Page 27 of Enticing the Elf
“Pfft.” Alistair waves that off. “We did say it waslooselybased.”
Dáithí scoffs and mutters, “Yeah, loosely like they’re both a bunch of tasks.” He glances over at me and rolls his eyes, and the last of my anxiety settles.
“Okay, let’s go through this,” I declare, skimming over the list. It’s not what I expected.
“Why do two of these only say ‘redacted’?” Brandt asks before I can. “Is it a secret? Why? Most of us have the highest security clearance available. I want to know the secret.”
“They’ve been redacted because Eoin knowing what they are will impact the outcome,” Jared volunteers. “That’s all.”
I’m not sure I like the sound of that. “How am I supposed to complete them if I don’t know what they are?”
“And how are we supposed to assess his completion of them if we don’t know what they are?” Ari adds. He’s found a pen somewhere and is making notes.
“Eoin’s support team will be sent the complete list. We trust you not to betray the sanctity of your role by sharing it with him,” Caolan informs him. “All I need is the names of everyone on Eoin’s team.”
“Me,” Ari and Niamh say at the same time.
“You’re on Dáithí’s team?” Raðulfr asks Jared, who nods. “Then I’ll be on Eoin’s.”
“I’m on Eoin’s too.” Brandt rubs his hands together. “And so is Steffen.”
“What? No.”
“Yes,” Brandt insists, and when Steffen starts to protest, he adds, “I’ll tell Dustin you’re voluntarily joining in on a social activity so he stops nagging you about it.”
Steffen stops arguing so sharply, it’s as if the words were stolen from his mouth. “Fine.”
“Great!” Alistair exclaims. “Who wants Team Success wristbands?” He holds up a handful of bright pink thick rubber bands, and hands go up around the table.
I watch in disbelief as they’re passed around. “This is great for all of you, but I’m still worried about not knowing whatthose two tasks are.” What if I never even start them? I can’t do something if I don’t know about its existence.
Hagen looks me in the eye across the table. “Trust me. It’ll be fine. I’d never screw a bro over.”
He wouldn’t. Not when it comes to something this important. Stealing snack foods and almost setting the kitchen on fire, on the other hand, were things he used to do regularly.
“Dáithí means more to me than cupcakes,” I remind him, just in case.
“I know,” he replies, just as Dáithí says, “What?”
I pat his knee. “Don’t worry about it. I’d never let him steal you.”
“The list,” Noah begs. “Please, can we stick to the list?”
With one last smile for Dáithí, I turn my attention back to the handout. Fine, I’ll trust Hagen and not worry about the two redacted items. That leaves?—
“Plan and execute a series of dates,” Niamh reads. “Not gonna lie, this one’s a disappointment. Don’t they already go on dates? Along with everyone else who’s interested in romance?”
“How many dates is ‘a series’?” Ari asks.
Plan and execute. That’s the key phrase for this task. Sure, Dáithí and I go on dates—out for dinner, to bars, to other places and events that interest us. The occasional theater production, concert, or movie. Whatever we’re in the mood for at any given time. If I’m interpreting this task correctly, it isn’t that. Aside from our first date—the one that didn’t happen, and also the one to make up for it—we haven’t been on any formal dates. After that first night together, Dáithí laid down his “casual” law, and we switched gears into what we have now.
So this task is about me knowing Dáithí, his likes and dislikes, and deliberately putting something together to show that.
I think.
“That’s up to Eoin,” Andrew is saying. “More than one, obviously, but otherwise it’s completely his decision.”
I grab Ari’s pen and scrawl a note for myself. Dáithí’s a social person, but he also likes structure and routine. It’s part of what makes him so good at his job. If I planned half a dozen dates to take place over two weeks, he wouldn’t be happy.
