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that I was still put off by that exhausting experience. Readings really take it out of me.
    “Just a few a month,” he coaxed. I used to command two hundred dollars a session. It was really good money, and it’d allowed me to put a sizable chunk down on the condo when I’d bought it. “And just until we go back to work for
Ghoul Getters
,” Gilley added.
    I made a face at him, but I realized I was still clutching the dress to my chest. I reeeeeeally wanted to wear it, and I’m no longer that girl that tucks the tag in and takes a dress back after only wearing it once. If I wore the dress, I was keeping it. “How many readings a month?” I asked Gilley.
    He smiled. “No more than twenty.”
    I did some more mental calculating. That would be really good money. And it would save Heath and me from having to be so careful about our budget. While I wavered, Gilley added, “I’ve already got a few booked for Heath.”
    I blinked. “Heath is doing readings?”
    Gil nodded. “He didn’t want me to tell you because he wants to buy you something nice for your birthday, and he said that living in Boston for the summer is crazy expensive and he doesn’t want you to worry about trying to survive on a tight budget all the time.”
    I lifted my chin to look out into the hall. I could hear the news broadcast on the TV and I knew Heath was out there lounging on the sofa, waiting for me to figure out my wardrobe for the evening. “He’s a good man, isn’t he?” I whispered to Gil.
    “He’s one of the best, honey,” Gil replied, handing me the shoe box. “Now, get dressed and do something with your hair. You have half an hour.”
    The shoes Gil had picked out were black patent leather at the heel with electric blue suede at the toe to match the dress. I got myself together quickly and was relieved to see the dress fit like a glove. And, as long as I didn’t breathe too deeply, it was even comfortable.
    As for my hair . . . I tried. I tried the curling iron a couple of times and gobs of hair spray, but I have thick chestnut-colored hair that always manages to pull out of the curl. Still, I did manage to at least make it look wavy, and I was happy with the end result.
    I walked out of the bedroom after hastily putting most of the clothes on my bed back in the closet, and as both Gilley and Heath jumped to their feet and whistled appreciatively, I think I passed the litmus test.
    We arrived at the restaurant, which is just a few blocks down from my place, at only a minute or two past seven. Heath held my hand and I knew he could sense how tense I was—my palm was clearly sweating. He squeezed it and offered me an encouraging smile and I had to marvel at how handsome he was in his black dress slacks and emerald green silk shirt.
    On my left Gilley was also smartly dressed in black jeans, matching boots, a charcoal shirt, and snappy vest. On his head he’d even worn his most stylish fedora. He looked like a guy that didn’t have to try very hard to look trendy, and I knew that was partly Michel’s influence and partly just Gilley’s natural taste. It made me feel a little more confident to be buffered by the two men . . . that is, until Steven walked in with a beautiful brunette on his arm.
    My ex was dressed in a light tan suede jacket and a white shirt with faded jeans, but his fiancée had on a simple black cocktail dress, which complemented her olive skin tone and set off her hazel eyes.
    She had a countenance that wasn’t classically beautiful, but lovely all the same, with large doe eyes, a long thin nose, and full lips encased in a heart-shaped face haloed by long curly hair that bounced when she walked. Mostly, she looked kind and approachable, and the minute I saw her and Steven together, I knew they were made for each other. Courtney was tall and lithe, a perfect complement to Steven’s six-foot frame.
    We had little chance to do more than smile nervously at each other when the host, Estevan, approached