Page 58 of The Nowhere Witch

I saw Oscar leaving out of the corner of my eye as Hawk headed over. He stopped by my desk, picked up the slip, and looked at it.

“You can’t put that kind of promise out into the universe and not uphold it. There will be payment one way or another, and it won’t be good. Disease, possibly death.” He dropped the slip back onto my desk.

I nodded, trying not to engage too much. I picked up one of my cheater books, as Zab had called them, and flipped through it for the average rates for parties. I was trying hard not to look at Hawk, who had decided to sit on my desk and flip though my slips.

He reached over, grabbed one of my books, and flipped through that next. I reread the same passage for the third time, trying to ignore his existence. It wasn’t working well. Some people can scream right beside you and barely register. Some can whisper and you hear every word. Hawk was in the latter group.

“Talking about entertainment, how was yours last night?” Hawk asked, continuing to flip through the book.

“I don’t think that’s appropriate work conversation.” This was definitely work, and he was most definitely not my friend.

“That doesn’t sound very good. I’m not surprised you don’t want to discuss it.”

Great. I was now forced to either keep quiet and confirm his belief—which, unfortunately, was true—or elaborate and confirm his belief anyway.

I’d have to say nothing. I would rise above. I could do it. I’d fly like an eagle above the riff raff as I read the same passage for the fourth time.

“That bad, huh? I didn’t want to tell you, but he did seem a bit dull.”

“He’s not dull. He’s very interesting.” And the regal eagle was swooping down to catch some fish in the muddy swamp. So much for rising above.

“I’m sure he can talk about something. Did you discuss drink recipes? Did he try to hold your hand while you sipped cocoas? He doesn’t seem the type to grab your hair and throw you up against the building.”

Had he been watching us? Or was Gregor that predictably boring? I glanced around the office, wondering how many people were listening. Zab and Mussoseemedto be working. Poor Bibbi had her hand on her chin, staring at Hawk with unadulterated lust.

“I have a lot of work to do, and I’m already very tired from my night out. And as I said, this isn’t appropriate work conversation.”

“Sure. You must be wiped out after getting in right after moonrise. How many hours of sleep could you even squeeze in? Ten? Eleven?”

I ignored him. There was nothing else that would help my case anyway. He was right. I didn’t know when moonrise was, but I did know how early I’d gotten back, and apparently he did as well. He wasn’t in the office when I’d come in, but he had something rigged to let him know who walked in this place at all times. I’d have to figure out a way around that.

He stood. I kept my eyes firmly on the papers in front of me.

Bibbi let out a sigh as Hawk left. She always did as he departed. She was too young to realize what she was getting into, even if she was my age. There was young on the calendar and then there was young and green. I’d never seen a pasture in spring after a good week of rain that could compete with how green this girl was. Hawk would chew her up, if he took more than a second to notice her.

I was going to have to have a talk with that girl. It was almost noon. Perfect timing.

“Bibbi, you want to go get cocoa with me?”

She glanced up, looking about as if she wasn’t sure I was speaking to her.

“Do you want to go?” I said, walking to her desk.

“You mean you want me to go get you cocoa?” she asked.

Okay, I might not have thrown off the most welcoming vibes when I’d first met her, but had I been that bad? Maybe it was that magic caste system. Did she think I wouldn’t want to go anywhere with a Whimsy?

“I’m asking if you want to gowithme.”

“Yes!” She shot out of her seat, knocking it over in her excitement. Then she knocked her basket over in the process of picking the chair up.

“Bibbi, go. I got it,” Zab said, sweeping up all the slips.

“Okay,” she said, scrambling to get her jacket.

“So how’s it going? Do you like it at the broker’s office?” I asked as we crossed the street.

“Oh, it’s great.”