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As I approached the restaurant I caught a glimpse of Sam perched on an awning and relaxed. Sam might tease me later, but he made a good bodyguard.
Ethan was waiting in front. He smiled when he saw me, which I took as a good sign, for it meant he really did remember which one I was. He was taller than I recalled.
When I got closer to him and shook his hand, the top of my head barely reached his shoulder, and I was wearing heels. "I hope I didn't keep you waiting long," I said.
"You're right on time. I managed to get away earlier than I expected."
He was right that the place was nothing fancy, just a nice little casual restaurant, but it was warm and cozy, and we didn't have to wait for a table. He helped me out of my jacket, then hung it and his coat on the hook over our booth. We made the usual small talk while studying the menu, then ordered burgers and fries. I liked the idea of someone who didn't feel the need to put on the dog on a first date, who could just go someplace comfortable. Even if this didn't work out in a business sense, maybe there would be other benefits after all.
After we'd ordered, I decided it was time to get to work. "You said you worked in intellectual property law, right?"
He smiled. "Wow. You really were paying attention. I thought I'd bored everyone to tears. I was such an enthralling conversationalist that night that my date never wanted to see me again."
"You weren't that bad. I actually found it interesting. How often does that really happen, though, where an employee tries to take what they've done at a company somewhere else?" It was the best I could come up with to get him talking, short of trying to convince him that legal talk made me hot and bothered.
"It depends on the industry. We see it a lot in software. There's a lot of job-hopping, and people take bits of code with them. But then there's always the argument that they're just applying things they've learned, not using anything they actually developed. There've been attempts to come up with noncompete clauses, where people can't go to work for their company's direct competitor for a certain amount of time after leaving, but that often gets struck down as unfair restraint of trade." The waitress brought our drinks, and he used that as an opportunity to change the subject. "Enough about me," he said. "What do you do? I don't think it came up that last time. I was too busy droning on about my work."
"My work isn't nearly as interesting as yours. I'm a secretary. That's about it." I stuck to my most boring job description, hoping he wouldn't ask me more questions.
"Oh, I don't know, I bet your life can get pretty interesting, depending on your boss."
"I have a good boss, so no real horror stories. Not even any funny ones. Sorry."
His eyes narrowed, and I wondered if I'd overplayed the boring angle. He probably felt much like I had with my date the night we'd met, desperately trying to keep the conversation going without much help. But then I realized he wasn't frowning at me.
He was sitting facing the restaurant entrance, and he was frowning at the doorway.
"What is it?" I asked.
He shook his head like he was trying to clear it, frowned again, took off his glasses, rubbed his eyes, polished his glasses, then put them back on, blinked, and frowned once more. "Nothing. I just thought I saw something weird, out of the corner of my eye." He gave a nervous laugh. "It's been a long week. And I'd better stick to one beer tonight."
I turned around and saw Trix and her sprite park ranger—in civilian clothes tonight—standing in the doorway, waiting for a waiter to show them to a table. I turned back around to face him, a queasy feeling forming in my stomach. I'd never seen what their masking illusion looked like, but I'd never seen anyone else react this way to seeing them. Anyone, that is, but me. I remembered that he'd cleaned his glasses that first night when the fairies had come in to the restaurant. Could I have found another immune? "What did you think you saw?" I asked cautiously, trying to sound casually curious even though my heart had migrated to my throat.
"Nothing," he insisted, but I stared at him until he sighed and said, "There's a trick of the light that makes those people look like they've got wings. But I only saw it for a second." He sounded more like he was trying to convince himself than convince me.
Yep, I recognized that symptom. "Could you excuse me for a second?" I asked.
I slid out of the booth, then gave Trix a meaningful glance as I passed the table where she and her date had been seated. The rest-rooms were downstairs, which would make a quick powwow easier.
Trix joined me less than a minute later. "What's up?" she asked. "This date seems to be going better than your last one."
"The frog guy hasn't shown up, but the night is still young. And let me guess, you and Ranger Bob are my designated bodyguards for the evening."
She giggled, which sounded rather like jingle bells. "Ranger Pippin, actually."
"Are you two masked tonight—I mean, would most people see you as human?"
"Of course. It's second nature away from work."
"Well, then, I may have just found another immune. My date saw you. He thinks he's going crazy because he's seeing people with wings."
She gasped. "Oh, boy."
"So, what do I do? How do I handle this? He's that intellectual property attorney I mentioned. Do I just tell him right out that magic is real, or do I talk him into coming to the office for a consultation, and then let Mr. Mervyn and the others give him the orientation?"
She shook her head. "Don't tell him anything until we're sure what he is. We'll need to put him through a few tests, and then we can approach him." I remembered the weirdness that morning on the subway when they'd tested me, and had a sinking feeling that I was about to have the kind of evening where Naked Frog Guy showing up with his guitar would serve as a nice dose of comic relief.
She took a cell phone out of her purse, dialed, then said, "It's Trix. Katie needs to talk to you."
