Chapter 4: Chapter 3

Jovi was going to Il Milano Ristorante, a five-star Italian restaurant in New York City.

Jovi laid on her bed and browsed her phone. An online search revealed pictures of the establishment’s fancy insides. A picture of the menu displayed outrageously expensive prices.

Jovi took a deep breath and smothered her face into the pillow. Warm air from her nostrils was trapped between her skin and the fabric. She slid her arms under the pillow and pressed it closer, forbidding more air from coming out.

Kr-chnk!

“Hi,” Sam’s voice came from the door.

Jovi threw herself up into a sitting position. “Hey.”

“Sorry about lunch today. I want to make it up to you. How about dinner tonight?”

“I’m sorry, I have plans tonight.”

“Oh, it’s fine. We can plan something for tomorrow, ”Sam said, setting her bag on her desk and opening her laptop.

Jovi got off her bed. She opened her closet, right across from Sam’s desk, and moved each clothing hanger from one side to the other. She stopped at the two dresses she brought from home. The old short dress was burgundy with puffy long sleeves and a low cut top. The other dress was much longer and a rich purple with ivory lace. The only dresses Jovi had were winter dresses. It was in the low eighties this time of year.

“Ooooh,” Sam cooed, “you’re going out with a guy!”

“Yeah, I am,” Jovi said. “We’re going to Il Milano.”

“Good choice. How long have you been dating?”

“This is our first date,” Jovi swallowed.

“No way,” Sam said, twirling around. “He must have deep pockets. Can I help you pick out what you’re going to wear?”

Jovi twitched. Her wardrobe selection was nothing compared to what Sam probably had. “I thought it was going to be colder, so I only brought these dresses.”

“You can borrow one of mine,” Sam smiled. “You’ll easily fit into my clothes.”

Jovi didn’t really have a choice. She’d look silly if she wore one of her dresses. “Yeah, that’d be great.”

Sam opened the top of her wardrobe. There was hardly enough room to browse her selection of clothes because of how packed they were. Under the clothes hangers were two racks of shoes, mostly heels.

“Hmm. Hold on,” Sam said.

Sam opened up the bottom two drawers, one with undergarments, the other with pajamas. She went to her bed and got on her knees to pull out a box.

You can still turn around, a cutesy voice echoed in Jovi’s head. Her nose wrinkled. Jovi’s inner voice didn’t sound like that.

“Bingo.”

The box was packed to the brim with folded formal clothes. Sam pulled out a few dresses and laid them out on the bed. The first dress was cream with orange lace, a slim bodice, and a relaxed skirt with a slit. The second dress was white with embroidered blue flowers, off-the-shoulder, and had a flared skirt. The last dress was green, form fitting, and ruffly on the bottom.

“These don’t wrinkle, so they’re all ready to go,” Sam said.

Each dress looked too showy. They were each short and low-cut. He’d probably like that, Jovi thought, the idea pinching her gut. At least they were in season. The best option seemed to be the second one: the flared blue floral dress.

“I’m going to try the middle one on,” Jovi said, taking her shirt off.

“I’d pick that for you, too! It goes really well with your hair color,” Sam said. “You’ll need shoes too, right? What size are you?”

“Six and a half.”

Jovi quickly threw her clothes off while Sam was busy in her wardrobe. The smooth silk glided over Jovi’s skin. The fabric had integrity, lacking any grit and having so much resistance. Jovi felt too powerful.

You’re worth so much more, the cutesy voice said in Jovi’s head again. Her inner voice didn’t sound like that. Maybe she should ask Sam if she heard that voice – no, the voice was surely in Jovi’s head, but she didn’t know how it got there.

“Here,” Sam said, handing Jovi a pair of bright blue heels. “Wow! You look so great!”

“You think?” Jovi said. The dress fell above Jovi’s mid thigh, despite her being shorter than Sam. Jovi never practiced sitting in a short dress before because she never picked short dresses. “It’s a little short.”

“Your date is treating you to a five-star riverside Italian restaurant. Why not show him a little leg?”

