FSE

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It was a typical Wednesday afternoon--nothing special--just me, myself, and Isometry homework for math class. I fucking hate math. Luckily, and to brighten my mood a bit, I'd been able to lay claim to my favorite booth at Starbucks to study in.

I called her Eden. She was on the second floor of the monstrous coffee shop frequented by caffeine addicted college students like myself. On one side of her was a wall--a balcony almost--that overlooked the first floor; you could lean over and peer straight down into the territory behind the counter meant only for baristas. Behind me and to the other side were the wall-encompassing windows with an aerial view of Calhoun Street. I had some nice vantage points. Those were two reasons why I liked Eden, but the biggest reason why I loved this booth was because she was like a little alternate pocket dimension, one which only I could see. No one ever bothered me while I was here. I went by unnoticed. Of course, I was fine with that. I preferred to be alone while wallowing in the agony of complex equations. Well, I was used to being alone in general.

I'd only been here long enough to order coffee and food and spread my books and papers all over the tabletop. I'd flipped the cover of my math text open, stared blank and uninterested to the pages assigned, then shoved the complex bastard away.

From here I was like clockwork.

I knew I had to do my problems, but I didn't want to. I'd sit here until the barista downstairs yelled for me to come and get my food and drink, waging a fruitless war with myself in protest of being unproductive, then I'd all but forget the homework and stare out of the windows while I ate. I was so predictable that it hurt. The scenario never seemed to change and just ticked, ticked, ticked on again and again. I was boring.

No, I was really boring; and that fact seemed to take a lot of other furs by surprise. I guess it's because I don't look like a recluse or mental case. My clothes aren't ratty, my hair and fur are always well kempt, and--if I had to choose--I'd say I was an attractive guy. Maybe it's stereotype, but I guess being an athletic, good looking, preppy-dressing male passes me off as a rich frat-partier with nothing better to do than get wasted and bang chicks left and right. Well, I'm not rich for one thing, and I don't bang chicks. I'm not even attracted to chicks. I like guys. I'm a subby too--a lover--and even though I'm just a black cat my build doesn't register as "submissive" to other gay males. They always expect me to be the dominant, jock type who's going to fuck them senseless, but that's not me at all. Extrovert? Nope. I'm not that kind of...

I squeaked as something smacked me in between the eyes and thunked onto the tabletop. It was a wadded up ball of paper with a stale lump of bread inside to give it a nice tossing weight; Lincoln's method of getting my attention.

"Yo, Danny! Yer' grub is ready!" he yelled from below. I pulled myself up in the booth and peered over the edge of the balcony to see my stocky, red and white Pit bull friend smirking at me. He hooted a laugh as I rubbed the spot where the ball had hit me. "Did I actually get'ya that time?" His sharp little tail flicked giddily and tossed his apron strings around.

"Yeah, it was a nice shot, you ass," I chuckled, flinging the paper wad back at him. He ducked out of the way and the ball bounced into a pot of decaf and bobbed around. "Whoops," I gasped. He quickly fished it out before anyone could see. "Sorry."

"Eh," he said shrugging. "Nobody drinks that anyway. Come and get yer' stuff. I ain't a waitress. I ain't bringin' it to ya."

"You're such a gentleman," I said in falsetto, batting my eyes at him. I then yanked my head back, a cube of ice sailing between my ears and shattering against the ceiling, chips raining cold down my back. Man, what a guy.

I flitted down, grabbed my tray, and thanked Lincoln for "paying" for me--really thanked him. There was no sarcasm, as much as he expected it. He knew me too well. The two of us had met as freshman and--to my surprise--hit it off. He really was a great friend, and the fact that he worked here at the almighty Starbucks made him the best of the best of best friends. He always gave me free claim to any deli items that would be tossed when the store closed. The free coffee was a perk too. No one ever noticed how he slipped it to me, especially taking into account how much of the brew the 'Bucks went through in a day. My Grande cup was but a trifle, and refills were only fifty cents. Even I had that.

So back up to Eden I carefully trekked with my tray, but I paused at the top of the stairs. This was unexpected--there was someone sitting at a table a few spots from mine. I don't know why that fact made my head reel. It was just...odd. I hadn't even seen them slip by me. They must have come up when I was talking with Lincoln. Hardly anyone ever came up here this late, too. And they were so close to my booth, my pocket dimension, my Eden covered in papers and books like I lived there. I even felt alarmed by their proximity.

