The Novel Free

Once Upon Stilettos





He groaned. “Don’t start that again, please. I’m just on my best behavior with you.”



I liked the sound of that, even though I doubted he meant anything by it. I played with the fringe on the Oriental rug we were sitting on. “So, what now? We have our suspect and our evidence. Do we bust her, or what?”



“I don’t think so, not yet. All we have is proof that she was targeting you. It makes sense that she’s also our spy and that she therefore works for Idris. But we don’t have that evidence.”



“We’ll have to set a trap,” I said, thinking aloud. “We’ll have to goad her into acting.”



“Now that we know who it is, we can be much more specific in what we set up,” he said, nodding in agreement.



“The trick will be thinking of a trap.”



He looked over at me. “Do you have any plans for the rest of the day?”



It was like he’d read my mind. I could think of nothing I’d rather do on a snowy Saturday than spend the day strategizing ways to save the company while snuggling in front of a fireplace with a man I was crazy about. Okay, so snuggling wasn’t likely, given that he seemed reluctant to touch me except under extreme circumstances, but a girl could hope.



While he washed the breakfast dishes and I dried, he thought out loud. “I don’t think you should let on that you’re getting your immunity back once it starts coming back. Make her think you’re still affected.” He handed me a plate to dry. “Do you think you could fake being affected while pretending not to be affected? You did a good enough job of fooling most of us.”



“I may not have to fake it. I don’t know how long it’ll take to come back.”



“And you definitely shouldn’t let on that you know about the shoes.”



“Yeah, but how are we going to get every man in sight to follow me around acting all besotted?”



“Easy. We set our trap for the company Christmas party Friday night. Trust me, after a couple of hours at one of our parties, all kinds of strange things start to happen.” He suddenly grinned. “In fact, I believe I have an idea.”



I loved his idea, and hated it at the same time. It gave me everything I’d ever wanted, but with the hollow awareness that it was all for show. By the time he bundled me up in a pair of his neighbor’s snow boots and one of his old coats and walked me home that afternoon, I had a date for the company party and an excuse to wear my new dress. I also had a better sense of how devious he could be beneath that angelic face. I almost had to pity the bad guy dumb enough to take on Owen Palmer.



He met me in front of my building Monday morning with my coat over his arm and a Starbucks cup in one hand. I’d followed his instructions to use bottled water even to brush my teeth, so I was dying for the coffee. I was patient, though, and let him help me put the coat on before I grabbed the coffee from him. I noticed as I did so that his knuckles looked bruised. I had a sinking feeling that had something to do with him having the coat I’d left at Rod’s place.



As we walked to the subway station, I rehearsed our plan for the day between sips of coffee. “So, I try to act like I accept everything that happened to me on face value, and like I’m happy with it, right?”



“Right. That should drive her nuts, especially if her plan was to ruin your life.”



“Then you’ll do your part to drive her nuts. Somehow I doubt it was part of her scheme to send me straight into your arms.” That was the part of the plan I both loved and hated. I had a feeling that by the end of this week, Ari wouldn’t be the only one driven insane.



The plan kicked into gear when I got to my office. “How was your weekend?” Trix asked.



All I had to do was think of that kiss, and I knew I got the appropriate dreamy look. “Better than I could have anticipated,” I answered. “What about your date with Ethan?”



“It was fun. But I want to hear about what happened with you. Shall I convene the lunch bunch?”



“Sure. I should be free.” As soon as I got to my desk, I sent Owen a “mission accomplished” e-mail. My secret Santa had left a box of chocolates on my desk, and I was tempted to celebrate with one, until I remembered Owen’s warning. I shoved the box to the far corner of my desk so I wouldn’t forget and reach for one.



At lunchtime, I took the sack lunch I’d brought from home, just in case, and gathered in a conference room with Ari, Trix, and Isabel. I hated having to snow Trix and Isabel, but I was sure they’d understand later. “So,” Trix began, “what was it about your weekend that made you so starry-eyed?”
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