Witch In Charge - Celia Kyle Page 0,7
happy? I can’t lose this position, you know that.”
Ryan shrugged. “He has a reputation for being a real curmudgeon, but if you stay out of trouble, he probably won’t fire you.”
They stared at each other for a few seconds, like two cats daring each other to blink. They burst out laughing at exactly the same time.
“Are you serious? Did you get out an old-timey dictionary to come up with that?”
“Of course not,” Ryan sniffed. “Word-of-the-day calendar.”
“Well, curmudgeon or not, I'd better not keep him waiting.” Kelly reached out and gave Ryan's hand a quick squeeze. “Thanks for helping me move.”
“I didn’t actually agree to help and I haven’t started yet. You may regret asking!”
“Never.” And she meant it. She had precious few men in her life she could count on, so she wanted him to know with certainty how much she appreciated him.
Leaving Ryan to his books, Kelly headed off down the halls. Even though she should have known her way around the labyrinthine building by then, there were so many offices and hallways she had never explored. To make matters worse, the place was deserted at such a late hour so there wasn’t even anyone she could ask for directions.
“Should've asked Ryan,” she muttered to herself. She was really late now, and starting to get nervous she would screw up totally on her first day.
She turned a corner off the main hallway, hoping to find her way back to the foyer where she might find a map or another person. Failing that, Ryan. The hallway looked deserted but, as Kelly started down it, she saw a striking woman in a flowing, gauzy black dress hurrying toward her.
“Hey!” Kelly called, waving. “Hi! Do you work here?”
“No.” The witch shook her head, making her long, impossibly straight black hair undulate in hypnotic waves. Her dark eyes, which were rimmed in a dramatic smoky look, met Kelly's, giving off a hint of guardedness. “I'm a little lost myself.”
Kelly smiled. “At least I'm not the only one. I'm Kelly.”
She extended a hand and the other witch's cold, dry hand reminded her of a dead fish. It was all she could do to subdue the natural shudder that tried to crawl up her spine. Limp handshakes were a bugaboo of Kelly's.
“Kalliope,” the witch said, glancing around as though she were hoping someone would come along and save her from further conversation with Kelly.
“Don't suppose you passed Owyn Stahagan's office by any chance, did you?”
Kalliope's hair undulated again. “Not that I recall. Do you know where to find Ronun Fluevog?”
Kelly thought for a moment. “Isn't that a shoe designer or something?”
Kalliope rolled her eyes. “Never mind.”
Before Kelly could respond, the witch edged around her and strode quickly down the hall without a look back, the heels of her shoes echoing like gunshots. Kelly watched her go, shaking her head.
“What's her deal?”
After spending a second or two puzzling over the woman’s rude behavior, Kelly returned to her search for the correct office. I should have checked this out beforehand. It was one of those idle thoughts full of good advice she seldom followed… or that came too late.
The high ceilings distorted the shadows and dragged the light into lines along the walls. Starlight glinted on the wall carvings and decorations in the hallway, giving Kelly the feeling of walking through an ancient tomb. It didn’t feel gloomy, though. It actually felt very comfortable and kind of familiar.
Just as she was about to give up, she turned into a well-lit hallway. She almost cheered for joy when she realized she wasn’t alone—the hot, sexy security guard from the night before stood by an open door. Lettering on the door proclaimed it belonged to Owyn Stahagan. Thank the goddess!
“Hey.” Kelly tried to sound sultry as she sashayed up to the handsome guard.
No one she'd set her eyes on had ever been able to resist her—and she was proud of the fact she'd never had to use magic to attract them. She was used to getting what she wanted. If the intense vibe she'd sensed from this dude meant anything, he wanted her too. Slipping in a bit closer, she laid her hand on his bulging arm and waited for him to respond.
When he looked up, his eyes were hard, his expression sharp. She immediately snatched her hand back, realizing the intensity radiating off him might not be lust at all. He genuinely seemed pissed at her.
“Timely as ever,” he snapped. He barely looked at her, sweeping his eyes