God, I knew I was unsocial, but geesh.

My tail-tip flicked like a metronome as I strode by the fur--a wolf, silver, and a good size at that. I paused after sitting my tray down, realizing we'd be facing each other if I sat where I had been. I didn't know why that bothered me. Though, it bothered me even more to have someone at my back, so I sucked it up and slid into the booth.

I grabbed my Grande latte and took a sip, sneaking a peak at the lupine intruder. I thought I was being casual about it, and I didn't think he'd notice because he was reading a book he'd flattened on his table, but just as I was taking him in his eyes flicked up and met my own. Oh God. My face flushed, and it wasn't because of the mouthful of hot coffee I'd sucked in when he'd caught me staring: It was because he was really cute. He even smiled at me. His eyes were gorgeous--like liquid sapphire--and for the life of me I could not look away.

"Hi," he said holding my gaze over the rim of his glasses, smiling so warmly.

I could have said hi back; it would have been the simplest thing. Just one word--hi--and done. But, no, I instead went with the "sputter hot liquid out of my mouth like a stroke victim" approach. It worked wonders and stained my favorite white polo all in one go. His blue eyes expanded as he grimaced, and then he thumbed up his specks and fell back into his book. My whimper of embarrassment he heard, I'm sure. He didn't look back up though. And when Lincoln called out a name--Cooper--he got up and trundled downstairs. He didn't return after a few minutes like I expected, long enough to grab his drink and climb the stairs. I probably scared him off. He even left his book. I was such a twerp.

Oh well, like anything would have come from that brief moment of eye contact. Still, he was...No! I screamed in my head. Focus! Homework! My stomach growled. Okay, sandwich! Then homework!

I latched my claws into my turkey chipotle and took a bite. The bread was warm, doughy, and still held the faint taste of yeast that I adored; the meat was moist and rich with spicy, savory flavor; the lettuce was crisp and had just the right amount of crunch to it; the pepper jack cheese had the perfect twang, and it had melted just enough to string out when I pulled my muzzle back to chew. It was delectable; quite satisfying.

But yet I didn't feel satisfied, even when I was halfway done. The wolf, Cooper, he still hadn't come back. That bothered me. Why the hell did it bother me?

I finished my sandwich and reluctantly--oh so reluctantly--pulled my textbook in front of me. I held my pen between my fingers, flicking it back and forth. I bid my brain to decipher the scrawl of alien-looking symbols and equations, and then, just when I thought I'd hit a breakthrough, something was shoved in front of me and derailed my train of thought. It was a Venti cup of coffee; big, silver furred fingers were wrapped around the base. I looked up into two bright, abysmally blue eyes.

"Hi," Cooper said.

"Hi," I moaned, skin tingling as he invited himself into Eden's seat opposite to me. No one had ever sat there before. Not while I was here at least.

He slowly unwrapped his paw from around the coffee cup and pulled it back, making sure the thing wasn't going to spill seeing as it was perched atop the dip of my textbook. I didn't care if it spilled, though. That book could burst into flame and I wouldn't have batted an eye. Still, I grabbed the cup and pulled the text out from underneath it.

"What's, uh, this for?" I asked as I sat the latte down.

His ears swiveled around as plates clanked together downstairs, as did mine, and he chuckled and pointed to the brown streak down the front of my polo. "I felt bad about that."

He did? "Why?" I asked. It wasn't his fault I'd had a mental relapse upon seeing how gorgeous he was. Well, it really was, but that was beside the point.

"Uh," he mumbled. He looked around awkwardly for a moment before shrugging and eyeing me again. He pushed his glasses up with a finger. "I...I don't really know. I just thought it'd be nice." He smiled bashfully and blushed. It was odd to see and made my own face burn with heat. I wasn't used to having someone his size be so sheepish. He kind of reminded me of myself, albeit twice as stocky and of a different species.

"It was nice," I said giddily. "It was actually more than nice," I said much too giddily, twittering a laugh at the end that made me sound like a she-male version of Glenda the good witch. He smirked. I blushed harder and cleared my throat. He probably thought I was even loonier now than before.

