Beauty Dates the Beast(3)

“Oh, I’m not disappointed,” he said in a low voice that made my toes curl.

Between the phone call and the man across from me—who looked altogether too interested in my conversation—I was going to die of embarrassment.

My search results finally came in and the computer pinged at me. Thank God.

One lone, lousy profile popped up on my screen. “It looks like we’ve found you a good match, Beau,” I said, turning on the sales pitch. “Lorraina Murphy happens to be free tonight, and she’s very interested in dating all kinds of shifters, according to her profile.”

He made a rumbling sound of assent. “And what is she?”

“A shifter,” I said evasively.

“What kind?” he pressed.

“Avian.”

An uncomfortable pause. “You’re going to have to be more specific than that.”

I held back a sigh, knowing where this was headed. “Harpy.”

The man across from me smiled.

There was a pause on the phone, as there always was when the harpy’s profile came up. Then, very softly, he said, “I’m not going to go out with a harpy, Bathsheba.”

I couldn’t blame the man. Harpies had a bit of a reputation. They gave psycho-girlfriend new meaning. They tended to get unhinged over small stuff, and then things got really ugly. Shit hit the wall, no joke. “We have a doppelganger on file,” I said desperately. “Jean can pose as a man or a woman, depending on your needs.”

The phone grew very quiet.

Then, “Bathsheba, are you married?” God, his voice sounded sexier than ever.

Say yes. Lie and say you are married. “No,” I breathed. “I’m not.” I didn’t dare look up at the man across from me; too bad I couldn’t hide under my desk.

“Seeing someone?”

“No.” My personal life was way too complicated to even think about throwing a boyfriend into the mix. Worried, I glanced at the doorway to the filing room, but I didn’t see Sara. I hoped she was all right.

“Then it sounds like you’re my date, doesn’t it?”

“What?” I sputtered, then immediately threw the standard rejection at him. “The Paranormal Alliance doesn’t permit human/supe dating unless allowed by a special visa.”

“I’ve got lawyers. Leave the details to me.”

“Mr. Russell,” I said, desperate, “I don’t date clients.”

The man across from me sat up and leaned forward, as if his interest had sparked. He murmured, “That’s a real shame.”

My face couldn’t possibly get any redder. Not. Humanly. Possible.

“Make an exception—or let me talk to Giselle.” The man on the phone wasn’t going to take no for an answer, and I turned all my concentration back to him. I was starting to get a little irritated at his high-handed demands.

“Giselle’s not available.”

“Then it looks like we have only one option.”

Shit. Giselle was going to flay me alive if I went out with a client. It was forbidden. I’d lose my job. Then again … I stared at the star on his profile. I was going to lose my job either way, wasn’t I? Maybe if I went out with Mr. Russell, I could convince him to keep it a secret. Giselle would never have to know we’d botched his account, and I’d have a few drinks with the man and then let him down easy. He seemed nice enough.

I sighed. “I think you are making a mistake, Mr. Russell.”

“Beau.”

“Still a mistake.”

“Why is that? You have a lovely name, a sexy voice, and you’re free tonight,” he said, his tone cajoling. “You’re at least an auxiliary member of the Alliance if you’re working for Giselle, so there won’t be anything awkward to explain, like why I grow a tail sometimes. And you already think I’m a pervert, remember? So there won’t be any surprises.”

Was that a joke? My protest came out as a dry squeak. This was such a bad idea.

“I have to say, I’m looking forward to our date,” Beau continued. “I’ll get the chance to put a face to that sweet tongue of yours.”

I blushed again. Dammit.

Thinking hard, I glanced over at the file room and saw Sara pacing, rubbing her arms. That was a bad sign. Right now she had a lot to stress over: the messed-up account, Giselle’s wrath, and the shifter in the room. A panicked knot formed in my throat as Sara slammed the file room door shut. Very bad sign. Since it was my job to keep Sara from getting agitated, that meant getting rid of the shifter who sat across from me.

