Page 18 of Enticing the Elf
CHAPTER EIGHT
Dáithí
When I askedJared and Noah for help, I had no idea what I was getting into. Even though I agreed to their suggestion of finding “experts,” I didn’t think I’d end up in the boardroom after hours with a hellhound waving a whiteboard marker at me.
Meh. There are worse things.
I do a quick tally of who’s here: Jared, looking surprisingly smug, Noah and his husband, Andrew, Caolan, Hagen—I give him a narrow-eyed warning glare. I’ve had to deal with his chaos before—and Alistair, who I also glare at. Everyone in the building knows Alistair. He throws a great party, but for those of us trying to run an office, he’s trouble.
Noah was right about bringing these guys in on this. Team Bro, as they call themselves, has the perfect skill set for a job like this. Let’s just hope they understand the objective.
Nervous hope flutters in my chest, and I ruthlessly shred it. There will be no hoping. Maybe—possibly—there’s a tiny chance that Eoin will pass whatever test Team Bro devises. It’s far more likely that I’m right and he’ll lose interest or decide he’s ready to move on instead. Letting myself hope now is only going to make it hurt more when that happens, and the whole point of this is to prevent that hurt.
Alistair finishes writing “The True Love Challenge” on the whiteboard and puts the marker down so he can clap his hands. “Settle down! We have a lot to get through tonight.”
“We’ve been waiting for you,” Noah points out.
Ignoring him, Alistair continues, “On behalf of Team Bro, I’d like to thank Dáithí for including us in this endeavor. We appreciate the trust you’re placing in us for this vitally important task.” He smiles at me.
“Uh… yes. You come highly recommended. And I’ve seen examples of your work.” That must be the right thing to say, because all four “bros” sit up straighter. “I want to be clear, though, that no glitter will be involved.” I love me some sparkle just as much as the next guy, but I can’t think of any situation when glitter will be needed to test Eoin’s capacity for commitment. Plus, that shit is impossible to clean up, and the last thing I need when this is over and I’m recovering from a bruised heart is to be finding glitter everywhere.
Alistair sighs, and Hagen shakes his head. “Of course there won’t be any glitter,” he says. “We know how to assess when it’s event-appropriate.”
“Do you, though?” Noah asks, and thinking back on the number of times they’ve brought glitter to the CSG and DEA offices, I have to agree with him.
Hagen opens his mouth, but closes it again when Caolan elbows him and says, “We’re wasting time. This discussion isn’t an efficient use of our resources. Al, bro, sorry, but I’m canceling the rest of your speech and moving to the next item on the agenda.”
Jared leans toward me and murmurs, “Do you have a copy of the agenda? I didn’t get one.”
I can only shake my head, too shocked by the knowledge that there’s an agenda—that’s apparently broken down by time increments—to speak.
“I understand,” Alistair says, joining us at the table and taking a seat.
“Am I dreaming?” Noah asks. “What is happening here?”
Andrew kisses his cheek and pats his arm. “Caolan is Team Bro’s coordinator. He learned a lot from David about task management and planning. How else do you think we manage to pull off such perfectly executed activities?”
The temptation to laugh is so strong that I bite my lip. I know David Carew, Caolan’s boyfriend, well enough to know he’d be horrified if he found out he’d inadvertently helped with Team Bro’s shenanigans.
“Please turn your attention to the screen,” Caolan orders, and the wall monitor beside the whiteboard comes to life. “We didn’t have a great deal of time for preparation, but we’ve pulled together some basic background. Tonight’s decisions will shape the direction of further research.”
“This is incredible.” Jared sounds impressed. “It’s only been a few hours.”
“This is overkill,” I counter, staring at the split screen showing photos and short bios of me and Eoin. “You don’t need—” The screen changes to a dot-pointed list headed by the title “The Situationship.” It’s a summary of what’s happened since Eoin and I started dating.
“That’s such a stupid word,” Noah declares. “Situationship? Really?”
“Meh.” I consider. “It kind of fits. But none of this is necessary.”
“Of course it is,” Caolan insists. “How can we devise a plan without any background?”
Maybe he’s right. I’ve spent the past year flying by the seat of my pants, hoping that Eoin would stay interested and yet not letting myself get too invested in preparation for the day his interest wanes. My big plan this week, when I realizedthat strategy wasn’t working anymore, was to end things before either of us could get seriously hurt.
Clearly, that didn’t happen.
Instead, I agreed to give him the chance to prove himself, and somehow ended up here, with Team Bro giving a very professional-looking presentation. Maybe their plan is going to be better than my lack of one.
“Okay.” I sit back. “We’ll do it your way.”
