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I always thought the purgatory looked like a dentist's waiting room. The receptionist would look down on her list and say "Adolf Hitler, Satan would see you for your eternal damnation now." in a professional voice. Who knew the purgatory was probably hiding under cars and hidden rooms at the garage. Maybe Damon's desk is the waiting area and I slept there for a night.

"Catherine, are you in there?" I felt someone lightly tapping my forehead. Rose was looking at me funny.

"You don't have to be shy with me Cat. So tell me," she looked at the door before leaning closer, "was he that good?"

I glared at her. Why would she just assume the I was frick fracking with Damon? I mean we live together but that was it. Sure I want to experience some sort of 'adventure of a lifetime' before I die, but hooking up with a reaper certainly isn't on my bucket list.

"He has a small willy wonka," I whispered while showing her my pinkie finger. Rose stared at me for a good minute before grabbing my hands, understanding on her face.

"Are you making him feel better about himself? You're such a kind soul Cat." I withdrew my hands quickly. What in the name of some saint is she talking about? What was there to comfort? By the mention of souls, I fidgeted with my hands.

"Rose, what would you do if, oh i don't know – someone told you they took souls for a living?" I spoke so fast I don't think she understood what I just said. Rose frowned and placed a finger on her lips.

"I'll ask him on where they go afterwards. Oh and if I have a soul. It's annoying when people ask me if gingers have souls. Better to hear it from an expert."

"My my Rose. Sure you have a soul. Not worthy enough to be accepted at the gates of heaven, but I'm pretty sure you have one." We both laughed. I think I'm going to ask Damon that question later. Rose left after hugging me, saying I was doing an honorable thing by staying with him. I badly wanted to tell her the truth but it was not mine to tell.

My day consisted of meeting a couple of people for venues on book signings and later at lunch, continued reading manuscripts. I tried avoiding the others knowing that they'll probably ask me about Damon. God knows how many women attempted to have a conversation with me just to pry some information about him.

Nobody knew I lived with him. Just Ellie and Rose.

My parents are going to kill me.

I know I'm old enough to say (insert Lindsey Lohan's whining voice from Freaky Friday here) 'Let me live my own life!", but I never had the guts to tell them that. I try to convince myself that they just want what's good for me.

Oh sure. Damon's really good for you.

I winced. Even my mind's being sarcastic.

I looked at my wristwatch to see that I've been reading for five hours straight and only a couple of minutes before Damon would come over to pick me up. I quickly got my handbag and produced a mirror, my magic lipstick and some baby powder. I was pouting my lips while putting on some lipstick when I suddenly stopped.

Why are you trying to look pretty?

I put down my lipstick and sighed. Why am I trying to look pretty? Convincing myself that I'm doing it for myself would be an old excuse. Looking at myself in the mirror, I lifted my chin. I don't think it's wrong to try and look presentable for someone. Impressing a person isn't a crime. Smiling, I patted my cheeks, making them slightly pink.

Someone knocked on my door and I quickly grabbed a manuscript. Don't want to look too eager now, do we ladies?

I looked up and was disappointed to see Ashley.

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