These two little words quietly spoken resonated through the lounge room as if shouted. Lips pressed in a firm line from the audacity of it all, Audrey Spurhart stared over the top of her laptop at the man fitted into a snug courier ensemble.
Either Ronan was stupidly oblivious or by nature just stupid because he instead settled into the chair beyond her desk, turning it backward before seating himself, his lips worked into an arrogant curve.
“No ‘hello’, no ‘how are you doing’ today?” Ronan asked. “You wound me, Audrey.”
Audrey frowned as her chest clenched. Her refusal to beat the bushes blue with pleasantries was a childhood trait that set her apart from the other girls. The quirk was a large one that made her appear cold and impetuous, but the concept had never troubled her as a young witchling. She refused to let it do so now.
“You want something, Ronan, now spill,” she said. “And if this is another proposition to be your lady friend, let it be known I have my attorney on speed dial.”
That earned Audrey raised eyebrows accompanied by a slight shake of Ronan’s shaggy cinnamon head. “Can’t a guy hunt down his favorite Wicked Inc. secretary to deliver an interesting bit of news without need for a lawyer?” Ronan said flashing her a toothy grin.
It was Audrey’s turn to kick up an eyebrow at his words. “Yes, if you were a man. The men I date don’t hunt anything. Dogs, yes. Men, no.”
“I prefer the term wolf,” Ronan said with a wink. “But we can split hairs later. Preferably at my place.”
Four of Audrey’s fingers pressed into her temple, massaging firmly as her eyes squeezed shut.
“Stem the visual, Audrey,” she murmured more to herself. “Do not give into his game.”
The creak of his chair indicated the postman was leaning forward and if the hairs dancing on her neck were any indication he was in her personal space. “Did anyone ever tell you annoyance makes your freckles pop?”
Audrey’s eyes flew open, irritation becoming a clear flame in her chest. She swore under her breath. Ronan had always been noisy in his observation of her second-most despised trait. The first being her curvy full figure. Though the courier had always been loquacious about her many flaws, he seemed especially so today.
Inhaling deeply, Audrey matched Ronan gaze for gaze. “Last time, Ronan, before I bounce your ass out of here with a security escort. What do you want?”
“The Hallows’ Eve Wicked party is tonight,” said Ronan, his grin going a step beyond supercilious. “I’ve got two invitations and one has your name attached. Lucky you I just cleared my calendar.”
Audrey blinked at the courier and resisted the urge to ask someone to pinch her for fear she had finally lost her hearing. “Are you asking to be my escort?”
“Escort. Date,” the courier muttered with a shrug. “Who can tell these days?”
Presenting two envelopes to Audrey, Ronan grinned, “What do you say, Audrey?”
“I’d sooner learn to skate when hell freezes over,” Audrey said dryly.
And with a quick filch of the letters, Audrey swept the chair out from under Ronan with a quick tap of her Miranda high heel.
Rising from her chair, Audrey smiled down at the fallen courier and wiggled her fingers. “Hope you’re not here after break, Ronan,” Audrey said with a sly smile. “I hear Clark in security just got dumped and has been looking for a hot rebound man.”
Audrey left for the company break room. Mug in hand, she stepped over Ronan’s prone form.
“We’ll see about that, witch,” she heard as the elevator doors slid closed.