She seemed bored out of her mind.
I could relate.
These kinds of things were the perfect setting for soft politics and covert power plays; nothing I had an interest in. I already knew what to expect going in—music I didn’t care for, food I wouldn’t touch, all wrapped up in an endless stream of superficial small talk. But skipping these things altogether only made you look worse. So I showed up, smiled when I had to, and counted down the minutes until I could finally slip out unnoticed.
Of course, it seemed that not all of us had this problem.
Naomi was weaving her way through the crowd, arm linked with a man I didn’t recognize. She was a flash of white and red,cheery and festive. At least someone didn’t look like they’d been dragged here against their will, though her good mood might have less to do with the party and more to do with her current companion.
“There you are,” Naomi said, like we were the last piece of some elaborate scavenger hunt. “I’ve been wondering where the two of you were hiding.”
Her cheeks were flushed, whether from alcohol or mischief—or both—I couldn’t tell. Something above our heads caught her attention, and her expression lit up with the kind of glee that usually spelled trouble for everyone involved.
“Well, well, would you look at that…”
Detective Sawyer followed Naomi’s gaze and immediately went rigid. A single sprig of mistletoe dangled directly above us, swaying slightly from the draft of the heat vent.
“No.” Detective Sawyer took a full step back, folding her arms across her chest like a barricade. “Absolutely not.”
Naomi looked delighted. “Shay. Are you rejecting one of the most sacred Christmas traditions?”
“The detective seems to be protesting anything even remotely festive,” I couldn’t help but add, earning myself a sharp glare.
“We are at aworkevent. It’s unprofessional.”
Naomi pressed a hand to her chest, affronted. “Your words cut deep, Shay. I was the one who helped with the decorations.”
“It’s nice,” I said.
“I can tell,” Detective Sawyer added, dryly.
Naomi leaned into her date and pressed a light kiss to his cheek. “There. See? That wasn’t so hard, was it? Seriously, you two…” She shook her head, amused and exasperated in equal measure as she tugged the man forward. “Now, I want you to meet someone. Guys, this is Daniel. Daniel, these are my friends, Detective Shay Sawyer and Doctor Tom Hayes.”
Daniel extended his hand to me first. “Nice to meet you.”
His voice was pleasant, carrying a hint of an accent, though it wasn’t one I could place—something Eastern European, maybe.
“Likewise,” I replied.
Daniel turned to the detective next. “And the legendary Detective Sawyer. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Is that so? Only the flattering parts, I hope.”
“Of course,” Daniel responded with an easy laugh.
The tie he wore matched Naomi’s dress. Not a last-minute invite, then.
“So…” Naomi said as she glanced around the room. “Who are we hiding from?”
“At the moment, Sergeant Cromwell. Try your best not to get cornered into a conversation about retirement plans with him—trust me,” I said, nodding toward the man holding court near the punch bowl.
Detective Sawyer took a thoughtful sip of her wine. “Or the mayor’s latest photo op. It can drag on forhours. On the bright side, there’susually a dance-off before midnight. But whatever you do, don’t let anyone talk you into doing karaoke.”
Naomi nudged her date’s shoulder. “She’s kidding. Karaoke is reserved for Friday nights only.Tom always doesSpringsteen,” she stage-whispered the last part.
“Funny,” I said.
Daniel grinned. “I’ll keep my expectations appropriately high, then.”
