Taylor woke up with a pounding headache, and an alarm clock that had definitely been ringing for a while. She was hungover, exhausted, and running late to work. She quickly dressed, pulling on whatever she could grab and throwing her hair up into what she hoped was an acceptable messy bun. She grabbed her make up bag, planning to touch up her face on the drive, and reversed out of the driveway at the speed of light.
Ten minutes til opening, she could totally do this.
Driving with her knee, she pulled down the vanity mirror and opened up her makeup bag. "Shit," She cursed, seeing that her face was still tearstained. Had she cried herself to sleep last night? Did exhaustion finally take her, or was she really too drunk to remember? Both situations were plausible, given how little sleep she was running on and how much whiskey she had consumed.
Quickly rubbing in foundation with her hands and whisking on mascara, she thought about David. Part of her wished he was laying out there on the beach, burning up in the summer sun, and the other half…well, prayed that he wasn't. Her emotions were tumultuous and complicated. Maybe she did have feelings for David, and that was what kept pulling her back to him. Or maybe it was the thrill of the chase, the thrill of knowing what he was and still getting to be with him.
As Taylor was putting on her lipstick, still driving with her knee, she caught the flash of red and blue lights in her rearview. Cursing, Taylor tossed her makeup into the passenger seat, hoping he wouldn't say anything about it. Either way, this would definitely make her late to work.
()()()
The officer was younger than she thought he'd be, and the golden tag on his chest read Officer Harlem. He was handsome, too, with rugged features that reminded her of some kind of cowboy. His hair was long, but not unruly, and he pushed away from his face before putting on his hat.
"Good morning, ma'am." He spoke with a drawl that made Taylor quiver. "You were kind of all over the road back there. License and registration?"
His tone was serious, but there was a light lilt in it that let Taylor know she could talk her way out of this one if she was willing to try. Shuffling the makeup out of the way, she pulled out her ID.
"Taylor Emerson, I'm new to town." She smiled at him. "This is my grandfather's car, he lets me use it for work."
"What do you do, Miss Emerson?" He asked, giving the registration a cursory glance, and taking a little longer look at her license. He was checking her birthday, she assumed.
"I work at Sherli's Salon. Licensed cosmetologist." She flashed him a smile. "And, as I'm sure you assumed, I'm running a bit late this morning."
Harlem handed her back her license and the car's registration, tipping back his hat so that he could look at her.
"Here's the thing, Taylor." He flashed her a half-smile. "I'm more than willing to overlook these infractions, on two conditions. You don't make it a habit, and…and you go out with me tonight."
There was a pause where, just for a split second, David crossed Taylor's mind. But she pushed it out of the way, thinking about him with the brunette last night.
"You've got yourself a deal, Officer Harlem."
"Please, call me Jamie."
()()()
Taylor came running into the house immediately after work, a whirl of giggles and shopping bags. Without acknowledging Sam, Michael, and David — who were sitting on the couch, metaphorically holding ice packs to their wounds — she made a beeline for her bedroom. Sam shook his head.
"She's got plans tonight," Michael sighed, sinking lower on the couch. This was the last time he'd pick a fight with one of his brothers, vampire or otherwise. In the middle of their brawl, Sam had entered into the cavern and threatened to stake them both if they didn't cut this out. David hadn't wanted to back down, at first, but eventually they had tired each other out.
From the kitchen, the phone rang.
"Boys!" Lucy called from the second level. "Can one of you get that? Max and I are…busy."
Michael and Sam collectively shuddered, and Taylor yelled down also.
"Please!" She hollered. "It might be for me."
Without missing a beat, David rose from the couch and moved towards the phone.
"Hello?" He sighed dramatically into the receiver.
"Hi, is Taylor there?" The voice on the other end of the line was distinctly male, and, with their sensitive hearing, Sam and Michael caught onto it as well. David gripped the receiver tighter.
"No," David said, then sighed, thinking better of it. "Can I take a message?"
"Tell her there's been a change of plans, I'm running half an hour late."
"Do you have a name?" He asked through gritted teeth.
"Just tell her I'll be late," The man on the other end of the line smiled. "She'll know who I am."