I hid a smile. "Thanks, but I'm fine. I don't have the time."

"Good," said Joel. "Then hurry up."

Whitney sighed and looked a little embarrassed—but not enough to contradict him. Yasmine had no such qualms and elbowed him in the ribs. "What was that for?" he exclaimed.

"You have no manners," she scolded.

Grinning broadly, I went to the kitchen and found an apple. When I opened the cupboard to look for my granola bars, I found the box empty. "Hey," I said, carrying it out to the living room. "Did somebody eat these? I had two left this morning."

Carter spoke up for the first time. "I was hungry."

I stared at him, incredulous. "You ate both of them?"

"I was hungry," he repeated, not looking contrite in the least.

"Does it ever stop with you?" I exclaimed. "First the Christmas tree, now this? You didn't even throw the box away!"

"I was hoping you'd forgotten about the Christmas tree. That was an accident, and you know it."

I sighed loudly and put the apple in my purse.

"I'm going to the grocery store later," said Vincent helpfully. Aubrey jumped up and settled herself between him and Yasmine. Both their hands instantly moved to pet her. Aubrey gave me a smug cat look at the attention. "I'll pick you up some more if you want."

"Pick him up some more so that he doesn't go rob the food bank next. See you guys later. No wild parties while I'm gone." Carter, Yasmine, and Vincent laughed; Whitney and Joel didn't.

When I'd shut the door behind me, I paused in the hall, wishing there was some way to spy on angels. There wasn't, unfortunately. I couldn't even hide from them. They could mask their signatures from me, but not vice versa. In fact, they all knew I hadn't left yet. Annoyed, I headed downstairs, curiosity burning in me. Why were they all here? Why did they need a human? And what role did the newspapers play?

Figuring out what angels did with their time was always difficult. With my side, it was pretty straightforward. We were always looking to commit souls to Hell and did so in a well-monitored, micro-managed manner. Heaven's forces moved in mysterious ways, though. Carter's purpose in Seattle was a continual puzzle for my friends and me since none of us ever saw any evidence of him doing anything particularly noble, aside from sharing his cigarettes. He did always show a lot of interest in my love life and was quick to dispense cryptic pieces of advice, but I suspected that was more curiosity than altruism.

Work was only a few blocks away. Since it wasn't raining, I simply walked down there. As soon as I entered Emerald City, Maddie approached me, an uncomfortable expression on her face.

"Hey," she said uneasily. "I, um, need your advice. I'm going to a wedding tomorrow and don't know what to wear. This is so stupid…but could you take a look at my options?"

Peering around, I decided the store could function without us for ten minutes, particularly since it had taken Maddie a fair amount of courage to broach this subject. I'd never actually seen her dress up before. "Okay. Let's see what you've got."

We went back to my office, and she tried on three different dresses. No doubt Seth would have been amused to know she was changing clothes while I was in there.

When she'd finished, I gave my honest opinion. "They don't do you justice."

"Which is a nice way of saying they look awful on me." Maddie balled one of the dresses up and tossed it to the floor. "I hate this sort of thing. How can I write about women's issues and not be any good at them?"

"Well…you write about different kinds of issues. The problem here is that you're wearing clothes that are too big for you."

Her dark eyes widened in surprise. "I'm big. They're loose. They hide it."

Maddie wasn't big, not really. She was a size ten or twelve, if I had to guess, and her short height emphasized that a little. But her curves were all proportioned correctly, and she had a very pretty face. Of course, compared to the anorexic models so popular among humans today, I could understand her attitude.

"You are not big. But those dresses make you look it. Something smaller's going to make you look better."

"I can't wear tight clothes."

"They don't have to be tight. They just have to fit."

Maddie sighed and ran her hands down the sides of her thighs. "You don't know what it's like," she said, the slightest accusatory note in her voice. "You're beautiful and tiny. Not all of us have the luxury of looking perfect all the time."

"No one looks perfect all the time," I argued. "I certainly don't." Okay, I kind of did. "You've just got to find the right things. And really, half of beauty is attitude. You feel sexy, then you are sexy."

Maddie looked dubious. "I don't think it's that easy. Guys aren't exactly chomping at the bit to ask me out. You know how long it's been since I was on a date?"

"That goes back to attitude," I said. "Look, I don't mean to sound harsh, but you don't always give off friendly vibes. I mean, you do to me. And to Doug. Sort of. But really, that's it."

"I know I'm not the best with people," she admitted, crossing her arms over her chest. "But I just can't do meaningless small talk."

"Yeah, but you still have to do some talking. It's a fact of life."

"Well, if guys came and actually talked to me, maybe I could try. But they aren't really lining up." She gestured at her body. "Because of this. And now we've come full circle."

"What if I could guarantee you a date?" I asked, suddenly inspired.

Her lips quirked into a smile. It instantly transformed her face. "Are you asking me out?"

"No, but someone else will, I'm certain of it. You just have to let me pick out your outfit."

"I'm not wearing anything slutty."

"It won't be," I promised. I stood up from my chair. "Look, I've gotta run. Wear the yellow dress to the wedding. With a belt. I'll give you details later about the date plan." She left, looking skeptical, and I threw myself into work.

The rest of the day flew by. I never saw Seth in the café and presumed he was working at home today. We had a date later on, so I knew I'd see him then. Since becoming manager, I spent a lot of time holed up in my office, which was hard on the social part of me. But, every once in a while, I got to escape to cover someone's break or arrange a display.

While near the self-help section, a guy carrying some books stumbled near me and dropped the stack. Hoping he hadn't tripped on a bump in the carpet and was planning a lawsuit, I hastily knelt down to help him.

"No, no," he said, cheeks burning. He was the age I looked, late twenties. Early thirties at most. "You don't have to…"

I was already stacking them, though, and quickly understood his discomfort. They were books on all sorts of fetishes—in particular, exhibitionism and voyeurism.

"Oh God," he said, as I handed him the books. "I'm so embarrassed. I feel like such a pervert."

"It's okay," I told him. "It's your business, and we've all got our…ah, preferences."

He looked mildly reassured but still clearly wanted to bolt. There was a wedding ring on his hand, and I expected I was dealing with a fetish he probably didn't share with his wife. Honestly, I was surprised he'd resorted to actual books when he could find a hundred times more sources on the Internet. Most likely he and his wife shared a home computer, and he feared discovery.

It was Georgina the succubus, not Georgina the bookstore manager, who asked the next question. Georgina the bookstore manager would have gotten fired for it if caught.

"You like the watching or the doing?" I kept my voice low.

He swallowed, studied me for mockery, and must have decided I was serious. "The, um, doing."

For half a breath, I considered going for it with him. I needed the energy, badly. He'd be an easy mark, consumed with a secret obsession he couldn't fulfill anywhere else. But, it'd mean doing it in this body, and I didn't like that. This was my preferred, everyday shape. I didn't want to sully it with business.