“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?”
“You went out with Rod, didn’t you?” Ari asked.
“Yeah, but that’s not who I ended up with.” I took a deliberate bite of my sandwich as they all leaned forward with great interest.
“Who did you end up with?” Isabel prodded.
I finished chewing, swallowed, then took a sip of my drink. “Well, I left Rod pretty early, and as I was heading home, I ran right into Owen, and let me tell you, he really loosens up away from work.”
“Owen?” Ari blurted. I had to bite my tongue to keep from grinning. She’d taken the bait.
“Yeah, it was the weirdest thing. He’s so shy and reserved at work, but Friday night, well, he was very, very different. I don’t know what came over him. Anyway, let’s just say I now have a date for the party Friday night.”
The others congratulated me, but I thought I saw steam coming out of Ari’s ears. Round one seemed to have gone to the illustrious team of Palmer and Chandler.
On my way back from lunch, I ran into Rod in the hallway. Even though I knew the truth about what had happened, that didn’t make me any more eager to see him. It didn’t help that my immunity still wasn’t back, so I saw the illusion that played a central role in my most cringe-inducing flashbacks. He must not have felt much better about it than I did, for he merely nodded at me as he passed. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his real face for a fraction of a second, and I was fairly sure he had a split, swollen lip. I suspected it had something to do with the bruises on Owen’s knuckles.
Then I reminded myself that it wasn’t his fault. I stopped, turned around, and said, “Rod?”
He stopped walking, stood motionless for a long moment, then finally turned around, his face totally still, like he was guarding his feelings.
I took a deep breath. “Look, about the other night. It wasn’t your fault. Both of us were under a spell.” I never thought I’d be in a situation where I’d have to give the “we were both drunk” speech, but he looked like his mood was lifting ever so slightly, so I kept going. “Even worse, I knew I was susceptible to being enchanted, which you didn’t know, so it’s probably more my fault than it is yours. I should have realized something was going on.”
He gave me a wry, sad smile. “I guess we were both pretty stupid. I should never have put us in that position. You’re my friend, and I shouldn’t have crossed that line.”
“So we’re still friends?”
“Yeah, we’re still friends—if you still want me as a friend.”
“I do,” I said, realizing that I truly meant it. Rod had his problems, but he was basically a good guy.
He gave me a goofy smile that would have been a lot more at home on his real face than it was on his illusion. “I’m glad. I really like you.” He winced, then clarified, “And by ‘like’ I mean like a friend, not anything else.”
“I know what you mean,” I hurried to assure him. “And I like you, too—in the same way.”
He stepped forward with his arms open to hug me, but just before we made contact, I felt the draw of his attraction spell and took a quick step back. “Uh, maybe we’d better not go there,” I said. “Not until I’m back to normal. We don’t want to risk going through this all over again.”
He took an even larger step backward. “Good idea.”
I felt like we still needed some way to seal the deal, so I stepped forward to where he was just within reach and gave him an awkward punch on his shoulder, like my brothers did to each other when they wanted to be affectionate but were too macho for bodily contact that didn’t look violent. “Well, see you around,” I said.
I turned to go, but he called after me. “Katie?” I looked back over my shoulder. “Thanks,” he said. “This makes me feel a lot better.”
“Me, too.” I fought for a carefree grin. “Give us a few weeks, and we’ll probably be laughing about it.”
Owen came to my office later that afternoon. “I got the test results back on the water at your building,” he said. “We wer
e right, you were being drugged. We’re getting something done about that, but in the meantime, don’t drink the water.”
“I think I’m already getting the immunity back, just little flashes every so often, but it is coming back. And you didn’t have to hit Rod.”
He turned red and rubbed his bruised knuckles. “Just carrying through on a promise I made him a while ago. He should have known better, spell or not.”
“Well, now Ari thinks you were the one her spell affected and that I didn’t mind you mauling me one bit.”
He reached for the box of chocolates my secret Santa had left on my desk, then frowned. “Don’t eat those,” he warned.
“Let me guess, they’re enchanted?”
