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Selah’s body was jerky with anger as she threw her napkin on the floor. She got to her feet so abruptly that her chair would have fallen if Dawson, a boulder of a werewolf who ran a motorcycle repair business, hadn’t caught it with one huge hand. Selah grabbed up her purse to stalk out of the door, narrowly avoiding a collision with my friend Tara, who was entering.

Dawson was highly amused by the whole scene. “All that over a vamp,” he said. “Them cold-blooded things must be something, to get fine-looking women so upset.”

“Who’s upset?” I said, smiling and standing straighter to show Sam I was unfazed. I doubt he was fooled, since Sam knows me pretty well, but he got my emotional drift and went back behind the bar. The buzz of discussion of this juicy scene rose from the lunch crowd. I strode over to the table where Tara was sitting. She had JB du Rone in tow.

“Looking good, JB,” I said brightly, pulling the menus from between the napkin box and the salt and pepper shakers in the middle of the table and handing one to him and one to Tara. My hands were shaking, but I don’t think they noticed.

JB smiled up at me. “Thanks, Sookie,” he said in his pleasant baritone. JB was just beautiful, but really short on the brains. However, that gave him a charming simplicity. Tara and I had watched out for him in school, because once that simplicity was observed and targeted by other, less handsome boys, JB had been in for some rough patches . . . especially in junior high. Since Tara and I also both had huge flaws in our own popularity profiles, we’d tried to protect JB as much as we were able. In return, JB had squired me to a couple of dances I’d wanted to go to very badly, and his family had given Tara a place to stay a couple of times when I couldn’t.

Tara had had sex with JB somewhere along this painful road. I hadn’t. It didn’t seem to make any difference to either relationship.

“JB has a new job,” Tara said, smiling in a self-satisfied way. So that was why she’d come in. Our relationship had been uneasy for the past few months, but she knew I’d want to share in her pride at having done a good thing for JB.

That was great news. And it helped me not think about Selah Pumphrey and her load of anger.

“Whereabouts?” I asked JB, who was looking at the menu as if he’d never seen it before.

“At the health club in Clarice,” he said. He looked up and smiled. “Two days a week, I sit at the desk wearing this.” He waved a hand at his clean and tight-fitting golf shirt, striped burgundy and brown, and his pressed khakis. “I get the members to sign in, I make healthy shakes, and I clean the equipment and hand out towels. Three days a week, I wear workout clothes and I spot for all the ladies.”

“That sounds great,” I said, awestruck at the perfection of the job for JB’s limited qualifications. JB was lovely: impressive muscles, handsome face, straight white teeth. He was an ad for physical health. Also, he was naturally good-natured and neat.

Tara looked at me, expecting her due praise. “Good work,” I told her. We gave each other a high five.

“Now, Sookie, the only thing that would make life perfect is you calling me some night,” JB said. No one could project a wholesome, simple lust like JB.

“Thanks so much, JB, but I’m seeing someone now,” I said, not troubling to keep my voice down. After Selah’s little exhibition, I felt the need to brag a little.

“Oooh, that Quinn?” Tara asked. I may have mentioned him to her once or twice. I nodded, and we did another high five. “Is he in town now?” she asked in a lower voice, and I said, “Left this morning,” just as quietly.

“I want the Mexican cheeseburger,” JB said.

“Then I’ll get you one,” I said, and after Tara had ordered, I marched to the kitchen. Not only was I delighted for JB, I was happy that Tara and I seemed to have mended our fences. I had needed a little upswing to my day, and I had gotten it.

When I reached home with a couple of bags of groceries, Amelia was back and my kitchen sparkled like an exhibit in a Southern Homes show. When she was feeling stressed