Simply Irresistible by Kristine Grayson Page A

Now it felt as if her eyes had shrunken and her thought processes were slowed, but the pain was receding.
    “It seems to me that the store was in Beaverville,” Clotho said.
    “Beaverton, “Vivian mumbled.
    “In a strip joint,” Lachesis said.
    “A strip mall?” Vivian asked.
    “Near Kinky’s,” Atropos said.
    “I hope that’s Kinko’s,” Vivian said.
    “And George Washington Square,” Clotho said.
    “Washington Square Mall,” Vivian murmured, then sat up. “I know where that is. I’ve even seen the store.”
    “You know?” Lachesis said.
    “Yes, but a pet store won’t be open at this time of day.”
    “It just might,” Atropos said. “Henri always worked early, even in the days when he was—”
    “Shush,” Clotho said.
    Atropos closed her mouth and looked humble.
    Vivian stood. “Let’s go. I think I feel well enough to drive.”
    All she knew was that she wasn’t going to let any of these women—whoever they really were— behind the wheel of her precious VW Bug.
    “We can’t leave, dear,” Lachesis said.
    “What?” Vivian asked.
    “You’ll have to go alone,” Atropos said.
    “And leave you in my apartment?” Vivian didn’t have a lot to steal, but she still had a few precious things. She had no idea what these women would do if she left them alone with her stuff.
    “The effort of keeping this place hidden is already paining you,” Clotho said.
    “You won’t have enough strength to hide the transportation, and then another building or two,” Lachesis said.
    “Why don’t we just call this guy?” Vivian said. “Give me the phone book.”
    “Wait,” Atropos said. “Doesn’t this phone device send information through the air?”
    If these women were actresses, they were dang good. Aunt Eugenia at least knew how phones worked. And all sorts of other technology. Why would the Fates not know? Had they been kept in a bubble?
    “I mean,” Clotho said, even though Atropos had spoken originally, “can’t other people overhear what’s being said?”
    “Sometimes,” Vivian said, “when you’re on a portable or a cell, and someone’s determined to listen in.”
    “Or if you’re bugged,” Lachesis said.
    “I’m not bugged,” Vivian said, “but I do have a portable phone.”
    “No,” Atropos said.
    “Yes, I do,” Vivian said.
    “What I mean”—Clotho was speaking for someone else again, a habit that was driving Vivian nuts—“is that you can’t use the phone.”
    “Why not?”
    “Because someone will listen in,” Lachesis said.
    “Who?” Vivian asked.
    “It’s so complicated,” Atropos said.
    “Well, not really,” Clotho said.
    “You see,” Lachesis said, “it could be anyone. There are so many who are angry with us, and—”
    “Oh, never mind,” Vivian said. She needed an escape from these women anyway. If they robbed her blind, then she could say they broke in while she was gone, and she wasn’t certain if she left her apartment unlocked or not, Officer.
    She shook her head. “I’m going to this store. What do you want me to do if they’ve heard of this Henri guy?”
    “Henri Barou,” Atropos said.
    “Tell him what’s happening,” Clotho said.
    “He’ll believe me?” Vivian asked, wondering if this Henri person might have her committed instead.
    “He’ll know how to help us,” Lachesis said.
    “What if he’s never heard of you?” Vivian asked.
    “He’s heard of us,” Atropos said.
    “He doesn’t like us much, but he has heard of us,” Clotho said, over explaining again.
    “He doesn’t like you either,” Vivian said. “Then how do you know you can trust him?”
    “Because,” Lachesis said, “if you can’t trust Henri Barou—”
    “—you can’t trust anyone,” Atropos and Clotho finished, then laughed.
    “I don’t see why that’s funny,” Vivian said. “I thought you were in trouble.”
    Lachesis put her hand on Vivian’s. “We are in trouble, my dear.”
    “And,” Atropos said, also putting her