Page 60 of Enticing the Elf
If people are going to fuck around, they’re going to find out.
“Just fucking dowhat you’re supposed to, you motherfucking piece of shit!” My shout bounces off the walls of the small room, and the very young marketing assistant who asked for my help slowly backs toward the door. I suck in a deep breath—something I’ve done too many times already in the past hour and fourteen minutes—and resist the urge to kick the damn printer. I’m pretty sure it won’t help.
It would make me feel better, though.
I’m on deep breath number three before I manage to calm down enough to paste on a smile… though from the look on the marketing assistant’s face, it’s more of a grimace. “Just leave it with me,” I promise them. “You said you needed the reports for a meeting this afternoon, right?”
Wide-eyed, they nod.
“Great! Come back at noon, and they’ll be ready for you.” I’m not sure how convinced they are, but they manage to squeak a thank-you before racing away. I go back to the reception desk, where there are now even more fucking incoming call lights on the phone, plus three people waiting. I must’ve talked to fifty people already today, and it’s not even ten yet. How am I supposed to get the things on the list done?
Ignoring the phones—the calls go into a hold queue if they’re not answered immediately—I look at the first person waiting. “Welcome to the DEA.” My voice is a lot less welcoming than Dáithí’s usually is, but I can’t help that right now. “How can I help you?”
“I’ve got an appointment with Asha Carse. I’m Kari Pelen.” She smiles, and the smile I give in return is a lot more natural this time, thanks to the magic Steffen worked with the meeting schedule and visitor list. Her name is right where it’s supposed to be, with all the relevant information attached, as is the name of the man next in line. I tell them both to have a seat, send messages to let the respective employees know, then turn my attention to the third person. A delivery guy—what a relief. Finally something easy to handle.
“Need me to sign for that?” I nod toward the courier envelope under his arm.
He frowns and looks around, then shifts his weight from one foot to the other. “Is Dáithí on break? I might wait for him to get back.”
Hagen’s words from a few weeks back spring into my memory.“I heard the delivery guy ask Dáithí if he’s seeing anyone…”This delivery guy? This guy’s been flirting withmyguy?
My expression must change, because he races to add, “No shade to you, man. I just don’t know you, and these are sensitive documents, you know?”
“I work here,” I point out icily. “Do you know every person you deliver documents to?”
He stutters for a very long few seconds, then looks around again and leans forward conspiratorially. “I swear, I’m not insulting you. I just wanna talk to Dáithí, yeah? I haven’t had a delivery here all week, so this is the first chance I’ve had since last Wednesday.”
I’d probably lose points on this task if I ripped this guy’s arms off, so I tamp down on the urge and say, “Oh?”
He nods. “I’ve been trying to get his attention for months, and I think I’ve finally got a shot. But I’d get fired if I asked for his number while I’m working—not professional, you know? So I gotta cram my work into these deliveries.”
He thinks he has ashot? My fingers start to tingle with offensive magic I’ve used so many times, I don’t even need to remember the spell.
“Hey, Eoin!” Hagen’s shout precedes the security gate opening and him jogging into reception, followed by Ari and Caolan. He skids to a halt beside the soon-to-be-armless delivery guy and gives me a hard look. “Got a second?”
I consciously let go of the spell, pulling myself back into control. Dáithí would be super mad if I disgraced his job by attacking someone—even this douche who thinks he has a shot.
“Yeah.” I hold out my hand for the envelope. “Dáithí’s not in today. Sorry.”
The guy’s face falls. “Bummer.” Sighing, he taps the screen of his device and offers it to me. “Could you sign here with your finger?”
A minute later, I have the envelope and he’s gone. I toss it onto the desk and drop into Dáithí’s chair, burying my face in my hands. “Fuck.”
“That’s one word for it,” Ari agrees, sounding way too gleeful. “Lucky Hagen recognized him. It would have been so unprofessional for you to have punched a courier.”
That brings my head up, and I glare at him. “I wasn’t going to punch him. But even if I had, there would have been more reason for it than there was for you to be an ass in that meeting.”
“You weren’t going to punch him?” Caolan asks. “Really? Because if someone who was flirting with David was suddenly two feet away from me and gave me a reason to, I… might.” He glances around furtively. “Don’t tell him. It’s not reasonable.”
“I wasn’t going to punch him,” I repeat, and when all three of them look deeply skeptical, I add, “I was going to rip his arms off.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Eoin
Hagen tsks,but he’s grinning. “So violent. What did he say, anyway? One minute you were just freaked out, and then the next you were freaked out and mad. We got here just as you transitioned to homicidal.”
I don’t want to admit that I got mad just from realizing the guy has a thing for Dáithí—as Caolan said, it’s not reasonable—so I mutter, “He said he has a shot with Dáithí.” Then I wince. That doesn’t sound reasonable either, when I say it out loud. Before Ari can make another smartass comment, I continue, “Were you watching me? What the fuck?”
