Once Upon Stilettos (Enchanted Inc #2) (24 page)

“So your plan is to work on morale to undercut those efforts? Good idea. What did you have in mind?”

“Some of these are going to sound really silly,” I warned. “For starters, I think we need a secret Santa program.”

“What’s that?”

Was there really a corporation in America that didn’t put its employees through that torturous ritual, whatever politically correct name they gave it? I’d been stuck playing Santa to my evil former boss, Mimi, the year before, and it had taken every ounce of self-control I had to do nice things for her instead of lacing homemade fudge with rat poison.

“It’s like a secret pal program. Everyone draws names, and then they do little surprises for the person whose name they drew. In some places, they just do one gift exchange. In others, they spend the entire month of December leaving fun little clues and presents, leading up to a more major gift exchange where the secret Santas are revealed. I was thinking that could work in two ways for us. If people have to focus on being nice to a particular person, that means they’ll have to pay attention to that person to figure out what to do and what their routine is so they can surprise them.”

“And that means you’re actually putting together a one-on-one surveillance program,” he concluded. “I like it.”

“But it’s also going to make people feel good once they start getting surprises, and since they won’t know who’s giving them treats, they might be motivated to be a little nicer to everyone.”

He made a note on the pad by his computer. “Isabel and I will take care of matching up names and getting the instructions out there. I take it you want to do this throughout the month?”

“Yeah. And then is there a big company holiday party?”

“Yes. It’s quite the to-do. We haven’t exchanged gifts before, but we could do a gift exchange where the identities of the secret Santas are revealed. That would even work as an icebreaker.” He made another note, then gave me a wicked grin that nearly made me swoon. I forced myself to imagine his bedpost, riddled with notches from women who’d fallen under his spell—literally—and to remember his status on my suspect list. “We don’t have to assign people truly randomly, do we? We can act like it’s random, but we can match up people who need to get over some personal issues.”

“I wouldn’t go so far as to match up sworn enemies,” I cautioned. “Then it can get ugly. It works best with people who don’t know each other all that well. It forces them to get to know each other.”

“Good thinking. Any other ideas?”

“That’s my most immediate one, and the one I think that’ll be easiest to implement. We should probably also do some team-building activities, something that brings a group of people together from various departments to solve problems.”

He smiled, and my heart rate increased. “This is taking me back to my days in business school when I was studying human resources. I never thought I’d implement any of that at a company like this. Give me a chance to see what I can come up with, okay?” There was a fresh gleam in his eye. It might have been part of the illusion, but I suspected it had more to do with him finally feeling useful and relevant in the grand scheme of things.

He should feel grateful for that,
I thought. So grateful, maybe, that he’d feel the need to thank me in very interesting ways. I had a few suggestions, in case he couldn’t think of anything. I cleared my throat to drop a hint, then caught myself. I didn’t want to get involved with anyone who could date twenty different women in a month. “So, I guess that’s everything we needed to talk about,” I said, the words spilling out of me in a rush as I pushed myself out of my chair. “E-mail me when you get some ideas.” I fled his office before he could say anything else.

My mental to-do list was growing longer by the minute. I needed to figure out why I wasn’t immune anymore and how to reverse it, if such a thing was possible. I needed to find our spy. I needed to find out why Hertwick had been in Central Park the other day during business hours and if it had anything to do with the things I was investigating.

I passed a man banging furiously on a shut door. “I’m supposed to be in that meeting, damn it!” he shouted as he rattled the doorknob. “Open the door or I’ll blow a hole in the wall. I’m not a spy!”

Oh yeah, and I had to help ratchet down the paranoia level in the company. That would have been a lot easier if I didn’t have very good reason to be paranoid myself. It was hard not to feel hunted when Idris and his henchmen kept showing up and my immunity was on the fritz.

Suddenly a horrible idea came to me. The way Rod had looked at me—had he known my secret? I hadn’t ruled him out as the spy, but what if he was also the one who’d found a way to remove my immunity? After all, he’d been there when I realized for the first time that my immunity was gone. Come to think of it, what was he doing heading to the office on a Saturday afternoon during a holiday weekend? If he’d tampered with my immunity somehow, he’d be able to influence me and distract me from my mission. I made a mental note to look into this and see what the chances were that he’d had anything to do with the break-in. But first, I had another errand to take care of while I was out and about.

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?”

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.