Once Upon Stilettos

Page 71

I made a detour to the sales department and found Hertwick in his office. As soon as I appeared in the doorway, he became uncharacteristically bashful. “You want to know why I was in the park, right?” he said gruffly, looking like a schoolboy being called on the carpet for dropping cherry bombs in the toilets. “I bet that looked pretty suspicious to you, huh?”
“Yeah, it did. But these days, everything looks suspicious.”
“I was taking a break.”
“A break?”
“If you had a meeting out of the office, and nothing pressing waiting for you, you’d maybe stop off at Starbucks for a latte on the way back, wouldn’t you? You know, give yourself a break, something to boost you through the next couple of hours, right?”
I probably wouldn’t, because I was too frugal to buy designer coffee, but I knew what he meant. “Yeah.”
“So, for my people, digging in the dirt is like a double latte with that chocolate stuff sprinkled on top. We weren’t made for working in offices.”
“Why do you?” I couldn’t help but ask.
He reddened, and for a brief moment he looked more cute than gruff. “Because I’m probably the one gnome in all creation with a brown thumb. I love digging in the dirt, but everything I touch dies.”
I bit my tongue to keep myself from laughing. He probably didn’t think it was all that funny. “Okay, sounds reasonable,” I said.
“So you don’t suspect me of spying?”
“Not unless you give me any other reason to think you’re a spy.” I couldn’t help but believe him. I doubted he’d admit to something so embarrassing if it weren’t true. If he’d been lying, he would have come up with a better story.
That was one item checked off my list. Only three major things to go. Then I remembered one more item to add: knock Ethan’s socks off at lunch the next day so I could look forward to a truly hot weekend.
I got up early the next morning to get ready for work in the sexy but still-business-appropriate outfit Gemma and Marcia helped me plan. As I finished dressing, I gave my new shoe box a quick pat for luck. I might not be wearing the red shoes to work, but I hoped I could carry their aura with me into the day.
As soon as I entered the office suite, Trix gave a low whistle. “My, don’t you look hot!” she said, fanning herself. “You wouldn’t happen to be meeting a certain lawyer for lunch, would you?”
“Maybe.” I tried for an enigmatic expression, but failed utterly, breaking out into a grin. “Actually, he’s supposed to come by here at noon to pick me up.”
“Lucky girl.” She sighed mournfully.
“What’s wrong? You and Pippin haven’t worked things out?”
“It may not happen at all. He got mad because I wasn’t returning his calls, and now I’m the one calling him and begging him to forgive me. I should have known better than to play games. And I really should have known better than to take relationship advice from someone who can’t manage to stay in one. Next time I listen to Ari, slap me, okay?”
“If you insist. But he’ll probably come around once his bruised male ego heals.”
I got to my office to find that Rod already had the secret Santa memo out. I’d been assigned as Owen’s Santa. I suspected Isabel was responsible for that. She occasionally teased me about Owen’s attention to me. I wasn’t quite sure how I felt about being Owen’s Santa. Once I might have been thrilled at the chance. Now I was apprehensive. On one hand, I was gradually getting to know him, to the point that I probably knew him better than I knew anyone else at the company. I might even have considered him my best friend at the company. But on the other hand, me sneaking into R&D to leave him treats would certainly ratchet up the company gossip.
“So, who’d you get?” I looked up to see Trix hovering in my doorway. “It’s supposed to be a secret. You know, as in secret Santa,” I said, trying to look enigmatic.
“Good point. Tell one person around here, and within an hour the entire company will know. Sometimes I think the walls have ears.”
“Around here, that’s not so far-fetched.”
She glanced over her shoulder, like she was making sure nobody was eavesdropping, then said softly, “Well, can you at least tell me if you got someone good? I mean, will it be fun to do stuff for them, or are you going to have to grit your teeth and force yourself not to be a teensy bit mean?”
I couldn’t help but smile. “I got someone good. Challenging, maybe, but being nice won’t be hard. What about you?”