Misfortune Cookie by Casey Wyatt

white, not black.
    Oh man. I groaned at the memory of me waking up, my stomach in turmoil.
    “I barfed on you, didn’t I?” I wouldn’t have complained if the earth opened and swallowed me then and there.
    “Not exactly. But you gave the staff something to do.” Luca’s smile warmed me in other places. Without thinking, I ran my fingers down his stubbled cheek. Suddenly, I was feeling much better.
    He leaned into my touch, eyes closed. “Don’t stop,” he murmured.
    There was a soft knock at the door.
    Luca swore, then barked, “What?”
    Meadows poked his head in. “Sorry to disturb you sir, but there is a guest here to see Ms. Ashworth and you.”
    “Who’s here?” I had to ask, it was my house after all.
    “Ms. Joanna Evans.”
    “We’ll be down when we’re ready,” I groused. “Her timing sucks.” I wondered if I could beg off the visit on account of my head. She didn’t know I was fully healed.
    Luca gave me a lingering look then stood and faced Meadows. “Please ask Ms. Evans to join us for dinner.”
    Or not. So much for sick time.
    “We cannot refuse,” Luca said. He rubbed his hand across the back of his neck. “I don’t like it any better than you do.”
    Duty called. No rest for the wicked and all that crap. “I need to bathe.”
    “Let me help you.” He slung my arm around his neck and helped steady me on my feet. Once he was sure, I wouldn’t collapse in the shower, he returned to his room to change. He didn’t need to tell me that it was probably a good idea not to meet the boss looking like holy Hell.
    I tried not to panic at the volume of blood pouring down the drain from my hair. Or at the white flecks that I feared were bits of skull. Insane laughter bubbled from my chest. It was all so damn crazy. Sebastian, you shit. Giddiness morphed into anger and I banged the shower tiles with my fist. Clearly, I needed to work through the stages of grief. To properly mourn my lost future.
    “Radiance? You okay in there?” Luca’s voice boomed into the bathroom.
    Cranking off the faucet, I toweled dry and threw on clean clothes. I styled my hair as best I could by gathering it into a loose ponytail, and trying not to think about the head injury thing.
    “Wait! Where is my coat?” After Luca extracted it from the heap of dirty clothes on my closet floor, I rummaged the pockets. “I found this under the couch. I’ve never seen a fortune cookie with red paper.” I moved to tear it open.
    “Stop.” Luca stayed my hands and peered at it. He plucked the cookie from my fingers and placed it in his jacket pocket. “We can look at it later. When we’re alone again.”
    My heart did a pitter-patter at the erotic promise in his voice. Maybe it was the blow to the head. For the first time, I wasn’t nervous about my attraction to him. There was a rightness that I couldn’t put my finger on.
    Luca offered me his arm. “Shall we?”
    Right. No time for witty banter or gooey self-reflection. The boss had been waiting for close to a half an hour.
    Joanna was as sour as ever, fingers drumming the dining table, broadcasting her displeasure loud and clear.
    “Pardon the delay. We’ve only just returned from a run,” Luca said, giving my hand a conspiratorial squeeze.
    I gritted my teeth and forced a smile, keeping my mouth shut. As soon as we were seated at the table, dinner was served by wait staff that seemed to materialize out of nowhere. That was a disturbing thought. Knowing Sebastian, I wouldn’t be surprised if he hired otherworldly help.
    “I know. That’s why I’m here. I’m relieving you from soul capture duty. You’re on a new case effective immediately.”
    Luca stared at her, waiting. She returned his glare with one of her own. He narrowed his eyes, anger flitted across his face, then it disappeared, replaced by a calm mask.
    Oh my God. I pressed my hand against my chest. I had to be the slowest person in the room. “The murder in the penthouse. It’s related to all