The hated cop was cooking dinner with Kanesha when I got back from the shoot. “I had another model pitying me.”

Mike raised an eyebrow.

“Apparently living with a cop at my age would have cramped her style.” I grinned. “I smell pasta.”

“You,” Kanesha informed me, “Can toss salad.”

I moved to comply instantly. Powerful future goddesses can always be routed by girlfriends.

“Hrm. Makes me wonder how much alcohol she consumes.”

I grinned. “I figured that was it. Then again, there are dumber things than underage drinking.”

“And less dumb things. I’d rather catch you guys with pot.”

I wondered if pot would work on me. “Yeah. I guess people who are stoned aren’t as likely to do profoundly stupid stuff.”

“Exactly. Although it’s still not good if you aren’t an adult.” Mike shrugged. “Do I cramp your style?”

I decided not to answer that question. I tossed salad.
Right as we were starting to clear up the table, my cell phone rang. “Excuse me.”

It was Clara. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

“They set a court date, but apparently she disappeared.”

“I scared her a bit,” I admitted. “Well, if she doesn’t show up they can add contempt and stuff, right?”

“And keep her bail, which will surely please whoever put it up,” Mike noted. “Let me guess, the high priestess of sex vanished?”

I nodded. “Yeah, she did. Clara…be careful.”

“I already cursed the ones that tried something with me with acne and bed bugs respectively. They’ll regret teaching me those spells.”

I laughed, then had to explain what was so funny to Mike.

“Bed bugs, eh? That’s a nasty one.”

“How about we meet up for lunch tomorrow,” I suggested to Clara. “And talk about it properly.”
Tomorrow was Sunday. “I’ll check with my dad and call you back.”

She hung up. I glanced at Mike. “Bed bugs. Remind me never to piss her off.”