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I looked more closely at her, trying to see whether the blonde hair and blue eyes were familiar. Nothing about her was original, though, nothing that sparked a memory.

“Did we go to high school together or something?” I asked her, draining my drink.

“Another?” Gerald offered.

“I know my way, I’ve got it.” I waved him off, making my way to the bar.

“No, I went to school in Salt Hill. I moved back to the area about two years ago,” Angela explained to my back, like I gave a shit. I’d already forgotten that I’d asked her a question.

I poured a generous amount of whiskey in my glass, resisting the urge to fill it to the top. I took a large swallow before I turned. It was one thing to have dinner with Colton and his family, quite another to have it with Colton, his family, and his fucking fiancée. I was here to kill werewolves, which I would’ve preferred doing right then.

“And now you’re marrying this one.” I gestured to Colton with my glass, flashing a fake smile as my eyes ran over the two of them. Colton, in his jeans and dress shirt, hair perfectly mussed, strong, angled jaw. Her petite, blonde, shiny. Like Barbie and Ken. “And if I can say so myself, you two are as pretty as a picture.”

Colton grimaced, knowing I was being sarcastic, but Angela was either too dense or deluded to catch it.

She squeezed his arm and laid her head on his shoulder. “Our families have known each other forever. The Goddards were the founding fathers of Salt Hill.” She declared it proudly, like stealing the land and deeming themselves “founders” was something to be celebrated.

“History of small Connecticut towns isn’t a specialty of mine.” I smiled at her, with teeth. “I prefer witch burnings and ghost stories.”

She tilted her head, not quite sure what to make of me. But I knew she didn’t like me.

“Ignore her,” Colton muttered tightly. “She’s just teasing.” He gave me a harsh look. “Haddie.”

The nickname he apparently couldn’t let go of set off warning signs of a history between us that I was sure Angela already knew about.

Angela laughed uncomfortably, her eyes narrowing at me. She’d established me as an enemy, it seemed. Little did she know, she didn’t matter enough to me to be an enemy. She was little more than a gnat in Laura Ashley.

“I’m a lawyer,” she answered a question no one asked. “I’m working for my dad’s practice. That’s what brought me back to town. Taking over the family business.” She said it as if nepotism were something to applaud. “What about you, Hadley? What brought you back, and what do you do?”

She had a glint to her eye that I often saw in mean girls. She definitely already knew what I did. It filled me with delight, knowing her and Sarah had wasted time talking about me. A welcome respite to complaining about the lack of Whole Foods nearby, a bad facial, or whatever women like them had to complain about.

“I’m in extermination.” I took another long drink. “And I’m just here to tie up loose ends. Working a job.”

She pursed her lips. “I didn’t realize it was a traveling profession.”

I shrugged my shoulders. “Mine is. You’ll find there are pests all over this damn town, needing to be dealt with.” I smiled saccharinely.

Gerald let out a laugh he covered with a cough.

“Extermination,” Colton hummed from beside his fiancée.

“I told you about that.” I focused on him. “Right after you told me about the lovely Abigail here.”

“Angela,” she corrected me through a strained smile.

“Right.” I tapped my head. “All the poison I use. It probably breaks through the blood-brain barrier. Makes me forget things. Like your name. And your existence.”

Gerald let out another laugh. It was less well-disguised this time.

“Dinner is ready!” Sharon announced, waltzing back into the room.

“Thank fuck.” My words left me on a heavy exhale.

Everyone looked at me. I guessed I’d said it louder than I’d intended.

“I’m starving,” I said honestly. “Not eager to get out of this conversation.” I looked at Angela. “You’re a delight. I can’t wait to hear more about…” For the life of me, I couldn’t remember what she did for a living.

Quit while I’m ahead, I decided. “Dinner,” I clapped my hands together, turning to Sharon. “I know the way.” I walked out without waiting for an escort, though I felt vaguely as if I were walking toward a firing squad.