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Maybe the slightly more reasonable thing to do would’ve been to ask my bosshole for the day off. Instead, I’d come in early enough that I knew only maintenance staff might see that I was accompanied by an adorable little package of curly cuddles.
It also gave me time to position my bag and whatever else I could find to sort of block off the bottom of my desk. Luna was currently down there with my phone to watch and a pair of headphones. We were going on three hours, which was like three years in little kid time.
The office was buzzing with activity by now. Smartly dressed men and women zipped around the room like there were literal fires to put out on their keyboards.
And me? I was muttering answers to a little girl hiding under my desk.
“Do not move, okay?” I said.
Luna froze where she was, which caused her small frame to tip over sideways while she acted like she’d just been blasted with ice.
I grinned, then got up. It was Friday, and I’d promised myself I was going to confront Daria before the end of the week. Maybe I saved it for the absolute last minute, but I was a woman of my word, either way.
I found her at her desk in the corner of the room, which was partitioned off like everyone else’s, except mine. She turned in her chair to regard me when I walked up. I noticed her desk and partition walls were decorated with little skeletons, voodoo heads I hoped were fake, and posters for bands I didn’t recognize.
“Oh, it’s you,” she said dryly.
“Yeah, it’s me. The one you told to wear yellow to impress Damon.”
Daria’s normally flat face changed so slowly I almost didn’t realize it was happening. Her full lips were pulled up at one corner in the faintest smile. “And you bit hard on that one, didn’t you?”
I sucked in air through my nose, not even sure what to say. “Why? That’s all I want to know. Why?”
Daria considered me. “You’re right. That was mean of me. To tell you the truth, his favorite color is actually plaid. If you really want him to be nice, wear that tomorrow.”
I found myself grinning, and Daria grinned back. “Asshole,” I muttered, turning to leave.
“Gullible,” she called after me.
I got back to my desk, still not sure if I was mad at Daria or starting to like her. I tapped Luna, who was still frozen in place. “Unfreeze,” I whispered.
She blew out a breath of relief, then went back to watching her phone.
That was when Damon’s incomprehensible email came in.Tink, (not only did he still use a little pet name for me, we’d apparently moved on to a pet name within the pet name? Things were getting serious, clearly.)
I have a client coming in today and she’s lactose intolerant, glucose sensitive, and only eats food with an “identifiable history.” I want an impressive assortment of things for her to snack on while she’s here. You have an hour.DamonI stared at my screen, ignoring the fact that Luna was literally gnawing on my ankle. Sometimes I swore she was part dog, part child.
What the hell did it mean for food to have an identifiable history? Secondly, how was I going to manage to not only find that sort of thing but do it within an hour? More importantly, I also needed to do this impossible task without alerting anyone that I’d snuck my daughter into work today.
I ducked my head down below my desk so I could see Luna. She popped an earbud out and stopped gnawing on my leg long enough to look up. “Yes, Mommy?”
“If I ask one of my worker friends to watch you for a little while, can you promise to be good?”
“I’ll only be good for that one.”
Luna pointed past the box I’d set near my bag to block her off from view. I followed her little finger and saw she was pointing to a beautiful blonde woman I’d never met. I groaned.
“I don’t know that lady. I can’t trust someone I don’t know to watch you.”
“You said this place was safe.”
Damn it. Kids had a way of weaponizing your own words. Luna was a weapons expert, too. “It is safe, but it would make mommy feel better if it was someone I know keeping an eye on you.”
“Fine. I want him.”
This time, I turned around to find about six feet and four inches of bosshole standing behind me. Glorious smelling, dripping with sexuality, and fuming bosshole.
“Oh, hi,” I said.
“Hi,” Luna echoed.
I was dead. I was about to be thrown through the paneled windows to crash on the streets. If I was lucky, maybe I could pull one of those stunts from movies where I bounce off a few conveniently placed fabric overhangs.
