Once Upon Stilettos

Page 80

Owen and I exchanged a look. “You are?” Owen asked suspiciously.
After I took a glance around the lobby, I could see why. It had been transformed into one of those rope-climbing courses, with the ropes hanging suspended in midair. “You two can be the first to try it out,” Rod said.
It looked like the team-building effort for MSI had begun. Maybe paranoia and distrust weren’t so bad after all, I thought as I looked at the rope-filled maze.
“Don’t even think about it,” Owen said, and I was glad he declined before I had to.
Rod’s face fell, and for a moment I thought I could see some of his true self that lay behind the illusion. “Why not?”
“Bad shoulder, remember? I’m still not completely healed. Wouldn’t want to risk it.”
“I’m wearing a skirt today, so it probably wouldn’t be a good idea,” I hurried to add. “And maybe we ought to start smaller? I’m not sure having that many ropes around when people are already at each other’s throats is such a good idea.”
Rod winced. “You may be right. But don’t worry, I have other ideas.” He waved a hand and the rope course disappeared. Owen looked visibly relieved. I was glad to get out of anything that gave me unpleasant high school PE flashbacks, not to mention the fact that I didn’t really want to get tangled up in ropes set up by someone I still had on my list of suspects. Before Rod could come up with anything else he wanted to test on us, both Owen and I made excuses about busy days and hurried out of there.
My office turned out to be even more disconcerting than the lobby had been. It had been thoroughly decorated overnight. There was a small Christmas tree in one corner with snow delicately drifting down onto it, only to vanish before it hit the ground. Twinkling stars were suspended beneath the ceiling, with no visible cords attached.
As I stood in the doorway admiring the view, Trix came up behind me. “Do you like it?” she asked.
“Yeah. Who did it?”
She winked. “It’s a secret. How are you doing?”
“Better. In fact, I think I’m almost fully recovered.”
“Good to hear it. He’s not worth wasting tears over if he can’t appreciate you for who you are. So does that mean you’ll be joining us for girls’ night out Friday?”
“I think I will.”
“Then bring those sexy red shoes and we’ll take ’em out on the town for a good time.”
I was sure I had work to do, but first I needed to find a way to get my cookies to Owen without anyone catching on. I checked Merlin’s calendar and saw that he had a meeting with Owen that afternoon. Quite often, I was invited to those meetings, but I hadn’t been invited to this one, much to my relief. If I were there, I’d be there in my capacity as a verifier, and that was something I couldn’t do without magical immunity. But while Owen was in the meeting, I could drop the cookies off at his office.
I wasn’t entirely off the hook when it came to verification, though. Midmorning, Merlin called me to his office. “I’m afraid this is short notice,” he said, “but I have a meeting with Corporate Sales and a new potential corporate customer in a few minutes. We’re not putting together a contract yet, but I’d like to have you there, just in case. I’d insult them if I brought in a regular verifier, but having you there as my assistant and letting it be known you’re an immune might intimidate them into good behavior.”
I thought the lump that grew in my throat would choke me to death. Could I bluff my way through a meeting, even if I wasn’t called upon for official verification? “No problem,” I said, hoping I sounded perky instead of nervously shrill.
When the visitors arrived, I thought they didn’t seem particularly unusual, but then again, would I know? The potential customer could have been Satan incarnate, complete with horns, cloven hooves, and pointy tail, and if he wanted us to think he looked normal, he’d look normal to me. But he didn’t act like someone who was pulling one over on us. I’d noticed that there was a smugness about people who were doing something they thought others wouldn’t see. It was like that old T-shirt slogan: SMILE! MAKE OTHERS WONDER WHAT YOU’RE UP TO.
The Corporate Sales guy, whom I remembered was named Ryker, introduced the customer to Merlin, then Merlin introduced me. “Miss Chandler will be observing the meeting and taking notes,” he said. He put special emphasis on the word “observing,” which I supposed implied that I’d be looking at the meeting with my supposedly unique perspective. I felt a surge of guilt. I ought to have told Merlin. It wasn’t fair to let him think he had a magically immune assistant when he didn’t.