Page 49 of Speak of the Devil
“Then I think we can slap a ‘sold’ sticker on it,” he told her. “But maybe keep looking so I can see what I might be able to use for the bathrooms.”
In the end, they found pretty much everything he needed, including some dark gray Dolomite with off-white veining for the fireplace surround. The manager at the warehouse said it wouldn’t be a problem to store everything until it was needed, and once they were done, Caleb guided Delia back to his SUV, both his heart and his wallet feeling a lot lighter.
Because after the traffic accident, he hadn’t left the house, and instead had ordered DoorDash when he didn’t feel like making something to eat. He supposed one of the imps could have disguised itself as a delivery driver, except it still didn’t seem as if the demons had figured out where he lived, thanks to the way he made sure he was picked up or dropped off in other locations around town. That didn’t explain how the demon had known he was the one to summon that particular Uber, but he hoped he’d figure it out soon.
This was the first time he’d ventured out of the house since the accident, and on the drive over to Delia’s office, he’d kept looking from side to side, wondering if some random vehicle was suddenly going to ram him or maybe one of those annoying littleimp demons was going to pop up from the back seat and try to snap his neck.
None of those things had happened, though, and he had to wonder exactly what was going on here. Was it simply that he was in the company of a regular human being, and whoever was controlling those imps knew that sending them to attack him when there were mortal witnesses around wasn’t a very good idea?
That didn’t explain why they hadn’t come after him at his house, the place where he was most vulnerable. He might have been part demon, but he had to sleep like everybody else.
“Now can I buy you lunch?” he asked after he’d slid the receipts into his wallet and he and Delia were walking away from the sales counter. “Because I think this time we really have something to celebrate.”
He’d expected her to come up with some sort of excuse to avoid the meal, even though she’d half agreed to it already. Instead, she surprised him by saying, “Sure. I don’t need to be back at the office until two.”
They headed out to the parking lot and got into his Range Rover. He’d offered to drive, mostly because his vehicle was bigger and more luxurious, and Delia had gone along with the plan without argument.
So they drove to a nearby restaurant that served vaguely California-inspired fare, where they were seated quickly enough since they were coming in at the tail end of lunch. Before Delia could protest, Caleb ordered a bottle of pinot grigio, although she sent him a sideways look after the waiter headed off to fetch the wine.
“Hey,” he said with a grin, “at least I didn’t order champagne.”
“True,” she replied. Her mouth quirked at the corner, telling him she was trying to hold back a smile of her own. “I just have to hope my two o’clock won’t mind if I’m the slightest bit tipsy.”
He knew he wouldn’t mind. Although she’d been friendly and professional this whole time, he still hadn’t seen much slippage in her public veneer, and he wished she would let her guard down with him, if only a little bit.
After spending his entire life in Greencastle, surrounded by people he’d known since pretty much the day he was born, he had to admit there was something fascinating about being around someone who was a mystery to him.
“I’ll drink most of the bottle,” he offered, and Delia smiled outright.
“I appreciate your sacrifice.”
They both chuckled, then spent a minute or so studying the menu so they’d be ready to order once the waiter came back with their wine. Which he did soon enough, so Caleb was glad that he’d already settled on the chicken sandwich, while Delia ordered an Asian salad with grilled chicken.
Did she have to watch what she ate, or was she only being moderate because she didn’t feel like eating a heavy meal in the middle of the day? He couldn’t say for sure; she seemed naturally slender to him, willowy and tall, but maybe she really had to work at it to stay that slim.
“To Pueblo Street,” he said, lifting his wine glass, and Delia clinked hers against it.
“To closing the sale,” she responded. “And to the project ahead of us.”
They’d made one small step in that direction today with the order of the stone for all the various countertops. “You really think it’s going to take a whole six months?”
She sipped some pinot grigio. “Maybe a little less. It just depends on how quickly you can get a crew in there, and whetherall the materials you want are in stock or whether they’re on back order. I’m sure you’ll want custom cabinets, and those take a while.”
Right. He wanted the house to be a showplace when it was done, which meant he needed something a little fancier in the kitchen and bathrooms than a bunch of prefab cabinets from a big-box store. It wasn’t so much that he planned to entertain a whole lot, but more that he’d grown up in a large, elegant home, and while this one would be utterly different in design and feel, he thought it should still reflect a certain level of taste.
“Well, it’ll be an adventure,” he remarked, and helped himself to a swallow from his glass of wine.
Another smile. “That’s one way of looking at it.”
The waiter came over with their food, and they were quiet for a moment as they both attended to their meals. And although Delia had seemed cheerful enough at the stone warehouse and as they drove over to the restaurant, now Caleb couldn’t help thinking something about her seemed almost subdued, as if she had some sort of problem weighing on her mind, one that didn’t seem to have any connection to the house on Pueblo Street or its looming remodel.
If he’d known her better, he might have asked her what was wrong. As it was, he tried to keep the conversation going by talking about the various design choices for the home, and what she thought would be the best way to handle the ragged, overgrown front and back yards.
The last thing he could do was talk about the way an imp demon had attacked him in his Uber the day before, not when the hostess seated a couple of noisy men next to them, two guys who seemed to have the need to discuss their picks for the playoffs at the top of their lungs.
Although Delia’s expression remained neutral enough, Caleb thought he saw her wince when the bros let out a loud shoutof laughter. She might have spent some of her formative years playing in an all-girl punk band, but he could tell she had a low tolerance for idiots.
Yet another thing he liked about her.