"I'm glad," he said, sitting straighter and seeming to jut up another foot. Then the dreaded, awkward silence set in like a fog thick and vinegary from a remote corner of the ocean. It weighed down hard on me. I knew he'd get enough after a while and leave, and I didn't want him to. Still, I couldn't think of what to say. Then he did as I had expected: He seemed to shrink, and then he scooted out of the bench with a sideways smile and turned his back on me. I clasped my eyes shut and groaned inwardly at my own stupidity. Then Eden shuddered, and I opened my eyes again to find him opposite to me once more. He'd just gone to get his own coffee and the book he'd been reading. He beamed at me and I lit up on the inside. He took a sip of his drink and laid the book down. "Hope you don't mind if I sit with you. I thought it'd be alright seeing as we're the only two up here, and who wants to sit by themselves, you know?"

Me: Danny Curtis--on a normal day. Not now though. "No clue," I said.

He reached a massive paw over the table. "I'm Cooper by the way. Cooper Hughes."

"I heard. I'm Danny," I said taking his paw. My arm sparked as we touched. "Danny Curtis."

"So, Danny, you don't mind me popping a squat?"

I shook my head in earnest. Why would I have minded? Well, if he'd been any less of what he made himself out to be I may have turned him away, but no--he was either a genuine sweetheart or a really good actor. He didn't seem like the type for theater either; football or pro wrestling maybe, but not drama. I could have been wrong though, especially after I saw the title of the book he was reading.

"Oh my God," I sputtered in surprise.

His eyed popped. "What?"

I pointed to the book. "Luna? I love that story!"

He grinned, and his eyes--as gorgeous as they had been before--seemed to truly open for the first time. "Really?" he asked.

I nodded. "It's one of my favorites."

Luna was a book about a transgender teen struggling to come to terms with who he was--a female trapped in a male body--told from the perspective of his younger sister. It was an incredibly gripping story, nerve racking in its bitter truthfulness and doses of reality. I'd discovered it when I was coming to terms with my own sexuality. It helped me accept who I was. I couldn't believe Cooper--this macho wolf--was reading it. He was surprised by my surprise it seemed.

"It's one of my favorites too." He traced a finger over the cover of the book. "So," he mumbled, his voice trailing off as he bowed his head a little. His ears turned toward me. "Are you..."

"Trans? No..."

He chuckled. The warm sound of it filled me up. I could have listened to him laugh forever. "I was going to say 'gay,' but thanks for clearing that up I guess."

I died.

A smile curled coyly across his muzzle and I recovered a little. "Oh. Well, yeah, that too." I tried to calm down more. I reached for my coffee to take a sip, but the cup was far lighter than I remembered. I always drank too fast. Cooper saw my predicament and reached across the table to scoot the coffee he'd brought in front of me. I smiled. "Thanks."

"No worries," he said humbly. "And it should be your favorite. The barista said it was."

I cocked an eyebrow and peered at the side of the cup to see the famous Starbucks chicken-scratch that only their employees could decipher. Well, them and me. There was the abbreviation "CDL"--Cinnamon Dolce Latte--an "N" above that meaning it was made with non-fat milk, and then a "+2" in the box for extra shots. Cooper hadn't lied: This was my favorite drink. Crap, I'd be wired for the rest of the night after drinking this puppy.

"Is it?" he asked.

"Yeah, but you really didn't have to get me this."

He shrugged. "I know I didn't have to, but I wanted to." He smirked, leaned back, and thumbed up his glasses again. The light from the setting sun outside glared the lenses white, and his once enchanting gaze became anything but. "I'll be very upset if you refuse it," he said mechanically. I gulped down the lump that had clotted in my throat. He barked a laugh and leaned forward. "I'm just kidding."

"Oh thank God," I sputtered in relief.

"Do drink it though," he said. "I'll feel terrible otherwise."

I didn't want that. I took a sip and the delight that spread across his face made me melt. He was so..."Delicious," I affirmed.

"So," he said as he leaned toward me. "Why were you up here by yourself?" His ears perked expectedly.

"Uh, well..." I spread my arms across the table where my books and papers still lay untouched.

His tail thumped against his seat as he smirked. "Not getting much done are you?"

"No." I never, ever did. "I despise this crap. It's giving me stress lines."

A pleasant rumble carried up from his chest. He then said something I never in a million years would have expected to hear. It struck me dumb. Well, dumb-ER...

"That's crazy," he purred. "You're gorgeous."

Huh? My eyes must have been as big around as my sandwich plate. I shook my head. He couldn't have meant that.

"What?" I asked.

He didn't bat an eye but answered me right away. "You're. Gorgeous." He smiled at seeing how flustered I was, how I still looked confused. "Gorgeous? Handsome? Dashing? I can go on..." But he didn't. Instead he wriggled his eyebrows playfully and took a sip of his coffee.

