And as I scanned the room, one guy in particular caught my attention. The face was all wrong, but he had hair almost the same color as Seth’s. It was worn messy too, though it appeared as though he’d achieved that look with gel, rather than the lack of brushing Seth employed. No, this guy wasn’t a perfect match by any means, but he was close, and there was an aura of shy vulnerability about him that I liked.

Putting on a smile, I strolled across the room to introduce myself. I might not be able to actually punish Seth, but at least for tonight, I could pretend that I could.

Chapter 4

“Can I call you?”

The Sorta-Seth-Lookalike lay naked in bed, still worn out even though he’d come hours ago. I stood near the door, fully dressed, slipping on my shoes. It turned out he was actually here on business from Seattle, and he’d been ecstatic to learn we lived in the same city.

“Mmm.” I pursed my lips as though I were giving this a lot of thought. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

“Really?” His brief, happy look faded. He’d turned out to be as vulnerable and shy as I thought. I was only the second woman he’d ever slept with. “But I felt like . . . well, I felt like we really connected.”

I fixed him with a cold look. That smothering rage from last night no longer consumed me, but I was still angry at the world and needed to lash out at anyone I could. “Our bodies connected. That’s about it. The truth is, I already have a boyfriend.”

His eyes widened. I realized then I should have mentioned having a boyfriend before we had sex. It would have doubled his guilt and given me a stronger fix. Still, the agony he now felt over sleeping with someone else’s girlfriend was undoubtedly blackening his soul even as we spoke.

“R-really?”

“Yup. Sorry. This was just a way to pass the time. And honestly, baby? You want some feedback? You’ve still got a lot to learn. It really wasn’t that great.”

I left before I could see the full effect of my words. It would hurt, I had no doubt about that. Devastating him didn’t really make me feel better, but it had frozen me up enough so that I didn’t have to process any real emotions. I was numb, which was about the best I could hope for.

Kristin was waiting for me at a coffee shop down the street so that she could drive me over to the cult leader’s house. Her mousy brown hair was pulled up into a neat French twist, and her crisp suit reminded me of something Grace or Mei might wear, save that this was navy as opposed to their usual black or—on daring days—red. She drank what looked like a cappuccino and picked over the remains of a bagel, her eyes lost in thought as she no doubt pondered the coming day’s wheeling and dealing.