Chapter Eighteen
Dáithí
I’m not surprised to look up and see all four members of Team Bro gathered around my desk midafternoon on Monday. What does surprise me is that it took them this long to make an appearance.
“Oh, yay. Just who I wanted taking up my space.”
“You’re so mean,” Hagen says, but it’s not a complaint. “No wonder Eoin’s crazy about you.”
I refuse to encourage him by smiling. “Did you need something? Because last time I checked, we all work here.” If any of them tries to suggest—
“Since Brandt and the king are involved, the Summit of Love counts as work,” Alistair declares. My spray bottle is in my hand without conscious effort, and I’m spritzing water at him before he finishes speaking. “Hey!”
“Your brand of ridiculous is not going to become part of my workday. And I told you to stop calling it that!”
“But—” Caolan’s hand over his mouth stops him from saying anything else, and Hagen goes to the utility closet without being asked to get the mop. Alistair looks at it like he’s never seen one before. I didn’t spritz him that hard, so there shouldn’t be more than a few droplets on the floor.
“Is this what DEA reception is like all the time?” Andrew asks. “I love Candice, but she’s never this entertaining.”
I point the bottle in his direction, and he puts his hands up to ward me off.
“No, please. I apologize. This shirt is silk. The water…” He shudders, as though even thinking about it is painful. I’m not sure if he’s joking or not.
“Why are you wearing a silk shirt to work?” Caolan asks as Alistair takes the mop and gives the floor a few cursory swabs.
“David says work clothes should be practical.” His adoration of his boyfriend shines through the simple sentence.
It’s sweet… and also weird. David Carew is admirable, I don’t mind admitting that, and he’s definitely a hottie, but I don’t think he’s worthy of worship.
Is that a side effect of love? If Eoin and I stay together, will I one day consider him to be the ultimate authority on everything, including shirt fabrics?
“David wears polyester blend shirts,” Andrew replies with a sniff. “I don’t know where I went wrong with him.”
There’s clearly some very complex history here that only makes sense to the Earth species, and honestly, both Andrew and David have boring taste in shirts, whatever they’re made of, so I’m going to move this conversation along.
“Well, if there’s nothing you need from me—”
“We do!” Alistair cries. “We need an update. The first date was on the weekend, wasn’t it? The panel needs details in order to offer feedback, and we’re the designated representatives of the panel.” He waves a hand to encompass the four of them.
I’m never getting control of this situation back. Note to self: Be careful when asking for help; it might not end up being what you had in mind.
“What do you need to know?” It’s the fastest way to get rid of them.
They exchange glances. “You were going to a baseball game, right? You said you like baseball,” Hagen prompts.
I narrow my eyes. “You knew it wasn’t just the game, didn’t you?”
They look guilty. “Maybe.”
“Why didn’t you tell me? Do you know how close I came to not being appropriately dressed?” I plant my hands on my hips.
Alistair frowns. “But you knew it was a ball game. How could you be inappropriately dressed for a ball game? Jeans, T-shirt, maybe a hoodie and ballcap. Done.”
Sighing, Andrew shakes his head and says to me, “I’m sorry about him. He thinks clothes are to keep you warm—unless it’s a costume.”
“Huh?” The overgrown hellhound still looks confused, so I take pity on him.
“It was a luxury suite, Alistair. Some of the other guests were wearing diamonds.” Some were in jeans and tees, too, but that’s not the point. I would have felt underdressed in that.
“Oh. That sounds like a good way to make a ball game less fun.”
They all look at me expectantly, waiting to see if I agree.
I shake my head. “It was the best,” I inform them. “All the benefits of baseball with the added fun of free-flowing cocktails, food, and gossip. He showed how well he knows me.”
“So your clothes were okay after all?” Caolan asks.
My smile is involuntary. “Yes. Eoin told me to dress nice without ruining the surprise.”
“He gets points for that,” Hagen murmurs, “and for planning a date that suits your interests.”
The ball of hope that I’m no longer able to push down compels me to add, “After, we took Elsking to the park and lay in the grass under the stars.” They don’t need to know what else we did under the stars, but Eoin deserves extra points for ending our date on the perfect note.
“Aww,” Caolan says. “That’s so romantic. You don’t have a yard, do you?”
I shake my head. “No.” He and Hagen will understand how valuable time spent just lying in the grass is for me—for any elf.
“Wait.” Andrew holds up a finger. “Who’s Elsking? Do you have a child? Nobody told me that.”
“He got a pet rabbit last week, remember?” Alistair looks at me. “Elsking is the rabbit, right? There isn’t another person involved that we should know about?”
And just like that, any tolerance I was feeling flees. “Elsking is my new pet,” I confirm flatly.
“Why a rabbit?” Hagen asks. “They don’t do very much.”
Scoffing, Andrew says, “A rabbit is an excellent choice. Don’t you know how good their fur is for fiber arts?” He turns to me expectantly. “Angora, yes? What type? English produces more hair, but the fur from a Satin Angora has a much nicer finish.”
