A Stroke Of Magic (10 page)

“As a gift?” he asked.

I opened my mouth to say what I was thinking, that it was more along the lines of dousing one of my nightshirts with it, but luckily, rational thought won out. “Um. Yes. As a gift…for…one of my brothers.”

He reached across the desk and grabbed a pad of Postits. After scribbling on the top sheet, he handed it over. “I don’t think you can buy it locally. I wrote down the Web site I purchase it from.”

“Oh. Okay. Thanks.” I folded up the little yellow paper and shoved it in my pocket.

He waited expectantly, his eyes never leaving mine. I tried to remember what I needed to tell him, but sadly, my mind remained a total blank.

“There’s something I wanted to ask you, but you go first. What did you need to talk about?” he said.

All at once, it came back to me: The e-mail. The invitation. Awesome. Better to just get it over with, you know? “Well…I sort of sent you an e-mail this morning. See, I meant to send it only to you, but somehow I clicked wrong, and it went out to several other people.”

“Is this a problem?”

“Not really, but I thought you should know. Because…well, I sort of…Not sort of. I did. And…” Crap. This was hard. Really, really hard.

Then he did something completely unexpected. He wrapped his hand around mine. His touch set off little tiny explosions in my brain, making it even more difficult to think. And to breathe. “You did what?”

I still couldn’t think. Probably I needed oxygen, so I sucked in a large mouthful of air. Only, instead of helping, it made me a little dizzy. My mouth went dry. “Um.”

“What is it, Alice? It can’t be that bad.”

“I asked you out on a date. In the e-mail. And by now, probably everyone knows about it, so, well…I needed to tell you.” I hoped he understood me, because no way would I be able to say it all again.

He didn’t reply, but he didn’t let go of my hand, either. A light of interest—and humor?—gleamed in his eyes. “Let me make sure I have this right. You asked me out on a date via an e-mail, which you accidentally sent to several other people here at Enchanted Expressions. Is that correct?”

“Um. Yes.” He didn’t appear taken aback by the idea. At all. That propelled me forward. “On Saturday. To a cookout,” I blurted.

The gleam in his eye grew brighter. “Ah, yes. The American tradition of broiling meat over a grill in the great outdoors. And you’d like me to escort you?”

“Should be fun,” I offered. “And you’ll be able to meet my friends.”

He didn’t respond right away, which worried me. Maybe I’d gone too far? Maybe I’d misinterpreted everything? Or, even worse, maybe I was delusional. I should have known better than to listen to Grandma Verda. But then he squeezed my hand, sending another thousand volts through my brain. “I’d love to go. I’m just sorry I didn’t ask you out first. I was planning on it.”

“Really? You were?”

“Yes, I really was. But you beat me to it.”

Wow. Warmth centered into me, flowing through my body like water. “So…you’re not upset about the e-mail?”

“Not at all. Are you?”

Hmm. How much to say? “Not upset, but worried, maybe. You are the boss. I don’t want people thinking bad things about you. Or me.”

“We’re allowed to have a personal life, Alice. And as long as we don’t let it affect what happens at the office, then I don’t see any issues.” He grinned. “Besides, I think you’ll find most people here won’t even care.”

Well, okay. He had a point. There were already several couples, a few of them even married, employed at Enchanted Expressions. And, as he’d said before, it was a laid-back office. But it still worried me.

Even so, that worry didn’t stop the tingle of excitement from knowing he was interested. In
me.
“Maybe you’re right.”

“I am. I’m not saying there might not be some teasing here and there, but I’ve worked hard to create an environment that respects personal space. Give the people here a little credit. They’re not going to care what we do in our off time.”

All at once, his shoulders stiffened. “Unless you’re not comfortable with this. That’s an entirely different matter. I’d like to date you, Alice. And seeing as you sent me that e-mail, I’m assuming you feel the same. But what’s most important is your comfort level. You can take the invitation back if you’re having second thoughts.”

“No! I’m not. I definitely am not doing that,” I murmured.

“Then don’t worry about the e-mail. I’ll take care of it,” he promised.