And to do that, I had to get the other shifter off the phone.

I turned away from my desk, trying to get a semblance of privacy. “Just dinner,” I breathed into the receiver, caving despite my misgivings. I couldn’t look at the man across the desk from me as I gave in to Beau’s demand. Everything in me shouted big mistake, but I had to do something. Sara was seconds away from losing it. “Not the whole week. And I won’t go back to the hotel with you.”

“Unless you want to,” he added.

I rolled my eyes at his cockiness. “I won’t want to. Trust me.”

“We’ll see,” he said, supremely confident. “I’ll meet you at the restaurant at seven thirty. See you then, sweet Bathsheba.” He hung up.

I set the phone down with relief. One problem down, one to go.

The man across from me smiled. “Hi, I’m Jason,” he said, extending his hand.

“Was that him?” Sara called, her voice muffled through the door. “Am I totally fired now?”

I cleared my throat and gave the man across from me an apologetic look. “Could you excuse me for a moment?”

“Of course,” he said with a nod.

I dashed into the file room and closed the door behind me. Immediately, I put a hand to my mouth, gagging at the thick, cloying perfume. My eyes watered. “Jesus, Sara. If you spray any more of that stuff, he’s going to think we have a rose garden back here.”

“He’s a shifter,” she hissed and sprayed another squirt into the air. “I’m just being careful. So, am I totally fired?”

“Not quite,” I said, fanning the air. The goofy, nervous feeling wouldn’t leave me, no matter how hard I tried to calm down. “I’ve fixed things.”

Sara looked confused. “What do you mean, you ‘fixed’ things?”

“I’m going out with Beau Russell tonight. Taking Rosie’s place.”

Sara’s jaw dropped. “What? We’re not allowed to date clients. You’re a normal, not paranormal. You don’t have the appropriate paperwork.” She shook her head, glancing at the closed door behind me to make sure our guest wasn’t going to enter. “That’s really sweet of you, sis, but Giselle will have a cow if she finds out.”

“I won’t tell if you won’t,” I said. “By the time she gets back from vacation, it’ll be taken care of.”

She shook her head, her short, fine hair flying about her shoulders. “Don’t be crazy, Bath. I can fix this—”

I grabbed her arm and pinched it, like I used to when we were kids. “If you erase one file out of that database, I swear I’m going to pour water onto your motherboard at home. Understand me?” At her glare, I continued, “I’m the office manager. Let me manage this.”

She stuck her tongue out at me in response, and I knew I’d won.

“Are you going to be okay?” I asked abruptly, changing the subject. “Do you need to leave?”

“I’m fine,” she said as she rubbed her arms again. “Everything’s under control.”

“Bullshit.” I wanted to reach for her again, but I knew from experience that would just aggravate things. “I’ll take care of this guy. You stay in here and I’ll cover for you until you feel better, all right?”

Her lips pinched into a tight line, and she nodded.

“Knock something over so you have an excuse to stay here and clean up. Just not the perfume bottle. My lunch won’t stay down if you spray it again.”

Again, Sara gave a tight nod.

I gave her a thumbs-up and slipped out of the room.

Jason smiled at me as I returned to my desk. “Everything all right?”

“Just fine,” I agreed with my best smile. “Now if I could just see your Alliance ID, I can get your profile set up.”

It took forty-five minutes to set up Jason’s account. I usually got them set up faster while still being polite and chatty, but Jason was a talker and a flirt to boot. I worked steadily, sneaking glances at the closed file room door. There wasn’t a single sound, which concerned me a little, but I couldn’t show it.

Jason was determined to hit on me. I declined his advances and kept things strictly business, sending his request for a date to a pretty little were-fox that I thought might suit him. Once Jason had his profile paperwork printed out and his latest flirtatious comment rebuffed, there was nothing else for him to do but leave. I kept working for a few minutes after he left, just in case he decided to come back, but he didn’t. Then, I bolted up from my desk and ran to the file room and opened the door.