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Ava refuses to leave it alone. “Do you want me to at least email you the X-ray? Or send it to him perhaps?”
I round on her. “Do that, and I’ll smother you in your sleep.”
Her eyes gleam with mischief. “So you like him a lot.”
“Hush!” I hiss, cutting my eyes toward the door. “What if he’s eavesdropping?”
She dramatically fans herself. “What a scandal.”
I finish dressing and come toward her. Leaning in, I whisper, “Did he say anything about me when I was getting that X-ray?”
“Depends what you mean. He basically outlined the app solution and asked if that’s safer than what a doctor would’ve done. No declarations of undying love, though.”
“Well, good,” I say, hiding my disappointment. “Let’s go.”
I stride out of the room, Ava on my heels.
The Impaler’s deep blue eyes zero in on my face. “Did it work?”
The redness that had managed to leave my cheeks during the squirrel removal procedure returns with a vengeance. “All good. The hardware is toast, though. I hope the Belka people can provide another.”
“Don’t worry about any of that.” He adjusts his horn-rimmed glasses—a theoretically unsexy gesture that his fingers somehow turn erotic. “How do you feel?”
“Like getting Exit Only tattooed on my left butt cheek,” I blurt, then redden painfully.
His expression is unreadable, his demeanor as aloof as ever. Ava, however, looks positively gleeful. “Make that a tramp stamp.”
I glare at her.
“Actually, that might not work as intended,” the Impaler says, his tone utterly serious. “Some may take it as a challenge.”
Oh. My. God. Does he realize what he just said?
Ava makes a choking sound as I hustle to the elevator, determined to hide my flaming face.
We ride down in silence, and as I stare at the Impaler’s implacable face, a new worry invades my mind.
What happens now that the squirrel is out of me, and the emergency is over?
Am I about to lose my job?
Chapter Eight
I try to parse that indecipherable expression of his.
Is he angry about what happened? Is that why he told me not to worry about any of it? Are my days of testing toys—or anything—over?
It’s possible. I doubt any other employee has interrupted his day like this, and made him drive them to the hospital.
Then again, my snafu did help locate a possible bug in his code, so that’s something. Unless he’s like Britney—touchy about the flaws in his app.
Oh, well. Even if he does want to fire me, I bet he wouldn’t do that right after I’ve been rushed to a hospital—it wouldn’t look so good if I decided to sue.
Which I wouldn’t, but he doesn’t know that.
The elevator doors slide open.
“See you,” Ava says to me when we exit. Turning to the Impaler, she adds, “Thanks for taking care of her. Nice to have met you.”
