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Once Upon Stilettos

Page 30

   



While I set my coffee down on my desk, Ethan closed my door behind him. I was on the verge of real worry when he stepped forward and pulled me to him in a big hug, then kissed me. He was grinning when he let me go. “Was that what you wanted to see me about?” I asked. The kiss had left me dizzy and breathless, most likely because it was so unexpected. In our extremely short relationship, we’d never come close to kissing.
He shrugged. “Maybe. I didn’t think you really wanted that to happen out in the lobby.”
“Us dating is the worst-kept secret in the company. Even Merlin knows. But thanks for the attempt at discretion.”
He settled into my guest chair. “Sorry I didn’t get a chance to call yesterday. How have you been? It wasn’t too bad a hangover, was it?”
I sat down and took a sip of coffee. “I’m fine. I’ve had worse hangovers. Not many, granted. I’m not sure I have what it takes to be a wine connoisseur, though. You’d have to be able to get through one of those dinners without getting blitzed.”
“It’s like any sport. You have to train and work up to it. But I promise, no getting you drunk next time. And speaking of next time, what are you doing Friday night?”
“If the rest of the week goes like this, very possibly I’ll be putting my head in the oven.”
“Dinner with me might be more fun than that.”
“I may be begging you to get me drunk by then.”
“Only if you insist. So it’s a date?”
I studied him for a long moment. True, he wasn’t Owen, but if the night before had taught me anything, it was that as cute as Owen was, whatever it took to bridge the gap from friends to lovers apparently wasn’t there for us—at least, not from his side of things. Even I was beginning to pick up on and maybe even welcome the brother vibe. It wasn’t like Ethan was sloppy seconds, either. It was entirely possible that if I put Owen out of my mind for more than a few minutes, something might happen with Ethan. The kiss had been a good start.
“It’s a date,” I said. “Should we leave from here, meet somewhere later, or what?”
“We can leave from here. I’m not planning anything fancy you’d need to change clothes for.”
“What are you planning?”
He gave me a wink. “That would be a surprise. See you Friday after work.” Then he got out of his chair, opened the office door, and left.
Within seconds, Trix was hovering in my doorway. “Hmm, looks like the date last weekend went well.”
“I guess so.”
“He did come to ask you out, right?”
“Yeah, looks like it. Did he have any other business here?”
She shook her head. “Nope. He’d just shown up when you came out in a caffeine frenzy. I think he was here specifically to see you.”
“Wow.” I wasn’t used to someone actually pursuing me—aside from the brief time when Jeff was stalking me, and that was part of an enchantment, anyway. I had to admit it was kind of nice.
“He’s not bad at all, for a human.”
“Yeah, I suppose I could do a lot worse. I have done a lot worse. And now I need to think of something to wear to work Friday that will carry over to a casual post-work date.”
“Did he tell you where you’ll be going?”
“He said it was a surprise.”
She rolled her eyes. “Men! Don’t they know we need to prepare ourselves?”
She had just fluttered away when Merlin appeared. “Have you made any progress on the investigation?” he asked.
“Just enough to know that all of our employees are entirely dysfunctional. Is there a company policy against magical duels during working hours on company property? I sure hope so.”
“Have none of the tips been helpful?”
“No, not really. Most of them have nothing to do with the immediate situation.” My phone rang and I ignored it, letting it add to the pileup of voice mail. “I’m starting to wonder if that might be the point to all this. Maybe it’s more about sabotage than about spying.”
“Sabotage?”
“Well, think about it. If everyone’s making calls to rat out their co-workers, they’re not doing their work. You can’t have effective teamwork if people don’t trust each other, and nobody trusts each other right now. We’re at a standstill.”
He stroked his beard in thought. “You may be right. How would you go about investigating that angle?”
Suddenly it struck me that this was something I knew all about. I was from a small town, so I was an expert in gossip. I might not know anything about investigating corporate espionage, but I knew all about how rumors spread. With increased confidence, I said, “Track the grapevine to its source. Find out who told whom what and when. You said it yourself yesterday—the only people who knew about the spying were you, Owen, me, and the spy. If we find out who was the first one so eager to let others know there might be a spy, it might lead us to our mole.”