Once Upon Stilettos

She sighed and rolled her eyes. “Mine won’t be hard, but it won’t be much fun, either.” Her phone rang in the outer office, and she said, “Oops, gotta go!” then fluttered away.



That brought up an important question: who had been assigned to me? And what would they do? At a magical company, they could easily wave some treat into existence in my office. I was at a distinct disadvantage because I’d have to sneak around and get into a highly secured department. To make matters worse, my primary excuse for getting into that department was the person I’d be trying to surprise. It looked like I’d be hanging out with Ari more often to give me an excuse to go down there.



In the meantime, I had a date to worry about. I had to force myself to concentrate on work all morning instead of looking at my watch every five minutes and daydreaming about how lunch would go. I laughed at how silly I was being once I became aware of what I was doing. I hadn’t put that much importance on our first date, when the fate of the magical world had hinged on the outcome. But that was the world. This was about my own fate.



When noon rolled around and I heard Ethan’s voice outside in the reception area, I restrained myself from rushing out there, waiting instead for Trix to call me and tell me my visitor had arrived. He surprised me by coming himself, tapping on my door, sticking his head inside, and saying, “Ready to go?”



“Just a moment.” I made a show of closing out the document I was working on, even though my hands shook. Then I got my purse out of a desk drawer, stood up, and took my coat off the hook on the back of the door. “Now I’m ready,” I said, with what I hoped was an enticing smile. Trix winked and gave me a thumbs-up as we headed toward the escalator.



He took me to a nearby restaurant that seemed designed for business lunches. The tables were all set in booths with backs high enough to keep sound from traveling to other tables. You could sit in there and talk business without worrying about your competitor eavesdropping from the next table. It said a lot about what I’d been dealing with at work that this was my first assumption when I saw the restaurant. It was also possible that the low lighting and high-backed booths meant it was a prime location for illicit trysts. I wasn’t sure what Ethan’s motive for taking me there was. Maybe they simply had good food.



“So, your parents got home okay?” Ethan said once we’d been seated and the waiter had taken our drink orders.



“Yeah, and Mom remains blissfully unaware of the existence of magic, so all’s right with the world.”



He chuckled. “That was certainly an interesting Thanksgiving dinner.”



“Oh, please,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Parents have a talent for embarrassing their offspring. I’m sure if I’d been with your family, something equally wacky would have been going on.”



“You’re probably right.”



I cast him what I hoped was a properly flirtatious glance. “You did make quite an impression on my parents. Picking them up at the airport, being such a perfect gentleman at dinner—it all added up to high parental brownie points.” I attempted an eyelash flutter, making use of that second coat of mascara I’d put on. “And I don’t think you’re so bad, either.”



It might have been the dim lighting, but I was pretty sure he blushed. It wasn’t quite as cute on him as it was on Owen, and I thought he almost looked uncomfortable. He picked up his menu and said, “I guess we’d better figure out what we want to order. I come here with clients a lot, and everything I’ve had is good. They’re also pretty quick, so we can get back to work.”



I gave him a mock pout. “So you’re not whisking me away after lunch to have your wicked way with me?”



“Alas, duty calls. My clients might object, and your boss certainly would. I think I’ll have the pork medallions.”



There was something wrong about that, or was I being paranoid? While I knew we both had to go back to work, would it have killed him to give me a little hope? He could have expressed true regret or taken a rain check. It was the perfect opportunity for him to ask me out for the weekend. I took a flat bread from the basket on the table and snapped it in two. “The chicken breast looks good,” I said, trying not to sound as sullen as I felt. Maybe it was me. I needed more remedial flirting lessons if I couldn’t get across the message that I’d be available for amorous activity, if he so desired.



The waiter returned with our drinks, and I suddenly wished I’d ordered something other than iced tea, even if I did have to go back to work. Ethan ordered for both of us, then took a bread stick from the basket and nibbled on it. I scraped the seeds off my flat bread with my thumbnail onto my bread plate, not because I didn’t like seeds but because I needed some way to expend nervous energy.