Once Upon Stilettos

“No thanks.” She made a face. “I still don’t have much of an appetite.”



“So you haven’t made up with Pippin yet?”



She shook her head, and her wings seemed to wilt a little bit. “Ari talked me out of it. He sent me flowers, though.”



“Forget about Ari. You know how bitter she is about men. If you want to be with him, talk to him. Don’t punish him if you care about him.”



“You’re probably right, Katie. Thanks.”



I went back to my office wondering what the world was coming to if I was giving dating advice.



Friday couldn’t have come fast enough for me. The spate of complaints and tips died down, and no new obvious acts of espionage came to light. I hoped that our mole had done his or her job by making us all suspicious of each other, but I knew that sooner or later, something else was bound to happen. They weren’t going to let us get entirely back to normal.



I had to admit that I was also looking forward to my date with Ethan. His kiss had left me intrigued, and by late Friday afternoon when I touched up my hair and makeup before I left to meet him, my nerves were tingling with anticipation.



I’d expected to meet him in the lobby or on the sidewalk in front of the office building, but when I stepped out the front door, a silver Mercedes was waiting on the street. I recognized Ethan’s car. He got out, ran around, and opened the door for me. “Your chariot, milady,” he said with a sweeping bow and a flirtatious grin.



With a grin of my own, I got inside. When he got back into the driver’s seat and set the car in motion, I said, “I take it we’re not going anywhere in Manhattan. If we are, you may have just lost the last available parking space.”



“I thought it would be fun to get away from the city for a change of pace. I know you’re not a native city girl, so you probably need to see green stuff every so often.”



“Green is good,” I agreed. “I’ve even been a little homesick lately, probably because my parents are coming next week.” I noticed that we’d joined the line of cars entering the Brooklyn-Battery Tunnel.



“Really? When are they coming in?”



“Monday evening. I’ve made hotel reservations. Now I probably need to hire a car service so I can pick them up from the airport.”



“I can drive you. Which airport?”



“You don’t have to do that.”



“Come on, if I don’t use the car when it’s truly helpful, there’s not much point to having one in Manhattan. I’d be glad to play airport limo.”



“You don’t mind?”



“Not at all.”



“I should probably warn you about my parents.”



“Why? They’re not going to start planning the wedding when they see you with me, are they?”



“That is a possibility. They may also be here just to try to make me go back to Texas.”



“And I should try to stop that if they do?”



“Please.”



We inched forward toward the tunnel. At the rate we were going, we might make it out of Manhattan before midnight. I reminded myself that Ethan tended to be as obsessively organized and prepared as I was, so I was sure he’d factored rush hour into his travel plans. I settled back against the leather seat, preparing for a long ride.



Ethan was as calm and unruffled about facing Manhattan traffic as he was about everything else. He even made Owen look excitable, though I supposed it was Owen’s air of carefully suppressed intensity that made him seem less calm than Ethan. And why was I thinking about Owen when I was out with somebody else?



I deliberately faced Ethan and asked, “How was your week?”



“Not nearly as interesting as yours, from what I’ve heard. How goes the investigation?”



“Nowhere. I have some theories, but tracking them down may prove difficult. I’m hoping the Thanksgiving holidays cool down some of the paranoia. Right now, the atmosphere feels like we’re not too far from tarring and feathering.”



“Sounds like the Salem witch trials.” Then he winced. “And that was probably in bad taste, considering who we’re dealing with.”



“Those weren’t real witches, and the kind of magic we deal with has nothing to do with witchcraft. But yeah, similar atmosphere.”



We finally made it into the tunnel and I almost had to hold my breath until we came out the other side. I didn’t like dark, enclosed spaces. Plus, I’d seen too many movies with car chases taking place in that tunnel.



“Where are we going, anyway?” I asked, trying to keep my mind off the thought of all the water overhead.