Not that I wasn't flattered by him, I mean I was more than flattered--overwhelmed even--but moments like this that always seem too good to be true usually are in my case. He had my attention, there was no doubt about that, but something...didn't feel quite right. Was he sincere? Maybe. Was he hiding something? Oh, hell yes. I'd met his type before: He was the charmer. Everything about him--his polished demeanor, his chiseled physique and striking good looks, his subtle but powerfully seductive way with words--was being used for one thing.

"Cooper," I said softly to mask the anger growing like a sparked fire in my chest. "What do you want?"

That caught him off guard. His smile quivered downward a bit. No doubt he thought he had me. "I beg your pardon?"

"Why are you here?"

"Well, I...I," he stuttered.

I leaned toward him and crossed my arms on the table. My tail was flicking away and polishing the floor. "It's just this: No one ever comes up here this late; no one ever wants to sit with me; no one wants anything to do with me; no one likes me; no one flatters me like you did; no one does anything like this..." I pointed toward the coffee he'd bought for me. "...and no one has ever been so nice."

He didn't seem too overwhelmed by anything I'd said. In fact, it appeared as though he regained his composure. He smiled softly and just peered at me, his eyes betraying nothing to me but beauty. "So you think me being here and being friendly is all a ruse?"

"Sorry, but yes," I said with a shrug.

He shook his head. "Wow," he sighed, adjusting his glasses and leaning back, draping his arms across the back of his seat. "You're good."

What now? I hate to say it, but even though my instincts had been right--they always were--I was still a bit shocked that he'd admit he was deceiving me.

My ears fell and I chewed nervously on the inside of my cheek. Why? Why did this always happen?

I looked down. "So, all of that was..."

"Completely sincere," he chimed. I jerked my head back up to find him grinning at me again. "I meant every word of it."

"But?"

"But," he sighed. "I do want something."

Of course. "What?"

He turned and peered coolly out of the windows. His face was bathed in the bitter, white glow of the streetlamps and store signs that lit up the now darkened street. Night had finally fallen like a drape over the city. It was the domain of the restless now.

"Come with me somewhere," he finally said. He turned to read my reaction to his demand and smiled reassuringly when it was anything but ecstatic.

I wasn't a night-goer. Nocturnal? Sure, but that was a trait bestowed upon me which I'd worked to overcome. It wasn't part of my nature any more. Still...

Cooper's ears perked as I spoke. "Where?" I asked. "And why?"

He looked so happy that I was considering this. "You'll see, and it's no place bad; I promise. As for the why..." He winked and I turned red. "Well, it'll be a surprise."

Ugh. That word--surprise--_it soured in my ears. I _hated surprises.

"Come on," he pleaded. "I know you don't have anything better to do. And all that..." He flicked through some pages of my math book. "It's not going anywhere."

Man, he was sure of himself, but--did he say...I aimed a cursory glance at him. "How exactly do you know I don't have anything better to do?"

And yet another instance of me catching prince charming off guard.

He didn't try to hide anything though, not even his unbridled blushing. "I, uh...I've been watching you."

Well, that's not creepy. Though, after I thought about it for a moment it kind of wasn't. I smiled. Even when he was debasing himself he was flattering. He was masterful--something else entirely. I'd never met anyone like him before.

What the hell. "Fine."

He jerked around excitedly, and his tail began to pound the crap out of poor Eden. "Really?"

I started shoving all of my things back into my backpack. "Yes, 'really.' Just give me a second."

He waited dutifully, and once I was situated we scurried down the steps, waved goodbye to Lincoln, and I followed along behind while he navigated through the streets.

I could say I felt uneasy, but, in all honesty, I was more curious than anything. I was being lead somewhere by a guy I didn't know, to a place I'd probably never been, to do only God knows what. This was a new experience for me, something outside my nature and private dimension. I was being adventurous for once. I could have been back at Starbucks doing homework or at my apartment drinking tea and watching British TV shows. But I wasn't. It was exhilarating.

"This way," Cooper beckoned. He then sidestepped a fire hydrant and disappeared down a dark alley.

Really? I thought. God. I'm going to get raped or murdered or something. He's going to rape and murder me. I skirted the fire hydrant and trudged warily into the alley. It was as dark as sin and it smelled like sh...wait. I took another whiff and went further into the dark. Was that...*sniff*...is that...*sniff*...Roses? Roses and...

