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“And that means you’re actually putting together a one-on-one surveillance program,” he concluded. “I like it.”
“But it’s also going to make people feel good once they start getting surprises, and since they won’t know who’s giving them treats, they might be motivated to be a little nicer to everyone.”
He made a note on the pad by his computer. “Isabel and I will take care of matching up names and getting the instructions out there. I take it you want to do this throughout the month?”
“Yeah. And then is there a big company holiday party?”
“Yes. It’s quite the to-do. We haven’t exchanged gifts before, but we could do a gift exchange where the identities of the secret Santas are revealed. That would even work as an icebreaker.” He made another note, then gave me a wicked grin that nearly made me swoon. I forced myself to imagine his bedpost, riddled with notches from women who’d fallen under his spell—literally—and to remember his status on my suspect list. “We don’t have to assign people truly randomly, do we? We can act like it’s random, but we can match up people who need to get over some personal issues.”
“I wouldn’t go so far as to match up sworn enemies,” I cautioned. “Then it can get ugly. It works best with people who don’t know each other all that well. It forces them to get to know each other.”
“Good thinking. Any other ideas?”
“That’s my most immediate one, and the one I think that’ll be easiest to implement. We should probably also do some team-building activities, something that brings a group of people together from various departments to solve problems.”
He smiled, and my heart rate increased. “This is taking me back to my days in business school when I was studying human resources. I never thought I’d implement any of that at a company like this. Give me a chance to see what I can come up with, okay?” There was a fresh gleam in his eye. It might have been part of the illusion, but I suspected it had more to do with him finally feeling useful and relevant in the grand scheme of things.
He should feel grateful for that, I thought. So grateful, maybe, that he’d feel the need to thank me in very interesting ways. I had a few suggestions, in case he couldn’t think of anything. I cleared my throat to drop a hint, then caught myself. I didn’t want to get involved with anyone who could date twenty different women in a month. “So, I guess that’s everything we needed to talk about,” I said, the words spilling out of me in a rush as I pushed myself out of my chair. “E-mail me when you get some ideas.” I fled his office before he could say anything else.
My mental to-do list was growing longer by the minute. I needed to figure out why I wasn’t immune anymore and how to reverse it, if such a thing was possible. I needed to find our spy. I needed to find out why Hertwick had been in Central Park the other day during business hours and if it had anything to do with the things I was investigating.
I passed a man banging furiously on a shut door. “I’m supposed to be in that meeting, damn it!” he shouted as he rattled the doorknob. “Open the door or I’ll blow a hole in the wall. I’m not a spy!”
Oh yeah, and I had to help ratchet down the paranoia level in the company. That would have been a lot easier if I didn’t have very good reason to be paranoid myself. It was hard not to feel hunted when Idris and his henchmen kept showing up and my immunity was on the fritz.
Suddenly a horrible idea came to me. The way Rod had looked at me—had he known my secret? I hadn’t ruled him out as the spy, but what if he was also the one who’d found a way to remove my immunity? After all, he’d been there when I realized for the first time that my immunity was gone. Come to think of it, what was he doing heading to the office on a Saturday afternoon during a holiday weekend? If he’d tampered with my immunity somehow, he’d be able to influence me and distract me from my mission. I made a mental note to look into this and see what the chances were that he’d had anything to do with the break-in. But first, I had another errand to take care of while I was out and about.
I made a detour to the sales department and found Hertwick in his office. As soon as I appeared in the doorway, he became uncharacteristically bashful. “You want to know why I was in the park, right?” he said gruffly, looking like a schoolboy being called on the carpet for dropping cherry bombs in the toilets. “I bet that looked pretty suspicious to you, huh?”
“Yeah, it did. But these days, everything looks suspicious.”
“I was taking a break.”
“A break?”
“If you had a meeting out of the office, and nothing pressing waiting for you, you’d maybe stop off at Starbucks for a latte on the way back, wouldn’t you? You know, give yourself a break, something to boost you through the next couple of hours, right?”
I probably wouldn’t, because I was too frugal to buy designer coffee, but I knew what he meant. “Yeah.”
“So, for my people, digging in the dirt is like a double latte with that chocolate stuff sprinkled on top. We weren’t made for working in offices.”
“Why do you?” I couldn’t help but ask.
He reddened, and for a brief moment he looked more cute than gruff. “Because I’m probably the one gnome in all creation with a brown thumb. I love digging in the dirt, but everything I touch dies.”
I bit my tongue to keep myself from laughing. He probably didn’t think it was all that funny. “Okay, sounds reasonable,” I said.
“So you don’t suspect me of spying?”
“Not unless you give me any other reason to think you’re a spy.” I couldn’t help but believe him. I doubted he’d admit to something so embarrassing if it weren’t true. If he’d been lying, he would have come up with a better story.
That was one item checked off my list. Only three major things to go. Then I remembered one more item to add: knock Ethan’s socks off at lunch the next day so I could look forward to a truly hot weekend.
I got up early the next morning to get ready for work in the sexy but still-business-appropriate outfit Gemma and Marcia helped me plan. As I finished dressing, I gave my new shoe box a quick pat for luck. I might not be wearing the red shoes to work, but I hoped I could carry their aura with me into the day.
As soon as I entered the office suite, Trix gave a low whistle. “My, don’t you look hot!” she said, fanning herself. “You wouldn’t happen to be meeting a certain lawyer for lunch, would you?”
“Maybe.” I tried for an enigmatic expression, but failed utterly, breaking out into a grin. “Actually, he’s supposed to come by here at noon to pick me up.”
