揇o you??I fling back.
揟hat抯 my business, and mine alone,?he clips, sliding back in his chair.
揥hy??
揃ecause what I do away from work isn抰 your concern,?he growls, irritation creeping into his tone.
揥hy??I repeat just to screw with him.
揥ere you even listening??
I smile slowly. 揂 boss once told me I have to go three whys deep.?
揑抦 not a fucking client,?he snaps. 揂nd you should stick to your morgues and haunted houses. You抮e no comedian, Miss Poe.?
揂nd you抮e my boss, Mr. Burns,?I say sweetly. 揧ou抮e the ultimate client. But you know how it抯 none of my business why you were at a tent city inside a public park??
揙f course I know. That抯 what I want you to figure out.?
I try not to laugh. Why does it feel so good getting him worked up?
揑t抯 technically none of your business why I was at the same public park on a gorgeous day, biking with a friend. It抯 not impossible or even implausible for two people who frequent the same coffee shop a few blocks away to wind up at the same public park, is it??
Ha. Argue with that.
揌ave you been there before? Don抰 lie to me now. It抯 very important I can trust the people I work with,?he says, towering in his seat as he straightens, his hands clasped in front of him.
I can抰 help the way my eyes wander to those fingers. For a man who spends so much time in the office, his hands look rough. Worn.
They抮e the kind of hands that could do appalling things to me in my darkest dreams. The ones I抦 totally not having where my boss grabs me, shoves me against the nearest wall, and shoves his hands between my?揗iss Poe? Are you home or did the ravens make off with your brain today? I asked a simple question,?he snarls.
揘o. It抯 not usually a place I go. I抦 more the type to head over to Alki Beach or maybe take the ferry over to Bainbridge for the day. But where did you see Eliza and I棓
揟hat抯 Tweedle Dum? Eliza??
I glare at him.
揥here did you see us before we all wound up at the same park??I ask pointedly.
揝aturday morning? I only saw you at the park,?he says.
揟hen I couldn抰 have followed you there. Thanks for proving my point. No stalker, no drama, so maybe let抯 just get on with our day like grown-ups??
Like hell, his snapping brown eyes say. You抮e not getting off that easy.
揑 must have overlooked you at Sweeter Grind,?he says slowly.
揇oubtful. Since we抳e established I have nice bright hair and a tattoo on a well-toned body you抮e obsessed with, you wouldn抰 have missed me.?
揟ouch??He levels a long look on me.
Why does that make my blood run hot?
揧ou抳e seen me go to the park from Sweeter Grind before,?he says, his eyes sliding up and down my torso, hot and assessing.
揂nd I just instinctively knew you抎 be there??I make an exasperated sound. 揑 don抰 think so, man. I might like my horror and fantasy but I抦 no psychic.?
He shrugs. 揗aybe you found it on some nosy little rat抯 social media. You like reading about me.?
I snort. 揥hat? Your trips to the tent city are so frequent they抮e online??
He抯 quiet for a moment, deep in thought.
揘o. That can抰 be the case. I抳e never seen anyone following me or snapping pics, no matter how often I go.?
揟hen how could I have read it??I slap my thigh.
I抦 so annoyed. And extra annoyed that getting this riled up is a two-way street. It抯 like we抮e just feeding off each other抯 suspicions now.
揌ow did you find out I was there??he demands.
I start laughing.
揧ou took all the Regis rolls again. Duh. We got to the shop after you blew through. I抣l admit, I was curious, and Eliza put me up to it. I wanted to know where you went with the rolls and the Sweeter Grind girl said you head for the park sometimes棓
揥hat is it with you and those damn cinnamon rolls??he barks.
揧ou抮e asking me? You抮e the one who needs at least half a dozen every day…？
揝he told you how many I bought? That should be confidential.?He sounds mortified.
I laugh helplessly again.
揘ope, everybody knows you抮e a junkie. Sorry, buddy.?
揂ll joking aside, I don抰 think you should go back there. Not for work, and not for your personal stomping grounds.?
Oh my God.
He抯 serious, isn抰 he?
My boss is trying to dictate what parts of the city I抦 allowed to visit.
揧eah, no, that抯 definitely not your business.?I roll my eyes right out of my head.
揚robably not, but this isn抰 about your juvenile spying. It isn抰 always the safest place if you抮e not sure where you抮e going or who the bad people are there. You and Tweedle Dum棓
揥ould you quit calling her that??I lean forward, flicking a fallen lock of hair over one ear.
揧ou and your friend seem like easy targets,?he corrects.
揟hat抯 not your problem,?I snap.
But I抦 actually stunned that he gives two craps about my well-being. Even if he tells me with zero tact.
揥rong, Nevermore. It抯 very much my business if I lose my best copywriter and her sidekick to some sneaky fuck looking for an easy payday梠r worse.?
The way he bites off that last word leaves a yawning silence. Ominous.
?I doubt I抦 your best copywriter, Mr. Burns,?I say. 揧ou have people with vastly more experience than me under their belts.?
揧our ideas are fresh and funny. That is, when your wit goes in a focused direction with our product and isn抰 trained on me.?He thumps his chest with a hilarious glower, his brow pulled low.
Amazing. He抯 so far up his own butt that he actually believes his BS.
But he does genuinely care about me getting robbed梠r worse梐nd that抯 unexpectedly sweet.
I take a slow sip of coffee, trying to shake this weird dizzy feeling.
揂re we done here? As much fun as it抯 been, I have a mountain of work. Can I go??
His look leaves me anchored in place梐nd that抯 when it hits me.
As long as I work here, I抣l be answering to a man who can抰 take a joke or get a clue.
I just wonder what sin I committed in some past dreary life to wind up at the mercy of Lincoln freaking Burns.
8
A Flirt And Flutter （Lincoln）
揂re we done here, boss? As much fun as it抯 been, I have a mountain of work. Can I go??She bats her eyes, utterly oblivious to what it does to me.
揘o,?I say sternly.
揥hy not??
She has to ask? Like she doesn抰 know she went peeping through a very dark, private window into my life, and I抦 basically letting her off with a slap on the wrist?
揧ou remember earlier when you said we were even??I ask.
Nevermore takes a deep breath. Her eyes narrow. Everything is effort with her, the little brat.
揧es??she whispers.
揥e抮e not, but we抮e going to be even very soon.?
揙h, yeah? What does that mean??
揇id you notice Lucy wasn抰 here when you came in this morning??I look down, rubbing at this minor smudge on my desk.
揑 didn抰 have time to notice anything. This impatient nutter pulled me into his office and accused me of stalking and other high crimes.?
She gets my eyes.
My very tired eyes, thoroughly exhausted with this sniping back and forth.
揥ell, she抣l be gone for at least the next eight weeks. Possibly longer,?I say.
揝he had her baby??Miss Poe smiles.
揘ot yet, but she抯 in labor from what I understand.?
That happy, well-wishing grin on her face fades instantly. Her eyes go wide with grief.
揥ait. Wait, now you want me to play secretary, don抰 you??