Isabella

Unlocking the door to the shop is always an interesting trick. When the place is open, it looks like any other storefront on the street. When it’s closed up, the shutters seem like they are the average type, and so does the door, when in reality, it was all a very sophisticated security system with a dozen spells layered in and an entry pad that required a DNA verification and a pin code.

“Why all the heavy security?” Bill asked. He looked up at the name “Greystone Acquisitions,” he said. “That sounds rather stately. Is that your last name?”

I didn’t answer as I opened the door and led us inside. I could have used the back entrance, but Bill wouldn’t have fit. Or maybe he would have. He had gotten himself into that vault after all. Plus, I wasn’t ready to show him that yet. Though that’s what we were here to see. If he needed a show of trust, he’d get one. Then I would find out if it was worth it to trust him in return.

“We’ve been seeing each other for three months, and you’re only now asking about my last name?” I tried to keep my tone even. I was suddenly irritated, protective. I recognized what I was doing, but I felt helpless to stop it.

“I'm cautious. For instance, I have all of these pet names in my head for you, and I’ve refrained from saying any of them in a mild fear of pissing you off somehow.”

That indicated he knew more about how I handled myself emotionally than even I realized sometimes. Emotions were memories. I could be pleasant and polite, give a genuine smile, casually talk, even laugh. However, dating was new. I guarded my memories and my emotions because it was the safe thing to do. Up until this point, we hadn’t needed anything deeper than attraction and mutual satisfaction.

Being angry with Bill for not talking to me about his new toy made me realize I had to let him in if I wanted him to trust me, if I wanted him. To be honest, I wasn’t sure about the last part. Wanting things made my life complicated, though I realized I didn’t want to push Bill away either. I liked to live in the gray areas because it kept me safe. It’s why I spend a fortune on things that would keep me from being caught. It’s why I was very good at my job.

“So, you were afraid I would be upset about pet names and not an artifact? That’s amusing.” I let the irritation in my tone speak for itself.  I walked toward the back of the showroom and turned around. Bill was still next to the door.

“I…” Bill stood in the middle of my showroom. His voice lacked the playfulness it had a moment ago. “You’re still angry with me, aren’t you.” It wasn’t a question, he knew. He wanted confirmation.

I realized I was, and now that he was in my place, I wasn’t sure I wanted him there any longer. I couldn’t afford to be angry or emotional. Mistakes were made where emotions were involved. “This was a bad idea. I’m sorry, Bill. Maybe you should go home.”

“Why did you bring me here?” He asked. His tone was quiet, though his face was tense with concern, and his eyes held mine in a subtle plea of understanding. He didn’t move and became less human-seeming as every moment passed that I didn’t answer.

“I want you to trust me,” I said. Simple. Though my reasons for that were anything but simple.

“Do you want me to trust you because of the relationship we’re developing,” he picked up a bobble from the shelf next to him. It was one of many antiques on display. The one in his hand was a vintage sexton with the unique property of projecting onto a map. It was one of the first made. The original magic was still intact, which made it valuable. “Or do you want it for your personal gain?”

The mild tone of irritation in his voice made me feel guilty and then angry for feeling guilty. I was upset with him for not being honest about the stone, and he was also upset. It may be because I wasn’t honest about why I wanted him here. The human act he wore so well was slipping away. I wasn’t sure if that was because he was trusting me or letting his emotions get the better of him.

Bill put the sexton back on the shelf. When I didn’t answer him, he turned toward the front door. When he reached for the handle, I summoned the courage to say something. To say the honest thing, since I wasn’t completely sure myself.

“I don’t know.”

He shook his head slightly and turned the doorknob and opened the door.

“Look. Since I tried to take your sacrificial werewolf head, or whatever the hell it’s called, we've been tangled up in each other. I haven’t figured out how to separate my work from my life. My work is my life. It’s what I do. It’s who I am.”

Bill let the door close again, but didn’t turn back toward me. I don’t know if I could have kept going if he looked at me.

“I want you to trust me enough to tell me about things like the stone and maybe even let me get them for you. I also want to trust you with who I really am. Not the thief or the business I run or the disguises I wear.”

He looked over his shoulder at me, and I spread my arms to encompass the showroom to make a point. I dropped my arms, and I took a few steps in his direction. I could probably stop him from leaving, but that wouldn’t build the trust I suddenly, desperately wanted.

I lowered my voice, trying to make the tone even, but I could hear the fear and anger underneath as my voice wavered. “I like whatever this is that we are doing. I’ve never been with someone this long. I’m out of my depth with this relationship stuff, and that makes me frustrated and angry. And if I’m honest, scared.”

I felt like I’d had a truth spell dropped on me, though I knew that wasn’t the case. I wanted to trust Bill as much as I wanted him to trust me. There was only one other person in my life like that, and she was my best friend.

Could anyone really trust a demon? Maybe that’s what ended his other relationship. I banished the thought before it led me down a rabbit hole. Bill had never lied to me. He may not tell me things, but when I asked questions, he told me the truth. I knew that much.

Bill let go of the door and turned back toward me and closed the distance between us. He reached to put his hands gently on my shoulders. The more human, concerned version of Bill seemed to slip back into place. “Then how about we take this one step at a time, hmm?”

“Okay.”

“What’s your last name?”

“Gobel.”

He nodded. “Now, what did you want to show me?”

“Follow me. Please.” I took his hand and led him to the back office, then up a flight of stairs to my apartment. He followed without a comment or a quip. If I could sweat, I was pretty sure my hands would have been sticky with it. It was the first time in my life I’d ever been nervous.

Seduction, theft, witty banter, sales, survival, or any number of things I’ve done in my life up until this point, I can’t even say any amount of nerves were involved. The minute I bring anyone back to my place for the first time, I feel like I’m trying to sneak him past parental figures I’d no longer remembered or never had. It was one more odd sensation to chalk up to all the other ones rapidly following what originally was a much less complicated evening.