This thing happened then; I’m not sure exactly how to explain it. But the air became charged, and all I wanted to do was lean forward, stroke his cheek with my hand, and kiss him like he’d never been kissed before. As if he could hear my thoughts, he blinked. His eyes darkened from their normal light gray to a smoky black.

The yearning grew stronger. I stuck my lollipop back in my mouth and willed my body to chill out. My skin flushed, and I knew, without even looking in a mirror, I was likely red all over. I tried to find control, I really did. But as he leaned forward, I knew if his lips touched mine, I’d lose any and all control—and dear God, what a pleasant thought that was.

His eyes found mine again, still dark, searching. I needed to cool down. Fast. Before I did something I shouldn’t be doing—at least not here, and not now. I wished for an icy cold shower, because honestly, being doused with frigid water was about the only thing that would stop this moment that was about to happen. Tickles of anticipation dotted my skin. And then a long, slow series of shivers began.

Oh-so-gently, he removed the lollipop from my hand and pulled it from my mouth. Dear God, he was really going to kiss me.

“Alice,” he sighed, “I find you in my thoughts constantly. Even when I’m supposed to be focusing on other things, you’re there, making it quite difficult to concentrate on anything.” His head bent down. I gave up the fight, closed my eyes, and waited for our lips to touch.

My stomach swirled, the shivers grew stronger and, right or wrong, too fast or not, I couldn’t wait for his kiss. His hand grasped my chin, tipped my face upward, and another tremble whisked over and through me.

Just as our lips should have met, a blast of icy cold water poured down on my head, slicing through my clothes to my skin. I gasped. Pulling back, I opened my eyes. “It’s raining!” I choked, wrapping my arms around me.

“Not rain!” he called over the downpour. “The sprinklers have gone off. Come on, we need to get out of here. There must be a fire in the building.”

He pulled me from the chair. Before we even made it to the door, however, we realized the rain had stopped. Just like that. And that’s when it hit: I’d wished for an icy cold shower, and that was what I’d gotten. Maybe this was good, maybe bad, but at least I had time to think about the kiss that had almost happened.

“Hmm, that’s a little strange,” Ethan remarked. We turned back to appraise the room, and what we saw was even stranger. Because the only wet spots were the chairs we’d just sat in; everything on Ethan’s desk remained dry, and the rest of the office was untouched. “I’m going to make sure everything’s okay,” he said, heading for his phone.

Another thought occurred: Not all of my wishes came true. But this particular wish had. Was that because Ethan
wasn’t
my soul mate, or was it just because it was too much, too soon? Or perhaps it was the wrong place? I didn’t know. But, somehow, whether with magic or without, it needed to be figured out.

I tugged at my wet clothes and then pushed a strand of sopping hair behind my ear, waiting for Ethan to finish his call. When he hung up, he said, “Everything’s fine. But the sprinkler company is sending a technician over to see if they can figure out what happened.”

“At least your computer and everything is okay,” I pointed out. I felt kind of bad, because I knew the technician wasn’t going to find anything wrong.

“Thank goodness.” He took in my wet appearance, and then glanced down at his own soaked clothes. “Go home and change. I’m going to do the same. If it weren’t for that staff meeting today, I’d suggest we play hooky. Go take in a movie or something.”

Honestly? I was kind of glad for the staff meeting. Because I kind of thought a little distance before spending any more alone time with Ethan would be a good plan. You know, just to get things straightened out in my head.

I remembered that feeling right before the kiss that didn’t happen—how much I’d wanted to kiss him, to touch him, to taste him. I shook my head to push the sensation away.

“That would have been nice,” I mumbled.

“Another time,” he promised.

“I’m…um…going to go do that now—go home and change,” I said. And with that, I swiveled on my heel and attempted to walk naturally out of his office. I was pretty pleased I didn’t fall on my face.

Later that afternoon, dressed in dry clothing and after the staff meeting, I gathered my belongings and headed for my desk. Other than a few snickers from my coworkers regarding the mass-delivered e-mail, not to mention my soaking wet departure from Ethan’s office that morning, the meeting had gone well.

True to his word, Ethan had put a halt to the giggling. He’d made a quick announcement about how we were a team, and that every person within the team also had a private life that sometimes bled into the workplace. He reminded us to respect each other, and to keep the focus on work. His message did the trick, because the sidelong glances ended.

