His assistant gave him a long, knowing look. “Rescheduling more appointments? Nice of you to take such a keen interest in your employees like that.”
“It’s not keen interest! She was put under mind control an hour ago. My number one priority should be to prepare her with the skills she needs to handle…” But Henry trailed off as the lights in the office began to flicker.
He frowned up at the light fixtures. Odd. As quickly as it started, it stopped.
“You could always work after hours with her. You know, when it’s nice and quiet here,” Rick said in a stage whisper.
Henry ignored what Rick was implying. “Unless it’s an absolute emergency, reschedule all of my appointments this week and next week. You’ve already stopped accepting new mortal clients, right?”
Rick scratched his jaw like he was pretending to mind his own business. “Two weeks seems like an awful long time for such intensive one-on-one training. Does this mean you want the firm to only handle criminal defense now?”
“Of course not, and I don’t appreciate the smarmy tone. I’m doing what’s best for this practice right now,” he said, perhaps a touch defensively. “Anyway, I’m going to sit in with Emma on this next client to make sure she’s all right. This Ms. Pennington is a supernat?”
“Yes…?”
The lights flickered again. The building went completely dark. Then lit again. SMASH! Glass shattered against the floor in Emma’s office. A scream. Henry’s eyes widened. The door flew open. Ms. Grace Pennington, an ephemeral pale ghost, shot out of Emma’s office. Emma ran out and right through the ghost to get to him. He could hear her heartbeat hammering. He resisted the urge to sigh.
“Henry, there’s something wrong,” she whispered frantically.
Ms. Grace Pennington harrumphed at Henry. “Are you Mr. de Daumier-Smith?”
When he confirmed that indeed he was, she continued. “Well, I never! Your colleague is incredibly rude. She’s been ignoring me ever since our appointment began. I don’t know what kind of business you’re running here, but it seems highly suspect.”
Emma eyed the light fixtures in the ceiling warily. She glanced at Rick and Henry for support.
“Ms. Pennington, I apologize sincerely. I think there’s been some confusion,” Henry said, adopting his most cordial tone.
The ghost’s form vibrated angrily. “I’ve been waiting twenty minutes, and when she finally shows up, she doesn’t address me. She doesn’t even try to help me.”
Emma’s hands were shaking. “Henry, who the hell are you talking to? And why are water glasses levitating and smashing on the floor? Rick, is this you?” She looked at him accusingly.
Ms. Pennington raised one ethereal hand to her mouth and gasped in outrage. Oh boy. This wasn’t good. Henry pointed at the ghost.
“You can’t see her,” he told Emma.
She raised her arms helplessly. “See who?”
“Emma. Your client, Ms. Pennington, is a ghost.”
She started to laugh but stopped short when she realized he was serious. Ms. Pennington bristled, and the air crackled with energy. The lights flickered again. Emma turned in the opposite direction from where the ghost was floating and spoke to the empty space.
“Ms. Pennington, I sincerely apologize. I honestly wasn’t trying to ignore you. I’ve only just started here, and I still have a lot to learn about the supernatural world.”
The ghost snorted. Henry was surprised that she was laughing, but it was preferable to her shrieking and breaking things. Emma glanced at Henry, but he shook his head at her.
“Emma, it’s okay. That’s not where she’s hovering anyway. Ms. Pennington, I hadn’t realized Ms. Parker here couldn’t see you, though it makes me wonder why my assistant could.”
Henry narrowed his eyes at Rick, who suddenly found the floor very interesting. Mortals couldn’t usually see ghosts, which was why ghosts often resorted to manifesting their energies in physical objects. If Rick could see her, then that meant there was something he wasn’t telling him. Unfortunately, that particular interrogation would have to wait. Ms. Pennington pursed her lips and floated so close to him, he could feel the cold air emanating from the spirit.
“Mr. de Daumier-Smith, I was under the impression your firm would be able to help me. If you and your staff are as disorganized and unprofessional as you appear to be, I’m afraid you won’t be of much use to me. Thank you, but I’ll be taking my business elsewhere.”
