crackled through me in electrified waves. How dare she sleep with him? He could sue us for sexual harassment, and then where would we be? Bad enough James had died in the line of duty; now we had to worry about opening ourselves up to Clark’s greed.
My anger followed me all the way back to my apartment. I vowed to have it out with Izzy. She would probably break down, begging my forgiveness and firing Clark instantly. I smiled at my deluded fantasy as I unlocked my front door.
As soon as I took my first step inside, a ruby slipper came flying my way. It barely missed my head, smashing into the door behind me with a muffled thud. “Whoa,” I yelled, holding up my hands. “What the hell, Izzy?”
“Are you kidding me?” My partner in crime solving let the second slipper fly. My catlike reflexes saved me from a nasty lump as I ducked out of the projectile’s way just in time. “Do you have any idea how pissed I am at you?”
From the flying slippers and the heaving of her barely contained breasts, I had a pretty fair idea. “So I took a case.” I shook my head, going on the defensive. “What’s the big deal? We are investigators. Investigating cases is sort of what we do. I’ve taken plenty of cases without a lengthy discussion. What makes this one any different?”
My reasoning didn’t cool her rage one bit. In fact, it seemed to enrage her even more. Her eyes flashed with blue flames. “You purposely kept this case a secret from me. A fairy case from your fairy partner.” Her shoulders slumped. “I thought we were past this. Past keeping secrets and lying to each other.”
Guilt pooled in my gut along with the rubbery overcooked chicken from dinner. I swallowed, pushing both further down. “Izzy. I didn’t mean to—”
“Lie to me?” She snorted. “Or you didn’t mean for me to find out?”
“The second one,” I admitted. “I didn’t want you involved.”
She took a step toward me. “So you were protecting me?”
The soft way she asked the question was all the warning I needed. “Hell no. You are more than capable of protecting yourself. I was . . . um . . .”
“What you are is an idiot.”
I ignored her insult, preparing myself to ask the question that had been burning in my mind. The one Grumpy had instilled and later Clayton and his Davis Securities comment had cemented. Did Izzy want me out? As much as I wanted that answer, my tongue had other plans. “What’s with you and Clark?”
“What?”
“Are you dating him?” This time I wanted to bite off my treacherous tongue. What was wrong with me? What she did after hours was none of my business. I felt like a stupid schoolboy with a secret, obsessive crush on the head cheerleader. A cheerleader with wings and a hell of a right hook, I reminded myself, stepping out of striking distance.
She crossed her arms over her chest, a clear indication she was about to let me have it. “You’re kidding, right? Less than six hours ago I walked in on you and your little friend Bo Peep, and I didn’t say a fucking word about how incredibly stupid you are for getting involved with the likes of her. And now you have the audacity to ask me about Clark?”
While she had a point, I wasn’t quite willing to let it go, which only proved her assessment of my intelligence all the more. “Nothing happened with Bo. I thought she had—”
“Oh,” she said. “I know exactly what you thought she had for you.”
“Hey,” I complained.
She waved me off. “If we’re going to stay partners, we need complete and total honesty between us.”
I nodded slowly, wondering just where she planned to go with this.
Her eyebrows rose. “Well?”
“Well what?”
She rolled her indigo-colored irises. “Tell me about the case.”
“No.”
“What?” Her screech nearly knocked her off her bare feet.
I moved around her, keeping at least three feet of distance between us. I picked up a bottle of whiskey from the coffee table, pouring a shot into
My anger followed me all the way back to my apartment. I vowed to have it out with Izzy. She would probably break down, begging my forgiveness and firing Clark instantly. I smiled at my deluded fantasy as I unlocked my front door.
As soon as I took my first step inside, a ruby slipper came flying my way. It barely missed my head, smashing into the door behind me with a muffled thud. “Whoa,” I yelled, holding up my hands. “What the hell, Izzy?”
“Are you kidding me?” My partner in crime solving let the second slipper fly. My catlike reflexes saved me from a nasty lump as I ducked out of the projectile’s way just in time. “Do you have any idea how pissed I am at you?”
From the flying slippers and the heaving of her barely contained breasts, I had a pretty fair idea. “So I took a case.” I shook my head, going on the defensive. “What’s the big deal? We are investigators. Investigating cases is sort of what we do. I’ve taken plenty of cases without a lengthy discussion. What makes this one any different?”
My reasoning didn’t cool her rage one bit. In fact, it seemed to enrage her even more. Her eyes flashed with blue flames. “You purposely kept this case a secret from me. A fairy case from your fairy partner.” Her shoulders slumped. “I thought we were past this. Past keeping secrets and lying to each other.”
Guilt pooled in my gut along with the rubbery overcooked chicken from dinner. I swallowed, pushing both further down. “Izzy. I didn’t mean to—”
“Lie to me?” She snorted. “Or you didn’t mean for me to find out?”
“The second one,” I admitted. “I didn’t want you involved.”
She took a step toward me. “So you were protecting me?”
The soft way she asked the question was all the warning I needed. “Hell no. You are more than capable of protecting yourself. I was . . . um . . .”
“What you are is an idiot.”
I ignored her insult, preparing myself to ask the question that had been burning in my mind. The one Grumpy had instilled and later Clayton and his Davis Securities comment had cemented. Did Izzy want me out? As much as I wanted that answer, my tongue had other plans. “What’s with you and Clark?”
“What?”
“Are you dating him?” This time I wanted to bite off my treacherous tongue. What was wrong with me? What she did after hours was none of my business. I felt like a stupid schoolboy with a secret, obsessive crush on the head cheerleader. A cheerleader with wings and a hell of a right hook, I reminded myself, stepping out of striking distance.
She crossed her arms over her chest, a clear indication she was about to let me have it. “You’re kidding, right? Less than six hours ago I walked in on you and your little friend Bo Peep, and I didn’t say a fucking word about how incredibly stupid you are for getting involved with the likes of her. And now you have the audacity to ask me about Clark?”
While she had a point, I wasn’t quite willing to let it go, which only proved her assessment of my intelligence all the more. “Nothing happened with Bo. I thought she had—”
“Oh,” she said. “I know exactly what you thought she had for you.”
“Hey,” I complained.
She waved me off. “If we’re going to stay partners, we need complete and total honesty between us.”
I nodded slowly, wondering just where she planned to go with this.
Her eyebrows rose. “Well?”
“Well what?”
She rolled her indigo-colored irises. “Tell me about the case.”
“No.”
“What?” Her screech nearly knocked her off her bare feet.
I moved around her, keeping at least three feet of distance between us. I picked up a bottle of whiskey from the coffee table, pouring a shot into
Similar Books