Beyond that, we were going to move ahead with my design ideas for the Frosty’s account as well as Missy’s, and present both to the client in a few weeks. So, points for me.

Missy had glared at me throughout the entire meeting, however. I didn’t know if it was over the account or the date e-mail, or maybe both, but Ethan was right. I needed to confront the issue and deal with it. Her attitude bugged me. A lot. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not one of those women who needs everyone to like her, but if someone’s going to dislike me, it’d be nice to know why. I was pretty sure it wasn’t just because we had divergent views on the ad campaign.

After I dropped my stuff at my desk, I made my way to Missy’s office. She’d moved up the ranks enough to have her own space, which was convenient. I really didn’t want to have this conversation with other people in hearing distance.

When I reached her office, I knocked on the door, even though it hung open. She looked up from the file on her desk. Her lips turned down in a frown. “Do you need something, Alice?”

“I’d like a few minutes of your time. Can I come in?”

Even though she nodded, it was clear she wasn’t happy with the idea. But hey, too bad. I stepped in and closed the door. “We should talk.”

“You heard Ethan. We’re working on both of our ideas for Mr. Kendall, so I can’t see what you need to talk to me about,” she snapped.

“This isn’t about the account. Or maybe it is. I don’t know.” I crossed my arms. “Look, it’s been fairly obvious since day one that you have an issue with me. Seeing as I’d never met you before I began working here, I’d like to know why.”

She laced her fingers together and rested her chin on them, her hazel eyes centered on me. “I’m not sure we should be having this conversation.” But she wanted to. I could tell by the anger that sizzled off of her in waves.

“Well, I’m not leaving until you tell me what the deal is, so just say it.” I plopped down in a chair to punctuate my statement. “Besides, Ethan’s noticed and he’s concerned. So unless you want to talk to him about it, you’ll talk to me.”

That pissed her off more. “Yeah, well, you’re already the teacher’s pet, aren’t you? Are you trying to get me fired?”

The venom in her voice shocked me. “No, Missy. He came to me and asked me what the issue was. I told him the truth—that I don’t know. He then suggested he should talk to you, and I asked him not to.”

Somehow, and I’m not sure how, my words calmed her a little. Not enough to remove all of the fire blazing in her eyes, but at least she didn’t appear ready to strangle me. Clobber me, maybe. “Trust me. You don’t want to get into this,” she said.

“I’ve worked here for a little over a month. Somehow, in that minuscule time frame, I’ve done something, said something, acted in a way that irritated you. My preference would be to get along, but I don’t see how I can do that unless you tell me what needs to be fixed.”

She brushed a flyaway strand of brunette hair off her cheek. “What you did has nothing to do with Enchanted Expressions. I dislike you as a person. You can’t fix it.”

What the hell? I kept my voice calm. “How can you dislike someone you don’t even know?”

She leaned back in her chair and studied me. “Maybe that came out incorrectly. You’re absolutely right: I don’t know you. But I know what you represent, and I know you’re missing something that all decent people have.”

Whoa! I felt a little like I had when Miranda had sucked me away into her time, but at least that had made some sense. “And what would that be?”

“A conscience, Miss Raymond.”

Whoa, again. I reeled in my temper and tried to remind myself that this woman didn’t know me. That her opinion of me didn’t matter in the slightest. “That’s not something you say to a person without a very good reason to back it up.”

“Oh, I can back it up.” In one quick motion, she grabbed a photo frame that sat on her desk facing her, and turned it toward me. “This picture should answer your questions.”

I glanced at the photo and the blood drained from my face. I looked from the picture to Missy and then back. “Oh, God,” I muttered.

“I figured that would bring it all in line.”

I shook my head in an attempt to think clearly. Picking up the photo, I looked at it closer, hoping, somehow, it wasn’t what I thought. But of course it was. The picture was of two couples sitting at a picnic table in a park somewhere. One of the couples was Missy and a man I assumed to be her husband. Even in my distress, I noticed they appeared happy. Good for them. But as my eyes took in the other couple, my heart sank.

“You’re friends with Troy and his wife,” I said.

“Used to be. Now I’m just friends with his wife. She has a name. Do you know what it is?”

I shook my head again.