She peeled off her rubber gloves. “Why’s he such a closet case?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know. It’s complicated. His whole clan—”

“His whole clan?”

“Yeah,” I said. “The whole Fairfax clan. I think they’re pretty secretive by nature, but they’ve got reasons for it.”

“It does explain a lot about them,” Jen said in a thoughtful tone.

“I know, right?” I stuck the toilet brush back into its container. “Look, that’s why I didn’t want to talk about Cody. I didn’t trust myself not to tell you, and it wasn’t my secret to tell.”

“You didn’t trust me to keep it?”

I spread my hands. “I’m trusting you now, aren’t I?”

She made a face. “Now, yeah.”

“I know, I know,” I said. “And for the thousandth time, I’m sorry. I’ve got a lot going on, okay? I didn’t expect all this to come up. I didn’t expect the Vanderhei kid to drown. I didn’t expect to be working so closely with Cody.” My tail lashed with pent-up agitation, and I felt pressure rising in the air around me. “And that whole ‘it’s not you; it’s me’ thing? It’s true. He meant it. Turns out werewolves only mate with their own kind, so if it’s any consolation, I’m no more eligible than you are. And there’s this guy I just met, this other guy, Stefan—actually, he’s a ghoul, but before you—”

“Daise,” Jen interrupted me. “You’re babbling.” She glanced uneasily about her. “Calm down before you burst a pipe.”

Taking a deep breath, I envisioned myself pouring out a glass filled with my roiling emotions. “Okay, okay. So this ghoul, Stefan—”

Downstairs, the front door opened. “Yoo-hoo!” a bright, cheery woman’s voice called, accompanied by the sounds of a family returning from a day at the beach. “Hello! Are we just about finished here?”

“On my way out, Mrs. Kleinholtz!” Jen called back downstairs to her. “Sorry—just running a little late!”

I helped Jen scramble to pack her cleaning supplies into a plastic carryall, then followed her downstairs, where the highly manicured and impeccably tanned Mrs. Kleinholtz blinked in perplexity at my choice of attire—I was still wearing the linen sheath dress I’d put on this morning—but insisted on tipping me alongside Jen nonetheless, pressing a ten-dollar bill into my hand.

Outside, Jen cocked her head at me, her expression soft and open for the first time since we’d fought. “Look, I’ve got to go home and shower. Do you want to meet at the Shoals in an hour and get a drink? Talk?”

I did. I so did.