Page 5 of Tattle Tail
“I need you,”the message read.
Him. Joseph.
“You do not,”she replied, tapping on the screen a touch harder than necessary.
“The blue shirt or the green? I have a hot date.”He sent a series of unnecessary fire symbols, and then eventually, the image of two shirts.
On her desk.
“Get out of my office,”she wrote, not appreciating him disturbing her space or the pangs of jealousy over thehot date.
The reply came instantly.“Is that how you talk to your boss?”
“You are not my boss.”
“My sister married your boss, which makes me your boss, in a way.”
“Incorrect. It makes you a parasite.”
Three dots bounced on the screen. He was writing a reply, but it took longer than his normal instant response, bleating out whatever thought entered his head. Apparently, he was flummoxed.
This pleased her.
Peaceable clutched the comm unit in her hand and looked around the busy restaurant, dismayed at the obvious expense of the place. This was the kind of establishment that did not feel the need to list a price on the menu. Exactly the sort of place her mother loved and the sort that made Peaceable’s bank account weep.
Her mother told her this was a casual meal and that her regular work wardrobe would be acceptable. They had very different opinions oncasual.
Peaceable tugged on the front of her blouse, wishing she had worn something that did not wrinkle so easily. Too late now.
Across the room, she saw Lord Resolve, but not her mother.
Oh no.
This was a setup. Her mother swore it wasn’t, but there sat Lord Resolve at the table. Alone. Looking particularly distinguished in a fine, tailored suit.
She took a step back, ready to flee.
Seeming to sense her presence, Lord Resolve looked up from the paper menu. His gaze immediately landed on her. The older male cut a striking figure. Silver streaked his hair, and his stripes had faded with age on his face. The signs of maturity gave him an air of experience and vitality.
No one could claim that Lord Resolve was not a handsome male. If Peaceable had to describe her ideal partner, she’d describe someone who shared those qualities with Lord Resolve but was notactuallyLord Resolve.
Peaceable’s tail stilled, keeping close to her legs, as she approached the table. He rose, his tail lazily waving behind him, and embraced her in greeting.
She stood stiffly, unsure how to extricate herself from this mess.
“I thought my mother wished to discuss plans for the New Year’s party,” she said, her voice a tad louder than intended.
As she sat down, the comm unit vibrated again with another message. She looked without thinking and regretted her choice.
Joseph sent a photo of himself—shirtless, because of course he took his shirt off—holding up the blue shirt with a confused expression on his face.
Which was just his normal face.
She flipped the comm unit over, screen side down.
“Tolerance did not tell you?” Lord Resolve asked. “She is unable to come.”
“She did not.” Setup or not, her mother changing plans at the last moment was typical.