"BOOOOOOAAAHAHAHAHAARGH!"

"AAAAHHHHSHITFUCKBASTARDWHORE!"

Cooper had been hiding behind a dumpster and had leaped out cackling like a troll as I'd walked past. Now he was clutching his stomach where I'd socked him with all of my frightened might, leaning against a brick wall of one of the buildings along the alleyway. He was still laughing too, even though he could hardly breathe.

"You cock sucker!" I squealed, my body shaking from adrenaline.

"Sorry," he gasped and giggled. "I...couldn't...pass that...up."

I just grumbled and burned red-hot where I stood. My tail was flicking so maddeningly that it was starting to hurt. "Where the hell are you taking me?"

He pushed himself off of the wall and hobbled forward. His expression was still so happy and delighted. I forgot my anger at him instantly and felt shame at hitting him instead.

"Down here," he said with his tail wagging. "You don't smell it?"

"Yeah," I said. The aroma was getting stronger the further down the alley we went. "What is that anyway?"

"Czech & Speake Dark Rose," he said matter-of-factly. "And Rose water too. Smells good doesn't it?"

It did, I had to admit. The scent clouded magically through the alley and drew me on toward its source like the breath of a siren. I closed my eyes to savor the spicy-sweetness of it and ran into Cooper who'd stopped walking. The smell was more potent now than ever.

"We're here," he said calmly.

I looked around expecting to see some magnificent spectacle--a monument, a store, an establishment, even a sign for one--but there was nothing. We were still in the confined space of the alleyway, standing next to an old cellar hatch with a lock on it. The worn planks of the thing looked inconspicuous, and the grungy brick walls revealed nothing but moss and wads of old chewing gum stuck to their surfaces.

My eyes widened, and I peered around to look extra carefully, but still nothing appeared. Until, that is, Cooper nestled his paw beneath my chin and lifted my head to peer up at the side of the building where the cellar hatch was.

There on the surface of the brick and painted with inky paint, was me--well, a black cat that happened to look a lot like me. It was in a vector style with his clothing--a suit--defined by white lines, his arms tucked behind his back and a red Rose--the only vibrant color in the mural--held in his mouth. I then looked down to the cellar hatch. The scent, that floral aroma, was coming from it. My eyes traced over the tightly packed wooden planks, and as I looked closely I could see a faint, reddish-pink glow through the small cracks between them. Then, tucked in the bottom corner of the right hatch door, I saw writing. It was beautifully rendered and calligraphic: "Salem Rose."

"Where," I began, but Cooper held up a finger and silenced me. Then he pulled a key from somewhere on his person and unlocked the cellar door. He then paused, and stepped carefully to the side as he pulled the thing open.

There were stairs. I mean, of course there were stairs. But the door at the bottom of them illuminated with a flickering, magenta neon sign that read "Welcome" was what caught my attention. The fragrance from before wafted up from the cellar with cool, enticing gusts of air; you couldn't help but want to go down. However...

"This is kind of shady," I told Cooper as I stepped back from the cellar. "What is this place? A sex club?"

His warm laughter filled the alleyway and made my skin tingle and fur stand pleasantly on end. "No, no, no," he assured. "Far from it actually, but I can see why you'd think it was--why you'll still think it is."

I was confused. Was it a sex club or not?

"Here," he said as he dug around in his back pocket. His round, corded shoulders bunched as he fought to pull out his wallet, and once he had it he yanked something from it and handed it to me. "You'll need this."

I took the thing. It was a business card with the same logo of the dapper black cat and elegant writing, but that was it. It didn't tell me what this place was. "Need this for what?"

I looked up and Cooper was gone. My ears flicked to the sound of footsteps descending the staircase to the cellar, and I jumped forward in time to see him disappear through the door at the bottom. I blushed again. He'd winked at me before going in.

"Dammit," I growled, looking down at the card again. "What the hell."

To go or not to go, that was the question. I wanted to, that was for sure, but...I don't know. This place had the look of debauchery all over it. This wasn't a place for someone like me. I was boring, remember? I had a mundane routine that I couldn't diverge from.

