Part 8 (1/2)
Ca.s.sie practically broke a heel in her hurry to get up on the table. ”That's enough, Devvy.”
”That's not even a start. After what he called you...”
”Never mind. Sticks and stones.”
That was a good idea, actually. ”Got any?”
She bit her lip, possibly trying not to laugh. Taking advantage of her distraction, I turned to have at Kurt again. He was trying not to look like he was trying to look up her skirt, but when he saw that I'd noticed, he jumped.
”That's enough,” Ca.s.sie repeated, taking a preemptive hold on me.
No, it wasn't. But there were times and there were places for certain things, and it was starting to sink in that I was standing on a conference table, losing control of a meeting.
”All right. We're done here,” I grumbled. ”Let me recap for you: Everyone goes to the Christmas party. No excuses. I know where you all live, and I'll hunt you down with wolverines if I have to. Got that?”
I took the silence for a.s.sent.
”Now let's all get back to work. And I don't want any of you talking to anyone else in this room for the rest of the day. That goes triple for me. Understood?”
No one said anything.
”Now go.”
They shot out of the room like pinb.a.l.l.s. I hadn't seen people move that fast around J/J/G for ages, not even that day last year when the microwave caught fire.
Ca.s.sie and I just stood there for a minute. Finally, she laughed. ”Well, that was fun. You're getting better at this, you know?”
”I know.” Wearily, I pinched the bridge of my nose. ”I'm going to have to scare him again, Ca.s.s.”
”Not today.”
”No. I'll save it for the Christmas party.”
Her eyes lighted up. ”You are getting better at this.”
”It'll give me something to look forward to. I don't want to go either.”
”No one does.” She leaned closer. ”Now, does that not-talking-to-you-all-day rule apply to me?”
”Depends what you want.”
”I want you to move in with me. But I could settle for lunch.”
”Settle for lunch,” I advised.
She just smiled. I was starting to know that look a little too well.
The Friday of the party, we were in Ca.s.sie's master bath getting ready when the doorbell rang.
”Just because it rings doesn't mean you have to answer,” I reminded her.
”I know. That's what peepholes are for.” She handed me the earring that she hadn't finished putting in. ”Hold on to this for me. I'll be right back.”
Muttering, I set it down on the counter and shook the eyeliner tube again, trying to get more on the brush. Ca.s.sie thought touch liner was for amateurs, but I thought pencil was too much work, so we generally avoided putting on makeup at the same time to avoid arguments. Tonight, though, we were short on time.
”Honey?” she called from downstairs.
I finished up quickly and recapped the liner tube. ”Sweetheart?”
”Could you come here for a minute? Please?”
Please? Startled, I went down to see what was wrong. She was holding a long white florist's box, looking perplexed.
”It was on the doorstep,” she reported. ”n.o.body was there. What do you think?”
”Is it ticking?”
”No. Should I open it?”
”Only if you want to know what's inside.”
She backhanded me, but she was laughing, so I didn't take it personally. With mild interest, I watched her open the box. It looked like...
”Lilies,” Ca.s.sie said flatly. ”Dead ones.”
I didn't like the sound of that. Just to be safe, I took the box away from her. ”Don't touch them. Did you see a card?”
She held up a small white envelope. ”It was on the lid. Wait a second.” Cautiously, she tore it open and pulled out the card. She looked at one side and then, puzzled, at the other. ”Blank. Who do you suppose...?”
”I don't know. But let's stick together tonight. No sense taking any chances.”
”Oh, come on, Devvy. It was probably supposed to be a joke.”
”Did you laugh?”
Ca.s.sie sighed, conceding the point. ”I just hate to go in suspicious tonight. Things are going to be tense enough already. You don't suppose Jenner's really going to fire people this year, do you?”
”Wouldn't be Christmas without a Scrooge.” I started to put the florist's box down, but something inside caught my eye. Trying not to be obvious about it, I looked closer. It was a cigar b.u.t.t. Jack's brand.
”What is it? Is something wrong?”