Things I’ll Never Say Read Online Free

But since he was promoted from GA to archangel, and my new supervisor at that, it’s been awkward between us.
    On the upside? Earthly pleasures — chief among them Chef Nora’s cooking. My ravioli is delish.
    Jamal reappears to pour another glass of porcine blood for Quincie and offer a frosted goblet of raspberry soda to me. He cocks one eyebrow at the glittery glass Cupid in the center of the table. “‘Paradise,’” Jamal says, flashing a smile. “That’s an old Temptations song. You know it, Joshua?”
    â€œCan’t say that I do,” I reply. “But I know something about temptation.”
    It sounds worse out loud than it did in my head, and Quincie’s suppressed snort of a laugh is in no way helpful. Meanwhile, a gaunt young man in a ghostly pirate costume marches across the room toward the hall. A jaunty captain’s hat completes the ensemble, and his face is painted in black-and-white stage makeup to look like a skull.
    â€œAhoy, matey,” Jamal greets him, pivoting away. “I’ll show you where you’re supposed to go.”
    The two chitchat as they exit together. Jamal makes the new arrival laugh. He’s good at that, putting people at ease. The hostess, Yanira, was saying only last night that she tries to seat guests on a first date — she claims to have a sixth sense about such things — in Jamal’s section because his low-key charm and good humor have a way of soothing their nerves.
    â€œYou like him,” Quincie whispers, leaning closer over the table.
    It’s as though she can read my mind. I play dumb anyway. “The cursed buccaneer?”
    â€œ
Jamal.
And he likes you, I can tell. But according to Sebastian, who told Mercedes, who told Freddy, who told me, he’s shy. I don’t think he’s ever had a boyfriend.”
    â€œYou little gossip!” Somebody’s put a lot of thought into this.
    She’s undaunted. “It’s Valentine’s Day. It’s a sign. You should ask him out.” Quincie pops an eye of newt into her mouth and sucks on it. “Are you allowed to ask him out? You know, being an angel and all and him . . . mortal? I know it’s not like being a priest. Zachary did his share of getting busy when he was earthbound.”
    I reach for my goblet of soda. “My sacred duty is to you.”
    â€œPfft,”
Quincie says, blowing auburn bangs out of her eyes. “I appreciate that heaven itself finds me worthy of a twenty-four–seven babysitter, but I’m getting exactly nada private sexy-fun time with my boyfriend. Either you find a boyfriend of your own or I’m going to have to sign you up for beading classes.”
    â€œI might enjoy beading classes,” I shoot back, stopping short at another newcomer’s appearance.
    An authentic-looking hell-spawn demon — from his pointy horns to his red spiky tail (it sticks out through a hole in the seat of his Levi’s) — strolls past us, does a jig across the dance floor, and disappears through the drapes leading to the back hall, blowing a kiss over his shoulder. I don’t know what his restaurant experience is like, but if I were Freddy, I’d hire him if only as a decoration.
    Refusing to be further distracted, Quincie arches an inquisitive brow at me.
“Joshua.”
    I repress a sigh. “Okay, cutie. I surrender. Rock on with your private sexy-fun time. It’s not my mission to cramp your style to the point you’re not experiencing this existence the way you should.” She and Kieren have reservations for dinner here tonight anyway. I can watch over her until after “Count Sanguini’s” signature midnight toast. “But leave my hypothetical love life out of it. I don’t think of Jamal that way.”
    Quincie licks her spoon. “Last time I checked, lying is a top-ten sin.” She frowns. “Speaking of sins, we were talking about sex