Henry thought about asking her exactly where else she planned on going but knew that line of questioning wouldn’t end well. The ghost tossed her shoulders back and let her long, ethereal hair flutter behind her as she floated away. On her way out, she passed directly through Emma and disappeared through the front door. Emma froze, looked down at her body, and shuddered. Once alone, Emma stared at him and Rick.
“Did that bitch just fly through me?” she demanded.
“She did.” Rick left his desk and approached her with remorse etched across his features. “I’m so sorry, Emma. I thought you would be able to see her.”
“It’s fine,” she said tersely then immediately fell silent. She bore a hole into the floor with her gaze.
Henry pursed his lips. If they didn’t turn things around fast, this whole madcap idea would collapse beneath them. Henry walked over to Emma and lightly cupped her elbow with his hand.
“Let’s talk in your office,” he said.
He waited for her to nod before ushering her into the other room. Over his shoulder, he called to Rick, “Hold calls and appointments until we’re done.”
***
Emma slid into her swivel chair and forced herself not to slump churlishly, because she was close to panicking. Her goody two-shoes instinct kicked in. Was he going to fire her? She’d never been fired—not ever. What a joke. Big Law had been like swimming with sharks in suits. This was like trying to find her way out of an M.C. Escher drawing. She was trying her best, but obviously that wasn’t good enough. She’d never thought being mortal would be a knock against her. Maybe she should cut her losses and quit? Supernats didn’t trust outsiders. Not like she could fault them, considering what they were trying to hide from the world.
Emma put her hands in her lap and kept her face bland. If he was going to fire her, she didn’t want to show any sign of weakness.
Henry took a seat on the leather couch, clasped his hands, and stared at the carpet a moment. Here it came.
“This isn’t working,” he said.
Her eyes widened, and her pulse sped up.
He jerked his head up and raised his hands in a defensive posture. “I’m not firing you. Sorry. I meant handing the reins over to you while I work with my mortal clients isn’t working. I think you’re going to need some training and more intensive short-term supervision. If you don’t mind, I’d like to sit in on all your client meetings for the next couple of weeks, regardless of whether they ask for me or not.” When her mouth fell open in surprise, he was quick to assure her, “It’s not you. I want to do what I can to convince them to trust you.”
Emma slowly expelled a breath, her shoulders relaxing a fraction. “That sounds good.” It was better than losing the job, but he definitely wanted her on training wheels… Wait, how had he—?
“Are you reading my mind?” She couldn’t handle more supernats trying to control her.
Henry shook his head and frowned. “That would be highly improper and a gross invasion of privacy.” He looked down. “But it is a little hard to ignore a racing pulse. I made the logical conclusion.”
As the word “pulse” slipped off his tongue, she wondered in horror if he could hear or smell or otherwise intuit when she was thinking…unprofessional…thoughts about him. She might never recover from the mortification. In the interest of self-preservation, she pushed all thoughts on his physical appearance into a cardboard box and kicked it out of her head. Henry loosened his necktie a little. No, not the sexy tie-tug! She blinked once, slowly.
&nb
sp; Focus, Emma.
She cleared her throat and said, “I completely understand. How are you going to convince them they can trust me?”
He raised an open hand. “Well, we’re going to have to show them you can fit in.”
Emma tilted her head in question.
His eyes were grave as he said, “We’re going to have to hobnob.”
She leaned back in her chair. “I beg your pardon?”
“Think of it as a campaign tour, but instead of glad-handing and baby kissing, you’ll have to do shots and trade insults with them.”
She frowned. Wasn’t this the same guy who had explicitly hired her so he could be left alone? What happened to “paper, not people”?
“Since you’re working for me, I should’ve given you a proper introduction to the Underworld.”
She laughed. “That’s not your job. It should’ve been Daphne’s.”
“Well, right, but now that I know you plan to stick around—” He stopped short. “You are planning on sticking around, right?”
Emma gave him a wry look. “Henry, I’m not going back to the hell that is job hunting.”