“Yeah. And it might still affect you, could even prolong the effects of the drug. Once the drug weakened your immunity, they were able to hit you with spells to make it worse.”
“I guess I need a magical food taster now.”
“You should run things by me until we get this resolved.”
“But will it be resolved? All we’re going to do is reveal Ari and then try to get the rest of the company on track. Idris will still be out there.”
“We can only deal with each problem as it comes along.”
“He’s got to be up to something bigger if he’s trying to distract us.”
“Or he’s just enjoying watching us run around like rats in a maze. But we’ll worry about that when we get through the immediate crisis. Relax, Katie, everything will be okay.”
It was easy for him to say. He had all his magical powers at his disposal. I didn’t even have reliable nonpowers. I couldn’t be sure if someone was affecting me magically or not, and if they were, I couldn’t do anything about it.
In the meantime, I had to find one more secret Santa gift for Owen, the one I’d give to him in person at the party Friday night, the party I was going to as his fake date.
On the way home from work, I stopped by the Union Square Barnes & Noble store and found a history of espionage that sounded interesting. I was sure he’d like it, and it even made for a nice inside joke between us. I would have enjoyed it more if we weren’t playing lovers. If we couldn’t be together for real, I’d have preferred to be just friends for real. Our relationship felt as fake as Rod’s illusion, and I hated that.
My unease must have been obvious, for when I got home, Gemma asked, “What’s wrong?”
There was no way I could begin to explain it to her, but I needed to talk. “It’s that guy, the one from work.”
“Didn’t you say you were going to the office party with him?”
“Yeah, but it’s not a real date.”
“Define ‘real date.’ You’re going with him, aren’t you?”
I couldn’t get into the stuff about a company spy who’d tried stealing my nonmagical powers from me. Instead, I oversimplified the situation. “There’s this girl he works with who’s become all crazy-stalker obsessed with him. He’s too nice to be mean to her and really break her heart, but she’s not getting the message that he’s not interested. So he asked me to play girlfriend at the office party so she’d realize he wasn’t available.” It was sort of true, in a twisted, backward way.
She didn’t look like she bought it. “That’s what he told you?”
“Sort of.”
“And let’s see, this is the guy who suggests that you grab dinner on the way home and who asks you to help him with his Christmas shopping—the same one who sheltered you from the snowstorm and insisted on you staying at his place overnight?”
“In his guest room,” I reminded her. “He was a perfect gentleman.”
“And you say that this guy is extremely shy, can barely talk to people without stammering and blushing?”
“Yeah. It’s kind of cute. Most of the time, he doesn’t seem to have that problem with me, which is why I don’t think he likes me that way. I’m like his sister, someone who doesn’t fluster him.”
“Honey, I’ve got news for you. You’re being stealth-dated.”
“What?”
“He’s taking you out, so it’s like a date, but without that scary asking-you-out part. He’s managing to date you under the radar, no pressure for either of you. Next thing you know, you’ll be an established couple without ever having had an official date.”
I shook my head. “No way. For one thing, he never touches me, not even when he has an excuse to. If he was doing this stealth-dating thing, wouldn’t he manage to accidentally brush against me, or take my arm to guide me somewhere, and then not let go?”
“Hmm. It depends on the guy. He might not trust himself with you. That might be the only way he can stay comfortable with you. He might have to choose between getting physical or getting to know you, and for now he’s chosen to get to know you.”
I could certainly see that after the kiss, but he’d been that way before he had any reason to be afraid of me. I wished Gemma was right, but I was afraid she was wrong about this one. You’d think that magic would make everything easier—a flick of the wrist and you can have anything you want—but it only seemed to complicate things.
That didn’t stop me from being nearly breathless with anticipation Friday night as I finished getting dressed in my new velvet dress and my now disenchanted red shoes. Gemma helped me pin my hair up. “You look fantastic,” she said. “Even if he wasn’t really crazy about you before, he will be after he gets a good look at you.” As much as I hoped she was right about that, a part of me wished I could have kept some of the enchantment on the red shoes, at least the part that gave me confidence if not the part that would make Owen want to kiss me.
