Page 71 of Enticing the Elf
Eventually, they’re all sitting, and more or less quiet, so Dáithí clears his throat. “I’d thank you all for coming, but if it were up to me, none of us would be here.” Even though he appreciates the reasons I’m doing this and sometimes looks at me with heart eyes because of it, there’s still a lot of grudging disgruntlement in his voice.
It makes me smile.
“Anyway, Eoin has completed all the tasks on the list, including the redacted ones, so it’s time to end this once and for all.” He sits back, still holding my hand, while I bask smugly in the knowledge that I managed to complete tasks without even knowing what they were. That’s a special skill.
Caolan stands, smiling beatifically. “If you’ll all turn your attention to the wall,” he gestures toward the end of the table and the expanse of wall above the sideboard, from where a painting has been temporarily relocated. This time, he was determined to be able to show us all his presentation, so he brought a projector with him. Even as we obediently look, he casts a spell to darken the area around the wall and allow the projection to be seen clearly.
“Oooh,” Alistair murmurs appreciatively. “That’s so much cooler than turning the lights off.”
“Before we discuss Eoin’s performance?—”
Snickers and a round of jeers break out, because apparently we’re all just that mature. I smirk. “I’m very proud of my performance, thanks.”
“Me too,” Dáithí says loyally, then winks at me. “Especially?—”
“Dude,” Hagen interrupts. “No. I’m still recovering from all the things I heard when I was his roommate. I don’t need any more trauma to recover from.”
I laugh, because he’s the roommate that caused the trauma. Things were a lot less sticky in the house after he moved out.
“I’m not sure I should be here for this conversation,” Raðulfr says. “This probably falls into the category of things I shouldn’t know about the people who work for me.”
“That’s the category that has all the good stuff in it,” Brandt objects. “We definitely need to be here for this conversation.”
“Anyway,” Caolan says loudly, “before we move on, I’m going to recap the tasks involved in the Summit of Love.”
Dáithí groans at the mention of the name, but I know he’s a tiny bit fond of it, deep down inside. Waaaay deep down. Even if he refuses to say it out loud unless he absolutely has to.
Caolan clicks the thing in his hand that looks like a very boring dildo but isn’t, and the image on the wall changes to a bulleted list. “Plan and execute a series of dates,” he reads. “This was later agreed to be three. Take a shift at Dáithí’s job. Clean Dáithí’s apartment. Surprise Dáithí.” He pauses, then clicks his dildo again. The image changes to show the heading “Redacted Tasks” with nothing beneath it.
I bet he’s trying to build anticipation. Caolan’s always been the dramatic type, in an earnest, understated way. According to rumor, the first time he met his boyfriend, he made a flowery, over-the-top speech about David’s perfection. It’s only gotten worse since he fell in with his new friends.
“And finally,” he declares, voice thrumming with drama, “we can reveal to Eoin the redacted tasks.”
I lean forward. Maybe he’s being over the top, but I can’t deny I’m eager to know what they are. After I told Dáithí I was going to finish the challenge, he refused to tell me on principle, even though according to him it didn’t matter if I knew because he was choosing me anyway. I love it when he’s mean.
Click.
The first item of a bulleted list appears on the wall.Look after a dependent living entity.
I frown, then when the pieces come together, hiss at Dáithí, “Did you adopt Elsking to test me?”
“No, but this task was the prompt that reminded me how much I wanted another pet. I wouldn’t have adopted her otherwise.”
If I didn’t know him so well and hadn’t seen how much he adores her, I’d have serious doubts. “What?—”
“Could we hold all discussion, please?” Alistair interrupts. “We’ll address each task in turn, but it’s important we keep to the agenda.”
Maybe Dáithí was right and we should have called the whole thing off a month ago.
Caolan clicks again, and another bullet point appears.Be responsible for something important to Dáithí.
Yikes. I don’t think I’ve done that. Keeping my face expressionless, I try to catch Ari’s eye, maybe get a hint about what this task actually means, but he’s glaring at the tabletop. He’s been in a rotten mood since the Community Hockey League training camp a few weeks back. Longer, actually—since he went to apologize to Felix Ansas. It probably doesn’t help that the king and Jared decided they wanted to set up an outreach collaboration between the DEA and the Warhammers to get young elves and dragons involved in the sport, and Ari got assigned as liaison until someone else can take over. Technically, it’s a job that falls outside the scope of the security team, but since they wanted to get it started immediately to coincide with the season, nobody from the PR department or Caolan’s projects team was available to spearhead it. Jared suggested that Ari temporarily step into the role, with support from PR, until workloads could be reshuffled… and neither Ari nor I could think of a reason to refuse.
Admittedly, I didn’t try very hard. Dáithí asked me not to. I’m not sure what that’s about, but I hope to find out soon.
The dildo clicks again, and the heading changes to The Dates, a table appearing below. It’s divided into three columns, each containing a bulleted list. Caolan must really like those. The lists are headed Baseball, Club, and Hiking.
“Let’s begin with the first date,” Caolan says as I read the points in each list. “I’ve included the top-level feedback you all provided, but this is our chance to discuss it in detail.”