Page 30
Story: Black to Light
A different suspicion came over me. Was he testing me? Was this a prank to determine if I was serious about working for him?
“No,” he said at once. “Not at all, doc.”
Who was this client? Government?
“No,” he repeated, even more firm.
Well, we needed to discuss new phone rules, and set up protocols for this new world we found ourselves in. Like how I shouldn’t say the word “seer” on a phone connection he didn’t trust. Like how he should have tipped me off in some way about thatbeforeI said it. Like how we needed code words, at least for––
“Agreed,” Black broke in. “Come in, doc,” he cajoled. “So we can talk.”
“Is this job in San Francisco?” I asked warily.
“Yes.” He paused. “Well. Most of it is. Maybe. Probably.”
My eyebrow quirked. My lips twitched. For some reason, I found myself amused more than annoyed. How had I forgotten, so very very quickly, what it was like working for him?
“Are you fucking with me?” I asked, deadpan.
But he could feel me past my tone of voice.
“You’re in an awfully good mood.” His voice shifted from cagey to significantly more amused. “Should your husband be made aware of why? Is this all because you remembered how much you hate sitting through endless, one-on-one whining sessions with rich pricks? And that no one was putting a gun to your head, making you do it?”
I rolled my eyes, but he wasn’t exactly wrong.
“I want to go house-hunting,” I informed him. “Somewhere beachy. I was hoping to do that soonish. Like this weekend. Or tonight. Will this new job interfere with that?”
There was a silence.
I felt shock in his light… brief, tangible… followed by an unmistakeable flood of warmth and affection in my chest and abdomen. That warmth rapidly turned to heat, then an intense fire that made something deep and hard and cold in me begin to melt.
It relaxed me so much, I exhaled in pure relief.
“House hunting… hmm.” He pretended to think about that. “I don’t see why it should interfere with anything work-related, no.” He paused. “So my never-ending hints about buying us a house on the beach have finally paid off? Very interesting, doc. Very very interesting…”
“Yourhints?” I scoffed.
“Yes, mine. I was beginning to think I’d have to handcuff you to my car and drag you around to look at properties I was bookmarking on Zillow.”
“Sounds far-fetched,” I noted.
“Maybe.” He grunted. “So the beach works for you, then? Possibly a swimming pool? I’d like the option to gawk at my wife in a bikini in private.”
“That sounds… acceptable,” I conceded. “Possibly. So you’re going with me, I take it?” I asked, my voice mock inquisitive. “On this theoretical house hunt?”
“I wasn’t aware it was theoretical,” he scoffed. “And of course I’m going. I fully intend to browbeat you into giving me my way on every particular.”
I snorted a laugh. “So Ishouldgo alone? Is that what you’re telling me? Is this all a sneaky way to get out of dealing with real estate agents?”
“Unforgivable,” he said haughtily. “No. And absolutely not.”
There was another silence.
Black cleared his throat.
“So… you’re really in?” he asked. “For the job? Should I put you on the roster?”
I couldn’t help but hear the hopeful note in his voice. At the same time, I could tell my good mood was infecting him, which felt really nice, damn it, after weeks of worrying I was infecting him in the exact opposite direction.
“No,” he said at once. “Not at all, doc.”
Who was this client? Government?
“No,” he repeated, even more firm.
Well, we needed to discuss new phone rules, and set up protocols for this new world we found ourselves in. Like how I shouldn’t say the word “seer” on a phone connection he didn’t trust. Like how he should have tipped me off in some way about thatbeforeI said it. Like how we needed code words, at least for––
“Agreed,” Black broke in. “Come in, doc,” he cajoled. “So we can talk.”
“Is this job in San Francisco?” I asked warily.
“Yes.” He paused. “Well. Most of it is. Maybe. Probably.”
My eyebrow quirked. My lips twitched. For some reason, I found myself amused more than annoyed. How had I forgotten, so very very quickly, what it was like working for him?
“Are you fucking with me?” I asked, deadpan.
But he could feel me past my tone of voice.
“You’re in an awfully good mood.” His voice shifted from cagey to significantly more amused. “Should your husband be made aware of why? Is this all because you remembered how much you hate sitting through endless, one-on-one whining sessions with rich pricks? And that no one was putting a gun to your head, making you do it?”
I rolled my eyes, but he wasn’t exactly wrong.
“I want to go house-hunting,” I informed him. “Somewhere beachy. I was hoping to do that soonish. Like this weekend. Or tonight. Will this new job interfere with that?”
There was a silence.
I felt shock in his light… brief, tangible… followed by an unmistakeable flood of warmth and affection in my chest and abdomen. That warmth rapidly turned to heat, then an intense fire that made something deep and hard and cold in me begin to melt.
It relaxed me so much, I exhaled in pure relief.
“House hunting… hmm.” He pretended to think about that. “I don’t see why it should interfere with anything work-related, no.” He paused. “So my never-ending hints about buying us a house on the beach have finally paid off? Very interesting, doc. Very very interesting…”
“Yourhints?” I scoffed.
“Yes, mine. I was beginning to think I’d have to handcuff you to my car and drag you around to look at properties I was bookmarking on Zillow.”
“Sounds far-fetched,” I noted.
“Maybe.” He grunted. “So the beach works for you, then? Possibly a swimming pool? I’d like the option to gawk at my wife in a bikini in private.”
“That sounds… acceptable,” I conceded. “Possibly. So you’re going with me, I take it?” I asked, my voice mock inquisitive. “On this theoretical house hunt?”
“I wasn’t aware it was theoretical,” he scoffed. “And of course I’m going. I fully intend to browbeat you into giving me my way on every particular.”
I snorted a laugh. “So Ishouldgo alone? Is that what you’re telling me? Is this all a sneaky way to get out of dealing with real estate agents?”
“Unforgivable,” he said haughtily. “No. And absolutely not.”
There was another silence.
Black cleared his throat.
“So… you’re really in?” he asked. “For the job? Should I put you on the roster?”
I couldn’t help but hear the hopeful note in his voice. At the same time, I could tell my good mood was infecting him, which felt really nice, damn it, after weeks of worrying I was infecting him in the exact opposite direction.
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