissom was proud to note that his date had the best palate.

  Afterwards, when their group had been led blinking and squinting back into the low lights of the hallway, Grissom pulled a laughing Ana against his side and kissed her soundly.