Strange.
But then I remembered that everyone expected me to be all nightwalker-from-hell. They all treated me like a mental patient on the brink of having a final breakdown.
Not tonight. Nothing could go wrong tonight. I seriously wouldn't allow it.
Amy and Barry were inside, and they both looked worried, their expressions growing graver as I approached.
"Sarah," Amy said warily. "Good to see you."
I gave her a quick look up and down. "Somebody's a blond again."
To go with her back-to-normal blond hair she wore a bright red miniskirt and sparkly white shirt with a red sequined heart over her chest. Barry wore his usual minituxedo.
She touched her hair. "I had it done this afternoon. My scalp feels like it's on fire."
"I know the feeling."
Her bottom lip wobbled. "I feel so horrible about everything."
"Forget about it." I smiled at her. "What are you drinking?"
"Um… it's a chocolate martini."
"Can I have a sip?"
Her expression changed to one of confusion. Then she lifted the glass. "Of course."
I took a quick sip. "That is dee-lish."
"Are you feeling all right?"
"I'm feeling fantastic. And you?"
"I'm… I'm okay."
Barry eyed me. "You are acting erratically."
"Am I?" I lunged forward and grabbed the little freak and gave him a big hug. Then I kissed him hard on his right cheek, leaving behind a kiss-shaped imprint of my lipstick.
"George," Barry said. "I'm told that you have a stun gun at the ready?"
George laughed. "I do, but it won't be necessary. Sarah's just in a really good mood tonight. Go figure."
Barry pursed his lips as he began working on the kiss mark with a paper napkin. "I can't think of a single reason, given everything that has transpired, why she should be."
"You are a pessimist, little man." I pointed at him. "You need to take Amy out and have some fun tonight. It's Valentine's Day, for Pete's sake."
"That would be nice," Amy agreed.
Barry nodded. "Later. Definitely later." He still frowned. "You look… well, Sarah."
I raised my eyebrows and glanced at Amy. "I think your husband is flirting with me. Better keep an eye on him."
Barry gasped. "I would never!"
"I'm just joking." I shook my head and laughed. "Honestly, sense of humor. Seek one out.
It'll change your life."
"Sarah?" Thierry said from behind me, and I turned around slowly.
"Happy Valentine's Day," I told him.
"And to you." His gaze slowly took me in. "Barry is quite right. You look very well indeed. I've been worried about you."
"I heard you were at George's earlier."
His expression shadowed. "I didn't want to leave, but knew that George would keep a watchful eye on you. There were certain last-minute details I had to attend to here before the club transfers to the new owners."
"Come with me." I curled a finger at him and then turned and walked through the club to his office. Once inside, I sat on the edge of his desk and waited for him to follow me. He did and then closed the door behind him.
"You are acting strangely," he said. "I know that finding the witch dead was a traumatic experience, but you mustn't lose hope. I will do everything in my power to find a way to break this curse. I swear to you, Sarah. It is the most important—"
I slid off the edge of the desk, closed the distance between us, and kissed him. Very hard and very deeply. I smiled against his lips as his hands curled around my upper arms and he brought me closer to him.
"What are you doing?" he breathed against my mouth.
"Kissing you." I kissed him again to prove my point.
He pulled away with effort. "I realize that, but it's not safe for us to be this close. Not until we figure all of this out."
"I've already figured it out."
He raised a dark eyebrow. "Oh, have you? And what have you figured?"
"You really want to know?"
"Very much."
I gave him a wicked smile as I began to remove my sweater, a smile that grew wider when
I saw how shocked he looked. However, he didn't try to stop me.
"This is not the time, Sarah," he said.
"Trust me, it is." I slipped the pink cashmere over my head so I sat on his desk clad only in my previously unworn light pink push-up bra, which left very little to the imagination. I threw the sweater at him and he caught it.