Once Upon Stilettos
Page 75

He looked across the table at me, and I had the uncomfortable feeling that he could see right through me. “Be honest, Katie,” he said softly. “If not with me, then with yourself. If you want something, you have to believe you deserve it. I like you enough that I can’t deal with the idea of you being with me only because you don’t think you deserve anything better.”
“So now this is for my own good?”
“It’s for both of us. I’d rather end this before it gets deep enough that we get hurt. At least this way we haven’t crossed too many lines that could keep us from ever being friends again.”
If I could put aside my hurt and disappointment long enough, I knew I’d be grateful for the timing. I’d have been utterly desolate if he’d broken up with me after we’d slept together, which is what would have likely happened soon enough if things had gone according to my plans. Then my throat started to ache in the way that meant tears were imminent. I couldn’t let him see me cry.
“Well, thanks for lunch,” I said, fighting for control. My hand shook as I took my napkin off my lap and threw it on the table. “I have to get back to work now. Oh, and the lunch idea was quite the stroke of genius. No time for prolonged conversation or fighting. But for the future, have some mercy and remember that the poor girl has to face her office again after you’ve dumped her. At least do it at the end of the day so she can go straight home and eat ice cream instead of having to pretend to work.” I slid off the booth seat, adjusted my skirt, collected my coat, and turned to go.
“Katie!” he called after me. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think about that.”
I couldn’t turn back. The tears had already started to fall and I didn’t want him to see them. Instead, I ignored him and kept on walking. I wasn’t even sure why I was crying. It wasn’t like I’d really fallen in love with him. Deep down inside, I had to admit to myself that he was right, in a way. I did want normal, as much as I’d hated being so utterly ordinary before I joined MSI. I didn’t see how normal and the magical world were necessarily mutually exclusive. The time I’d had dinner with Owen flashed into my brain. That had been such a delightfully normal, ordinary evening, even though Owen was about as magical as you could get. And Ethan was also right about where my heart really was. That didn’t make me feel any less heartbroken. Not only did I not have Owen as anything more than a friend, but I didn’t have Ethan, either.
I paused on the sidewalk to find a tissue in my purse so I could wipe away the tears, and that’s when I felt the tingle. I might not have been able to see anything veiled by magic, but I’d learned to recognize the sensation of magic in use. And magic was in use very close by me, but without my magical immunity I had no idea what was happening. I was as good as blind, and more vulnerable than I’d ever been.
Unfortunately, the magical tingle wasn’t a directional thing. I got the same sense of the little hairs at the back of my neck standing on end no matter where the magic came from. The best I could manage was to play “hot or cold” and see if the tingle got stronger in a particular direction. But I was not up to playing games at that moment. Instead, I stood my ground, facing straight ahead the way I would have even if I could have seen what magical mischief was afoot. “Look, I don’t know what you’re up to, but this really is not the time,” I said to no one in particular. “I’m tired and I’m pissed off, so get the hell out of my way and leave me alone.”
Even a magical creature must have known better than to mess with a woman who’d just been dumped, for the tingle quickly faded. Not wanting to take any chances, I hurried forward to get to the safety of the office before my invisible stalker had second thoughts about letting me go.
I paused before I turned the corner to approach the MSI building and found a clean tissue in my purse. Then I dabbed at my eyes, blew my nose, and checked my reflection in my compact mirror. I didn’t look great, but there was no mascara running down my face, and any redness around my eyes could have come from being out in the cold. With a deep breath, I forced myself to hold my head high and walk toward the entrance with my most confident stride.
I gave a passing nod to the guardian gargoyle—not one I knew, thank goodness—then hurried up to my office. The reigning paranoia meant I didn’t have to worry about anyone trying to strike up a conversation with me along the way. I didn’t even have to worry about anyone making eye contact. I managed to hold myself together until I got to Merlin’s office suite, where Trix cheerfully asked, “So, how was the hot lunch date?” without looking up from her computer.