She got dressed as quickly as she could, but pulling clothes on over damp skin wasn’t easy. Because of that, she’d just worn terry-cloth track pants and a jacket here. They were easiest to throw on over her wet one-piece.
At least he’d just been a tourist. Some overeager fitness maniac who had to get a run in at the crack of dawn. And then decided to save a drowning woman.
Drowning.
As if.
She snorted and rolled her eyes at the same time, almost making herself fall over. She wasn’t the most graceful thing on land right after she’d been in her mer-form for a bit. It took a minute to get her land legs back, as it were.
She squeezed the water out of her hair, twisted it up and clipped it into place, then fished her keys out of her jacket pocket and headed for her truck.
There was only one explanation she could think of for how she’d ended up at the surface and close enough to be spotted from shore.
The new current in the lake. It had floated her to the top and right into that tourist’s line of sight.
That rather attractive tourist. But that was beside the point. Like really beside the point.
The most unthinkable part of the whole thing was that he’d kissed her. Sort of. Was it really a kiss if it was actually CPR?
It was still his lips on hers. Did that qualify? He seemed human, though, and that could be a problem. At least he’d be gone soon enough. That was the best part about tourists. They were temporary. And any effects he might feel would be gone in forty-eight hours.
So long as…there wasn’t any further contact. Or something like that. Honestly, if it was CPR, it shouldn’t even count. She really ought to know, but it had been so long, and it wasn’t like she had a handbook she could flip through and find the answers.
She also wasn’t about to call her parents. She rolled her eyes. That would not go well. They already weren’t thrilled with her living in this town amongst so many uprights.
The only saving grace in her parents’ eyes was that Nocturne Falls had a good number of supernaturals.
This was crazy. Why was she thinking about her parents? Enough was enough.
It wasn’t a kiss. That very mistaken and equally handsome tourist had just been trying to save her. That was it.
End of story. She was never going to see him again anyway.
She tried to shake it off. This was not the morning she’d intended on having, obviously, but she could not let it throw her. Today was a big day. She had a major client to impress. She needed to be on her game.
She nodded as she unlocked her truck and opened the door. “That’s what I need to think about. The job. Not whatever happened in the lake. That was nothing. The job is all that matters.”
She got behind the wheel. “And now I’m talking to myself. Perfect.”
She spent the ride home focusing on a safe topic. What to wear. Simple was probably best. Khaki pants and a Tanks A Lot polo shirt. That would be easy and professional.
But this was a big job. Would they expect her to dress up?
She hoped not. Her closet basically had two modes. Work. Or party time at Insomnia, the nightclub in town for supernaturals. It was one of her favorite spots to hang with her girlfriends on the weekend. She tended to let her wild, mermaid side out to play on those occasions.
But showing up in a slinky green sequin slip dress and gold platform heels wasn’t going to cut it with a client.
Khaki pants and work shirt it was.
As soon as she got home, she went straight for the shower. She’d set her coffee to brew when she’d walked out the door for the lake, so there was a full, hot pot waiting for her in the kitchen when her shower was done.
Even so, she lingered under the water. Happily, the urge to shift was gone. She’d be good for a bit now, although there was no telling how long she’d be good for. The need to shift wasn’t a regularly scheduled thing like the wolves with their full moon.
For merfolk, these things had more to do with emotions. They were creatures of the water, after all, subject to the ever-changing tides. And emotions weren’t really that much different.
A couple of great, smooth, stress-free weeks and Undrea might not have to shift at all. Unless she wanted to, of course. A week where everything went wrong, and she’d find herself chin-deep in her tub with her tail flopped over the end before that week was up.
She just had to listen to her legs. They were her barometer.
She wrapped her hair in a towel, her body in a robe, and went out to the kitchen. Breakfast was two strawberry Pop-Tarts spread with peanut butter, a tin of sardines on the side, and a large coffee with hazelnut creamer and three sugars.
Merfolk had admittedly weird palates and exceptionally high metabolisms. After that swim, she needed to refuel in a big way. There was a good chance she’d have a granola bar in the truck, too. And for lunch, she’d be at Howler’s Bar and Grill. Ordering whatever was on special, usually, because Bridget didn’t skimp on the serving sizes.
Although Undrea sometimes added a side of anchovies. Amazing what they did to the flavor of a cheesesteak. Or a chef salad. Or meatloaf. She knew they weren’t most people’s go-to add-on, but those people were mostly uprights.
Undrea turned on the television and ate while she watched a little morning news show. Not much of interest but she figured she’d better know what was going on in the world in case the client made small talk.
Undrea didn’t want to appear uninformed, despite the fact that she stayed off of social media altogether.
After the meeting, she’d head to her office, which was attached to the warehouse where her team built all the custom tanks. And this was definitely going to be a custom job. She really hoped she got it.
Work was good, and the tank maintenance contracts kept the lights on, but a big job like this might mean bonuses for her team. Which would be awesome. They worked hard, and they deserved to share in the rewards.
From the brief the client had given her over the phone, Undrea couldn’t imagine how this job couldn’t be big. The woman had talked about a dividing wall aquarium between the living room and the dining room.
An entire wall.
That was going to take some serious construction know-how. She had Aaron Rigby for that. He was a former Navy SEAL who’d gotten his degree in engineering and would make sure the tank build was sound, but what about the house itself? She might have to hire someone to confirm whether or not the floor could take that much weight.
If it couldn’t, maybe she could talk the client into something smaller but still showy. A lot of these big jobs really were about managing expectations. People wanted big, impressive tanks, but rarely did they understand how much other equipment that took. Equipment that wasn’t meant to be seen but was still very necessary to keep the fish healthy and alive. Undrea wasn’t going to cut corners when it came to that.
This was her business and her reputation. There was only one way to do a job. The right way. Dead fish and murky water made no one happy.
That didn’t mean she had any intention of missing out on this job. It just meant she was going to have to go about securing it the right way.
Which usually meant helping the client see that their vision might not be the best thing for the space.
Wouldn’t be the first time.
She finished getting ready by drying her hair into its natural waves, then added a little makeup and jewelry and slip-on sneakers. In case the client was weird about people wearing shoes into the house, those were easy to get off and still cute.