He relaxed his shoulders a bit, apparently relieved. “Since you are sticking around, we need to make it clear you know what you’re doing. And I need to show you what the Tucson Underworld is like. Granted, it might be a bit of the blind leading the blind. It’s been years since I’ve mingled.”
“You really think this will make them stop demanding to see you?”
He glanced at the ceiling. “We want to create buzz. They need to start talking about you instead of dismissing you. Besides, didn’t you say something last week about Wendell needing a supernat therapist? We can ask around and see if we can get a name for him.”
“He got a disorderly conduct charge a couple of weeks ago because he was drunkenly wandering around his neighborhood in human form howling at the moon.” She tried to keep a straight face, but a laugh broke out of her.
Henry rubbed his temples but couldn’t help laughing either. “I guess that might be considered ‘unreasonable noise.’”
With a proud gleam in her eye, she said, “I got Abernathy to dismiss it because I argued the coyotes that pop up downtown are equally obnoxious.” Guilt nagged at her for laughing about it. She knew Wendell was having a rough time. “But yes, I do want to find and suggest a therapist to him. I don’t think his wolf pack is as helpful for him as he claims it is.”
He clapped his hands together. “Perfect, then it’s a deal.”
She hesitated again. “Isn’t it a little excessive? Won’t they get used to me in another month or two?” The idea of trying to be the center of attention for an entire evening seemed desperate and pathetic. Not to mention that hanging out with Henry for a night of partying was risky. With a few drinks in her system, she was in grave danger of pulling him close for a kiss.
He scoffed. “Are you sure you worked at Keith and Heller? ‘Maybe my clients will get used to me before I lose all their business’ is horrible business acumen. Not to mention the fact that it’s already been a month, and it’s only gotten worse.”
Emma felt her face burn red. “Sorry, I thought this position would be more straightforward, albeit hectic. Now I need to convince a bunch of random people I’m worth trusting. I’m smart, but I suck at parties.”
“All we need to do is find a way to market you so that you become a better commodity to them than I am. Make it clear you want to and can help them.”
An idea sparked and unfurled in her head. “Would it help if I had a hype man? From what I can tell, my sister hangs out with a lot of alternative types. I can ask her to start planting seeds for me. She’s the social butterfly of the family.” And she had the wings to prove it.
A smile curved the ends of his lips. “I’ll get Rick to talk you up too. He can be a very charming salesman when he wants to be.”
The door flew open to reveal a grinning Rick, who apparently had zero qualms about eavesdropping. “It’s what I do best. I guarantee it,” he assured them.
Henry’s lips thinned, but he said nothing. Rick clapped his hands together once, and his grin widened.
“Where and when do you want me to go?” he asked with such zeal that Emma had to laugh.
Despite the chaos of the past few days, Rick’s sense of humor made it hard to be too self-pitying.
“Let’s go tomorrow night,” Henry decided. “It’ll be the start of the weekend, so more people will be out. We’ll head out at ten-thirty. Rick, start at ten and find a way to pop into places on Fourth Ave. Then make your way over to Hotel Congress. Sound good?”
“Not a problem. I’ve got an in.”
Emma smiled, enjoying being proactive instead of waiting at the office and constantly being on the defensive…even if it did mean having to put herself on display.
“I’ll call Grant, too,” Henry added.
At Emma’s confused look, he answered, “He’s a friend. More into nightlife than I am. He should be helpful with recommending good spots and greasing the wheels.”
“That’s a solid plan,” Rick said. He snapped his fingers twice before a small cardboard box appeared in the palm of one hand.
Emma started at the sudden movement.
“Which reminds me,” Rick continued. “Seems I ordered these just in time.” He set the box down on Emma’s desk.
Puzzled, she picked it up and opened it. She had to smile. Her own business cards. These were way better than the ones she’d had at Keith and Heller. The design was nearly identical to the sleek one Henry had given her the day she’d met him. It had the same textured linen paper, the same logo, and the same clean lines. The only differences were her name, title, and the back of the card. Sure enough, Rick had designed one fancy coupon on the back. No bright neon colors. Only simple, clean text that advertised a discount for referrals. She looked up at Rick and grinned.
