Мишель Роуэн - Angel with Attitude

“I, uh, wanted to talk to you. But—” Val glanced at the balloon, then again at the now thankfully dressed Alexa, “I’m thinking it can wait a bit. Should I be saying ‘happy anniversary’ to you today?”

Barlow’s gaze shifted to the woman, then he sighed heavily and shook his head. He stood up from the chair, walked over to the ribbon, and pulled the balloon down from the ceiling.

“Not necessary,” he said, then popped the balloon between his palms.

Val jumped at the sudden noise. “Bad balloon?”

He let the limp piece of rubber fall to the carpet.

Alexa was now pouting. “Baby, why did you do that?”

He rolled his eyes. “How many times do I have to ask you not to call me ‘baby’?”

Her pout deepened.

Val was very confused. Barlow was an old man, easily in his mid-seventies. His face was deeply lined, and his eyes always looked as if they’d seen too much and just wanted to stay shut. His hair was thick but white, just like his eyebrows, and he wore black-rimmed glasses.

She’d seen a few pictures of Barlow in his twenties, and he’d been a hottie in his time. That time had passed.

Now he was a nice, harmless old man.

A nice, harmless old man who had a gorgeous woman who didn’t look a day over twenty-five calling him baby? Maybe he was filthy rich and she just didn’t know it.

But as confused as she was by the two of them, it was none of her business.

Val shifted nervously from one foot to the other. “I’ll just get out of your hair and let you get back to . . . whatever it was you were doing.”

“Are you all right?” Barlow asked, his brow wrinkling even further.

She shrugged. “I’ve been better. I’ll talk to you later.” She glanced at Alexa again. “If you aren’t too tired, that is.”

Alexa grinned at her. She was really gorgeous with long, raven-colored hair, a tight black skirt, and four-inch spiked heels that showed off mile-long legs. Creamy flawless skin, full red lips. The woman positively glowed.

And I clean toilets, Val thought.

“I’ll call first,” she said.

“Valerie—” Barlow began as she turned away. “Uh . . . very well. We’ll speak later.”

“Valerie?” Alexa repeated. “As in, Valerie Grace?”

Val glanced at her. “That’s right.”

She smiled. “Very interesting.”

“Alexa . . .” Barlow’s voice held an edge of warning. “Leave her alone.”

Her smile widened. “Valerie, dear, would you care for a piece of cake?”

Val’s stomach growled. The cake did look pretty tasty.

“Well,” she glanced at Barlow. “So . . . uh, you didn’t tell me. What’s the occasion? Whose anniversary is it, anyhow?”

“Ours.” Alexa moved toward the cake and started cutting it up with a big knife.

“‘Ours,’ as in who?”

“Me and Barty. It’s our fiftieth anniversary.” Alexa slipped the first piece of chocolate cake onto a paper plate and brought it to Val.

She frowned with confusion. “Fifty what?”

“Alexa,” Barlow growled. “I’m warning you.”

She laughed. “Fifty years of being together.”

“Fifty years?” Val shook her head. “How is that possible?”

“Valerie, dear.” Alexa smiled and shook her pretty head. Val looked into her eyes and saw the flames dance behind them. “Haven’t you figured it out yet? I’m Barty’s assigned Tempter.

He’s a fallen angel just like you.”

“Huh?” Val squeaked. “He’s a what?”

“A fallen angel,” Alexa repeated. “You look surprised.”

Val stared at Barlow with wide eyes. He was a fallen angel just like her? When did that happen? Did she miss the memo? No, it was impossible. She would have known something like that, wouldn’t she? Sense it somehow?

A fallen angel just as she was.

And Alexa was a demon just like Nathaniel?

No way.

Barlow didn’t say anything to either deny or agree with what Alexa said. He went back to his armchair and sat down heavily.

Val’s mouth felt dry and her heart pounded hard and fast.

Alexa looked at her appraisingly. “So I see that Nathaniel hasn’t succeeded yet?”

“What?”

“Nathaniel. He must have made contact with you by now. Didn’t he manage to sweep you off your feet?”

Val turned her stunned gaze to the beautiful demon. “Not even close.”

“Is it perhaps that he’s simply not your type?” Alexa walked a slow circle around Val, looking her up and down, then smiled. “I find that hard to believe. He’s quite something, don’t you think? Tall, dark, and handsome. A voice that melts against your skin like chocolate. Full lips meant to be kissed. A body meant to be worshipped. But if he’s not your type . . .” She trailed off expectantly and raised an eyebrow.

Val swallowed. There was no way she was going to admit that everything Alexa had just said was true. She’d only been human for two months, but if she had to admit to having a “type,” then Nathaniel was it. But, nope. She wasn’t going to admit that. “He’s not, okay?”

Her smile held. “Then perhaps I should pay you a visit some time, instead. It would be my pleasure.”

“Alexa,” Barlow said. “That’s enough.”

She moved her flame-filled gaze from Val’s to look at the old man. “I was simply trying to be helpful.”

“I find that difficult to believe. Just go away.”

She pouted, and her hurt expression didn’t look completely put on. “But it’s our anniversary.”

He stood up quickly to stare at her, but started coughing so violently that he had to cling to the side of his chair. Alexa rushed to his side.

“Baby, are you all right?” She murmurred, stroking his hair, his arm, his back. “It’s okay. I’m here.”

Val frowned at her and felt a flood of concern for Barlow. That was not a healthy cough.

He finally got it under control, straightened up and shrugged her hands off him. “I’m fine.”

“No you’re not.”

“I said, I’m fine.”

Alexa sniffed and looked at Val who was surprised to see tears in her eyes. “He won’t admit it to anyone but he’s gravely ill.”

“Alexa,” he growled.

She shook her head. “You are. You can’t fool me. I can see the disease eating away at you.

I’ve tried to ignore it, but I can’t anymore. I won’t ignore it. You’re sick. You need to use my gift before it’s too late.” She moved toward him again, but he held his hand out to stop her from getting any closer.

“I’m not promising anything. Leave.”

She sniffed. “I’ll return.”

“I know.”

She glanced at Val. “Try to talk some sense into him, would you? He can either finally agree to come with me and I will take care of him and ensure nothing bad ever happens to him, or he can make use of the key. There isn’t much time left.”

Val opened her mouth to say something, although she wasn’t sure what, when Alexa disappeared behind a column of flame leaving Barlow and her alone.

He’d pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and coughed into it some more. When he took it from his mouth Val could see a spot of red on it. Her heart clenched.

“You need to see a doctor.”

“No doctors. I’m fine. Just a bit of a cold is all,” he murmurred and wiped his mouth. “Sounds like your cold has cleared up finally. It was a bad one, wasn’t it?”

It was true. Ever since Nathaniel healed her ankle last night, her head cold congestion had become less and less . . . congested. She felt almost completely healthy again.

“You’re a fallen angel?” she blurted out.

He didn’t say anything for a long moment. Then finally, “Yes, I am.”