Why, then, was I stepping carefully down those steps? Why was I clutching that card in my paw as though it were my toll to pay Charon to ferry me into the afterlife? As though it was my ticket to something better and more deserved than isometric equations and Doctor Who? I guess I wanted something new. Cooper, he was something else too. He'd brought me here after all. He'd been honest--for the most part. I still didn't know what he wanted of me, but how would I find out if I scurried home and tried to forget all of this? I was curious, and--I know--curiosity killed the cat; ha, ha, ha, so funny. Well, what if curiosity hadn't killed the cat? What if the cat everyone knew and wrote off had just gone down the proverbial steps, discovered something fantastic, and then returned as someone completely unrecognizable in his joy?

So I went down; I squinted through the magenta light and placed my paw on the knob of the door; I breathed in that wondrous, otherworldly scent; and then I went in...

...to another dark hallway. I thought maybe Cooper had tricked me or something and I got disheartened, but then I heard a chilling, beauteous melody ribboning through the air from the opposite side of the darkness. Then I made out light seeping from a crack at the far side. There was another door. I slipped toward it and the music--classical orchestra--grew more prominent. The scent grew stronger but didn't overwhelm. I opened this door and was blinded by warm, homey light.

"Good afternoon," someone said in a sultry, flowing voice.

I blinked the spots from my eyes, closed the door behind me, and peered to where the voice had come from.

A sharp, dashing leopard stood behind a podium to my right. His black suit was glossy and perfectly pressed, his short hair and fur were astonishingly kempt and gorgeous, and a semblance of tranquil pleasantness drew me to him. Well, that and he was so attractive that it hurt my brain. I was drawn to him like a gay moth to a flamer.

When I padded across the lush carpet to stand before him he smiled and roved his eyes over me. I'm sure he was anything but impressed, but he didn't look disappointed either.

"Do you have an appointment?" he asked, his brows bobbing expectantly and paw held at the ready to scan over the guest list before him.

"Uhm." I shook my head. He sagged in disappointment a little. Then I held up the card Cooper had given me. "I have this though."

The leopard bobbed in surprise at seeing the Salem Rose card, his eyes once again scanning me from top to bottom, and then he took it from me and wrote something on the back of it. He then pulled out a small envelope, placed the card inside, and made a show of licking the adhesive to close the thing. Once that was done he handed it back to me, took my bag and stowed it in checking, and then handed me a Rose from beneath his podium.

"You're all set," he purred. "Just head down the hall into the sitting room and take a seat wherever you wish. Your host will be with you shortly."

A loose cog clicked in my brain. It was an odd sensation, kind of like recalling a distant memory but not fully comprehending what had happened in it or why it was important. I didn't know what was going on, but this place was nice. I never would have expected a place so ritzy to be down a dark alleyway. Sex club or not (which I doubted now) this was beyond chic. I felt like an uptown girl...err...guy.

I began walking where the leopard had instructed, but I stopped and turned back. "Uhm, exactly what is this place?"

His long, spotted tail gave a single twitch. "You don't know?"

I shook my head.

"Charming," he said. "Quite peculiar."

Okay...

He daintily cleared his throat. "Well, since this is your first visit--and quite a proactive visit indeed--let me be the first to welcome you to the Salem Rose Host Club."

That loose cog from before suddenly snapped into place and started turning. A host club?! Here? In Charleston? Wait, why was I surprised by this? Charleston was kind of a ritzy, elegant, and extravagant city. This shouldn't have come as a surprise. We had strip clubs for God's sake, why was a host club such a blow to the face? At least it wasn't a sex club. You just sit with a host and talk, have drinks, flaunt on them and let them woo you. It'd be nice, right?

"And," the leopard continued. "I do hope your evaluation goes well, Mr. Curtis. Our manager and president have high expectations of you."

"Wait, how did you..."

"Know your name?" He smiled coyly. "We have our ways. Who knows, you may leave here tonight with a new name and a new method to passing the time."

I cocked an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

He chuckled and began writing something. "You'll see." He then pointed down the hall with his pen. "Down the hall and take a seat in the sitting room. You don't want to be late."

"But I didn't have an appointment," I said.

He dotted an "I" on his list with a popping tap of his pen. "You do now." He smiled and waved me on. I started walking. "Oh, and Mr. Curtis," he beckoned. I paused and peered over my shoulder at him. He winked, and his fur shone beneath the golden glow of the lights overhead as he bowed slightly. "It will be a pleasure working with you. Hopefully. You'd bring good business as Salem."

Working? Working here? My heart began to pound and a knot rose in my throat. Had Cooper just recruited me to be a host? To...to entertain?

Oh God.

I missed Eden and math.