“These are perfect, thank you. Henry, you should see these.”
She went to the couch to hand him a card. He slowly pulled it from between her fingers, the textured finish tickling her skin. The back of her neck tingled. He examined the card and smirked.
“Well done. You know how I feel about coupons, but these will come in handy,” he said and gave the card back to her.
Emma was careful not to brush her fingers against his and slipped the business card back in the cardboard box with the rest.
“I’m sorry it had to come to a full-on promotional campaign, but I look forward to learning more about the Underworld,” Emma admitted.
Henry rested an ankle on his opposite knee and shook his head. “It’s still a bit of the Wild West out here, so we don’t have a governing body to tell us specifically how to handle mortals. In the interest of self-preservation, we tend to avoid you types.” He pointed back and forth between Emma and Rick.
Emma rolled her eyes. “Yeah, it seems like they’re kind of bad at that if they keep getting arrested.”
“I have my own theory on that,” Rick chimed in. “They can’t seem to make up their minds about how they feel toward mortals, but I’m wondering if some are consciously or unconsciously becoming self-destructive because they want to have a coming-out party. Maybe they don’t want to hide anymore.”
Emma blew out a breath. “I don’t think I can imagine the level of chaos that would cause.”
They all fell silent for a long moment. Then the phones rang. Rick excused himself to get back to his desk, leaving Henry and Emma alone. She looked at him lounging comfortably on the couch and wondered what she might do if she were to join him.
Instead, she asked, “If things are a bit dicey between me and our clients right now, what would you like me to work on between now and tomorrow night’s…excursion?” The evening’s plans sounded perilously close to a date, but no way in hell would she call it that.
Henry stared at her while he thought, which was straight up unnerving. She focused on the wall behind him to keep her face placid and neutral.
>
“Do you have court tomorrow?”
“An arraignment, but it’s mostly client meetings here. Oh, I do need to get to the jail to see a client, though.”
He canted his head, considering her words. “Go to court and the jail, for sure. I’ll sit in on your client meetings. If you’ve got downtime, you can focus on research. I know you’ve already investigated vampires a fair amount—especially their weaknesses.” He gave her a mockingly sour look. “But keep researching folklore on other so-called mythical creatures. I can tell you fact from fiction tomorrow night. If you get bored with that, you can also brush up on your criminal law more. We’ve got Abernathy on our side for now, but I’ve honestly no idea how long I can keep that deal going.”
Emma interlaced her fingers and rested them on her desk. She grimaced when it wobbled a little. “Thanks, can do.”
She might also continue the policy scribblings she’d started the other day…
Henry rose and went to the doorway. He stopped and turned back toward her. “Tomorrow night will be good. Should help things. It’ll be dark, but I’m not that scary.” He grinned and flashed his fangs briefly before disappearing from her office.
Emma stared after him, dismayed. What just happened? That was exactly the problem. He was becoming more sexy than scary. She couldn’t tell for sure if he was interested in her. It seemed like he was always saying playful things in low tones.
No, there was no way. He seemed to have an odd thing for propriety and essentially lived at work. He was always here when she arrived and after she left. Even if he was being a bit charming, he wouldn’t want to mix lust in with a professional situation. Her brain was stupid when it came to choosing men to be attracted to—that’s all this was. She puffed out her cheeks and then smashed them flat with her hands. Men who could kill or fire you in an instant should not be that enticing.
***
It was dark out, and Emma and Rick had long since left the office, so Henry told himself to stop working. He pulled off his blazer and kicked open his bedroom door. As he unshackled himself from workwear, he remembered he should get in touch with Grant to discuss tomorrow night. Pulling out his cell phone, he found Grant’s number and called. Texting…was not for him. Frowning when his friend didn’t answer, he left a stilted message that was much longer than necessary.
Destiny Page 33