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Jovi fumbled with the heel’s straps. She didn’t want to show off her legs. She wouldn’t wear this dress if she were out with her family. Plus, Demon fairies probably wanted more than a dinner date. Jovi wasn’t willing to give Vincent any ideas.

“I don’t know,” Jovi said, “I don’t feel comfortable showing this much skin.”

“I still can’t have you wearing winter dresses in the summer.” Sam smiled. She dug through her clothes box again and pulled out a peach dress. “Try it on. I’ll get you another pair of heels.”

Jovi tried the dress on. It had a sweetheart corset, thin straps, and a skirt with a slit. The dress was much longer, although the slit in the skirt ran high up her thigh and her chest didn’t fill the top. At least she’d be able to sit down without the worry of flashing someone.

“This is good,” Jovi said.

---

Vincent relished in the riverside breeze, only a few steps away from the Il Milano Ristorante. The city skyline would be lit in about an hour. He’d ensure that Jovi would see it.

Jovi’s soul may cost Vincent a little bit of effort. Normally, he’d dedicate his time in the temporal world to harvesting as many souls as possible. The demons back in Hell envied him for his intrinsic ability to close contracts with humans. Vincent loved how many riots the demons threw in his name, but he wanted a ‘vacation.’

“Hey,” Iris said, floating towards Vincent. She had morphed from her human form back into her normal form. “Am I off now?”

“I can handle the rest,” Vincent said. “You’re free to go.”

“I still need to meet my quota by the end of the year.”

The Devil relied on souls to prolong the rebellion against Father. If demons don’t sign enough soul-binding contracts, they are sent to Hell’s torture chambers for a period of time. Vincent promised to help Iris, a lesser demon, form contracts as long as she helped him.

“I haven’t forgotten,” Vincent said. “I’m working on it.”

For Vincent, earning Jovi’s soul was risky. First of all, the contract was not soul-binding, so Vincent wouldn’t earn Jovi’s soul after her death no matter what. Plus, Vincent would have to spend a lot of time persuading her to do terrible things. But Vincent was a greater demon. He was the Devil’s best. He’d easily manage.

Iris scowled. Vincent turned. Atop Il Milano’s Ristorante sat Jovi’s guardian angel, Ambrose, his white suit jacket glistening.

“You’re too close to me, angel,” Iris said. “You’re clogging up my nose.”

“Ambrose, so pleasant to see you!” Vincent waved. “I take it that Jovi’s not too far from here. Care to join us for a glass of wine?”

Ambrose remained in his spot.

“I’m sure Father would understand if you partook in some of his creation. Isn’t it admirable?”

Not a budge.

“Oh, come on, you and every single angel has never taken time out of their duties to talk to me. Take a break! You deserve one.”

“What good is it to give attention to a demon who never sought good in the first place?”

“Good is subjective.”

Ambrose snickered.

Vincent frowned. Of course Ambrose would show emotion at that line, that arrogant kiss-up! Although, Vincent thought, I can work with that pride of his. Hell, Vincent was made of pride.

“Ambrose, Ambrose, Ambrose!” a scratchy little voice said. A lesser angel fairy soared to Ambrose’s side, grasping onto his bedazzled weapon. “I couldn’t get Miss Jovi to turn back! I tried to give her some confidence –”

“You!” Iris said, jutting forward. “You have been so annoying to me today! The next time I see you trying to sweet talk Jovi, I’m going to hold your wings over a fire!”

The lesser angel’s eyes bubbled with tears. “No! No, I want to help Miss Jovi!”

“I’ll be doing plenty of that!”

“No, you won’t, you’ll hurt Miss Jovi! Only an angel knows what Miss Jovi needs!”

“Keep going, Iris,” Vincent whispered. “I have a date.”

Iris soared forward, continuing to bicker. Vincent banked on Iris’ anger, Susan’s ‘sense of justice,’ and Ambrose’s idleness so that he could speak to Jovi freely. Although he’d be able to tune out Susan’s barks himself and that Jovi wouldn’t hear Susan above his own voice, Vincent wanted to enjoy Jovi’s company authentically. It’s the most pleasant way to pick someone apart.

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