How to Discipline Your Vampire(21)

            I protested. “I thought you liked jazz. Gus, you asked me to have this trio back after the last performance.”

            “That’s because the redhead playing the upright bass had perky tits.”

            I rolled my eyes and snickered. “Well, some of the residents like jazz. If you gentlemen would like to enjoy some music—or perky tits—I’ll be down the hall.”

            I turned and began to walk, and on cue, I heard some chairs being dragged and some old men grunting as they rose from their seats.

            “That’s more like it,” I said, slowing my pace so we could walk down the hall together.

            “Billy-boy, my granddaughter’s coming in next week. You still single?” Hank asked, wiggling his eyebrows at me.

            “I think it’s time to give up on our Billy,” Jack joked. “He keeps promising to bring in a nice girl once he meets one, and yet every time we ask him, he’s on a date with a new catch.”

            I held my hands up in protest, “Guys, guys—”

            “You don’t want your granddaughter with a playboy.”

            “I’m not a—”

            Gus slapped his hand on my shoulder and lectured. “Down, boys. Our Billy here just hasn’t met the right girl. He’ll settle down once he meets the one.”

            “Why would he want to settle down when he could have every cute coed in the Seacoast Region?”

            I had to keep the hounds at bay, so I threw them a bone. “I had a date today with a new girl I just met. Not only is she beautiful,” I teased as they leaned in, “but she’s a Leo.”

            The boys laughed and taunted. “You and your zodiac, Gentry.”

            “That means she’s spunky. I like the spunky girls,” Hank remarked.

            I held up my hand and listed the many attractive qualities of a Leo. “They’re charismatic, driven, and loyal.”

            “Like I said, spunky.”

            As we entered the room, I heard a faint murmur from my compatriots about the redhead’s bustline and we made our way to some empty seats. The band had begun to play just moments before our arrival.

            “Ah, Billy, you made it!” Addie creaked, flagging me down. “Sit with us girls—we need something to look at.”

            “I’m nearly blind, but he smells good, so that’s fine by me,” Beatrice chimed in, adjusting her thick glasses.

            “The boys are being a bit uncouth,” I confessed, “maybe I should sit with a more civilized bunch.”

            “Bah,” Addie spat, “they were talking about breasts throughout the entire concert last time. Maybe since you’re here they’ll take it down a notch.”

            “I don’t know about that,” I admitted, and tuned in to the show.

            They are pretty good, I noted, tapping my foot in time. Part of what made jazz great was the improvisation of it all, and watching a band that had synergy helped. It was hard to improvise if you didn’t know what your partners had in mind. But this trio, they did it right.

            Improvisation was something I’d have to become good at.

            And for the millionth time in the last few days, my thoughts drifted to Cerise.

            While I wasn’t surprised that she turned down the offer to come and listen to the show with me, I was still disappointed. I imagined what it would be like to have her by my side, taking her into my senses while she listened to music. Especially after that scene.