I didn’t want to subject the poor guy to my roommates, so I ran downstairs to meet him after he rang the buzzer instead of making him come up to get me. He had a cab waiting at the curb, and he was impossibly gorgeous in a classic black tuxedo. “Are you up for this?” he asked as he helped me into the cab.
“You’re the one who has the acting job,” I replied. That was supposed to be his cue to say that he didn’t have to pretend to be totally enchanted by me, but this was Owen I was dealing with, so I shouldn’t have been surprised when he didn’t give me the smooth comeback.
Instead, he said, “You’ll have some acting of your own to do.” Then he looked at me, concern in his eyes. “Don’t you?”
I sighed and hoped our cabdriver was one of the many whose English was sketchy at best. “Not that much,” I admitted. “It is coming back, but it’s still iffy. I catch things out of the corner of my eye from time to time, but I’m not a hundred percent yet.”
“That’s going to make tonight extremely interesting.” It was his typical understatement.
“Have you let the boss in on what you have planned tonight?”
“No, it’s probably best if he doesn’t know.”
I turned to stare at him in shock. “I thought you showed him the shoes, for evidence.”
“I documented the spell. There are ways of recording those things. But I believe it’s best if he’s surprised tonight. I didn’t want to risk even the slightest hint of a rumor getting out.”
“I believe I’ve found your flaw. You’re insane.”
“I have everything under control.” He sounded as calm as he usually did, but I recognized the edge under his words and shivered. Owen was usually so mild-mannered that it was easy to forget how very powerful he was—so powerful that, according to Rod, he’d actually been brought up to be shy and unassuming so he wouldn’t become a dangerous megalomaniac. I couldn’t help but wonder how much of Rod’s warning hadn’t been mere jealousy, after all.
The party was being held in the building’s soaring, cathedral-like lobby. I’d thought that was an odd place to hold a company party, but it had been transformed in the few hours since the close of business that afternoon. At any other company, it would have taken a team of decorators a week to carry out a transformation like that. At MSI, it probably took a few people a wave of a hand.
Lush green garlands hung from the balcony railings over the lobby. Tiny lights twinkled among the branches, and I had a feeling there were no cords involved. Star lights like larger versions of the ones that had been put in my office floated beneath the ceiling. The room itself was surrounded by Christmas trees, with the largest reaching almost to the roof, in the middle of the room where the doorman usually sat. Scattered among the trees were tables loaded with food and drink. A string quartet—the instruments playing themselves—sat at the top of the stairs.
“This is fantastic,” I said.
“We do some of the best decoration spells around,” Owen remarked, as he helped me out of my coat. “They’re very popular at this time of year.” He pointed to one of the smaller trees, which had the effect of snow-covered branches sparkling on a moonlit night. “That’s one of mine, something I came up with while I was still in school. Royalties from that one paid for my house, more or less.”
“It’s beautiful. Beats the heck out of the foil icicles we put on our tree back home.”
He handed our coats over to the coat check, then we put our secret Santa gifts under the huge central Christmas tree. I noticed that if I looked at some of the trees out of the corner of my eye, they disappeared or looked bare, and I was grateful that I’d been given at least a brief glimpse of their glory, even if my lack of immunity was a problem. I stood on tiptoe and whispered to Owen, “How much of this is real and how much is illusion?”
“The good ones are real. Illusion is a shortcut.”
“So I’ll still be able to see your tree when it comes back to me?”
He gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. “Yes, you will.”
“You know, this whole experience has certainly given me a new perspective on things. I may even miss some of it.”
“Let’s hope you have a chance to miss it. Is it any better?”
“It’s so gradual, it’s hard to tell.”
A short, balding man then came over to join us. I recognized Owen’s boss, Mr. Lansing, the one who was supposedly a frog. He stuck a hand out to me. “Arthur J. Lansing, director of Research and Development. I don’t believe we’ve met formally.”
Once Upon Stilettos Page 30