I stare at him, but thankfully, I’m not the only one. “What are you talking about?” Caolan demands. “Ang-what?”
“Fiber arts?” Alistair says. “Do you mean knitting? That’s sheep fur, Andrew.” He frowns. “Wait. Sheep… hair? Wool! Sheep wool.”
Andrew rolls his eyes. “There are many animals that produce fibers that are good for weaving and knitting,” he informs us. “Rabbits included.”
That’s something I didn’t know. Did he say angora? I have a sweater made of that—it’s super soft. I just didn’t know it was rabbit fur. “They don’t hurt the bunnies to get their hair, do they?”
“No. I believe rabbits shed fur naturally and only need to be brushed to collect it.”
The relief is almost dizzying. I couldn’t force Elsking to live in the same house as something that caused harm to one of her kind, but I really didn’t want to get rid of that sweater. It fits perfectly and looks great on me.
“Elsking isn’t that kind of rabbit,” I say firmly, though I don’t actually know that for sure. Sandra at the shelter would have said if she was, wouldn’t she? There was mention of regular brushing, but not anything about knitting with her fur. I make a mental note to check on that.
Not that I know how to knit or have any interest in learning.
“What kind—”
“We’re getting off topic,” Hagen interrupts, shooting Caolan an apologetic look. “The rabbit’s fur isn’t important. How’s Eoin with her?”
I shrug. “Good.” The memory of him taking her out of the hutch and giving her cuddles without me asking brings a smile to my face. “It’s only been a few days, but he’s good with her.”
“No resentment?”
“No.” How could Eoin resent a precious bunny? She’s the sweetest. And even if she wasn’t, he’s always been good with animals.
“It might be too soon for that to show,” Alistair muses, and I reach the end of my patience.
“You’ve got the information you came for. Go report back to the others so you can all give me your expert feedback.” I make sure to sound as sarcastic as possible.
“Before we go, we need to talk about Eoin working on reception,” Caolan says, pulling out his phone and tapping the screen.
“Ari checked his schedule, and the first possible option is a week from Thursday. He only has two meetings that day, and Ari says they can both be rescheduled. Otherwise it will need to be next month.”
“Are you asking my permission?” That would be a first.
Hagen laughs. “No, of course not. We’re letting you know as a courtesy so you’ll have time to make a list of anything essential he needs to know about the DEA specifically.
Alistair talked to Candice, and she has a training manual that she’s used to teach people the job in the past, so it’s just the personal stuff you need to worry about. ”
“Plus she said he can call her if he has problems,” Alistair adds helpfully.
I bite my lip. “That might not be a good idea. What if he struggles? Candice can’t do her job and mine. Maybe he should call me if he has problems. I can hang out in the conference room for the day.” My streaming apps work from anywhere.
The way all four of them forcefully disagree makes me lean back.
“You won’t be here that day,” Caolan says, “and we’ve told Candice to get one of the temps who cover when she has time off to come in that day. No matter what happens, both receptions will be taken care of.”
It’s a little worrying that I’m so easy to replace. “Who’s paying for that?”
“It’s coming out of the executive cost center,” Hagen assures me. “Brandt okayed it.”
“Does his majesty know?”
“Brandt okayed it. I didn’t ask any questions after that.”
That gets a laugh from me, but I decide to let it go. Eoin’s going to ask the same thing, and he’ll definitely follow up with the king to make sure he approves. The last thing either of us wants is to get fired for misappropriation of government funds.
“Fine. Thursday next week. I’ll make sure I have a cheat sheet for him before then. What am I supposed to do that day?”
“Sleep in,” Hagen suggests.
“Go for a hike,” Caolan adds.
“Play with your rabbit.” Alistair frowns. “That sounds dirty, somehow.”
For the love of… “You are never allowed near Elsking.”
“Just enjoy the time off,” Andrew cuts in before Alistair can argue. “It’s a gift from Eoin—another way he’s trying to show you how earnest he is about this.”
He’s right. “Yeah. Good point. Thank you. For… everything.” I actually mean it.
Andrew’s fangs peek out as he grins. “An excellent way to show thanks is with cake.”
“There’s some in the break room,” I tell him, and revulsion flashes across his face.
“Twinkies are not—”
“I don’t want to be part of this argument again.” It’s Alistair’s turn to cut in. He leans on the raised part of my desk and meets my gaze. “How do you think it’s going so far?”
I blink. “You mean… the challenges?”
He nods.
“Well… good, I guess. There’s only been one date, so it might be too soon to tell.”
He makes an odd sort of face, his eyebrows bouncing around. “But do you feel good about it? Like Eoin’s going to stick it out?”
The words catch in my throat, because while hope is now a permanent part of my being, saying things out loud might jinx them. “He hasn’t backed out yet.” It’s a compromise.
Alistair seems disappointed by my lack of commitment. “Does that make you happy?”
Yes. Again, the word sticks, but it must show on my face, because they all break out in smiles.