Lucas visibly repressed his amusement. “Well, anyway. I’m glad everything turned out okay. I’ll see ya, buttercup.” Without waiting for a response, he turned and crossed the parking lot to throw his leg over a waiting motorcycle.
Buttercup! And of course he drove a motorcycle. I hated motorcycles.
So why did I find myself turning back, trying to catch a glimpse of him roaring away? Sometimes I truly baffled myself.
I had only been nursing my drink a few minutes at a high-top when Sloan appeared, carrying a basket of some sort. She stopped to get a drink on the way, leaving the basket up front with Blaine.
She eyed the bottle and glasses on the table as she approached. “Is that champagne I see? Does that mean what I think it means?”
I couldn’t help my grin.
She gave me an excited hug before sliding onto her stool. “Tell me everything.”
I gave her a rundown of how Grant had apparently been so shaken by the fact that he’d been found out—that he made a complete mess of his presentation. Stammered nervously, forgot key information, and was just all around terrible. “He even accidentally called our boss his behind-her-back nickname for her. Dr. Me Bore.”
Sloan gasped and we both broke into a fit of laughter.
“Turns out I didn’t need to rat him out,” I finished. “I just needed to let loose his own guilt and get out of the way.
“So you got it?”
“I nailed it. And a while later they called me in for a meeting—and offered me the position. As soon as my fellowship is complete, I’ll be joining the faculty.”
“Congratulations!”
As I poured her a glass of the champagne, Hannah strolled through the door. She headed straight for us, without a glance toward the bar.
But she definitely didn’t escape Blaine’s notice. His eyes followed her to our table, his look of befuddlement deepening as she hopped onto one of our stools. I had a feeling he was intrigued as to what Hannah would be doing with us.
“Celebrating, I see,” she said. “I take it you got the job?”
“I did.” Elated, I handed her a glass.
“Fantastic. I have my own celebrating to do, too.”
Sloan smirked. “Celebrating kicking Blaine to the curb, are we?”
We all glanced toward the bar. Blaine quickly looked away and pretended to be engrossed in a task.
“Well, that too,” Hannah said, grinning. “But I also got a new job. Walter is now the sole head of the firm, and he’s made me his executive assistant. With a raise. And best of all, Malibu Barbie is out of there.”
We both congratulated Hannah. I glanced back toward the bar just in time to see Blaine pull something from Sloan’s basket and toss it discreetly into his mouth.
I nodded my head toward the bar. “What’s with the basket you brought in?”
Sloan returned a playful grin. “That, ladies, was our grand finale.”
Hannah and I exchanged a puzzled look.
Sloan motioned to Hannah. “One of the things you mentioned about Blaine was that he had a major weakness for anything chocolate-peanut butter.”
Hannah nodded. “Total addict. Can’t help himself if it’s around.”
“Exactly. So I’ve, sort of, been bringing by a basket of the addictive little balls Sayid makes at the diner. And leaving them next to Blaine whenever he’s on duty. He thinks he’s doing a favor for me, advertising my homemade chocolate business.”
Uh oh. “But really you are . . . ”
Sloan smirked. “Getting back at a lying two-timing flirt by fattening him up. He can’t keep his grubby little hands off ‘em. He’s eaten half the basket since we got here.”
We all glanced over again to see Blaine pull his hand from the basket and push the whole thing down the bar, away from himself.
Hannah gaped. “I knew he’d been putting on pounds. You’re so bad!”
Sloan shrugged. “Just doing women everywhere a favor. That should slow down his game a little bit, for a while anyway. But that’s the last of my chocolate torture. I’ll cut him loose after today.”
Hannah giggled and raised her glass. “I’ll cheers to that.”
“Congratulations all around then.” Sloan raised hers.
I lifted my glass and looked to Sloan. “So what are you celebrating? Solving the mystery?”
“Sure, bringing someone to justice is reward in itself. As long as I get paid.” Her playful face turned serious as she turned to me. “But I’m also celebrating what I hope is a new partnership. I know you have a real career and all, but I think we make a great team. I couldn’t have done this without you. And I’ve had more fun in the past few weeks than I ever have.”
I couldn’t disagree. I smiled back. “Cheers, indeed.”
We all clinked glasses and took sips. Then gulps, broken by laughter.
I suddenly had a thought. “So what made you think you might want to bring me into all this in the first place?”
She smiled back at me warmly. “I usually get paid for my investigations, but it’s just a job. So let’s just say . . . I guess I wanted to check out a real-life mystery instead.”
I felt myself reddening a little at the memory of my own stumbling words. I mentally blamed it on the champagne.
“So next time I have something interesting,” she continued, “does that mean I give you a call?”
I tried my best to hide my grin. “We’ll just have to see when you come up with something, won’t we?”
About the Author
Carrie Ann Knox is an audiologist, writer, and longtime mystery lover. After finishing a clinical doctorate and opening her own practice, she began to indulge her other passion, crafting stories that appeal to those with a thirst for adventure, technology and mystery. She also enjoys curling up with her dog Gizmo and a good book in their home in southeast Virginia.
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Impulse Spy (Sonic Sleuths Series) Page 18
