“Yes.”
“For spying on your date?”
“For accompanying me.”
That lands too.
Her lips part again, this time in genuine surprise. “Accompanying you.”
“You heard me.”
“As what, exactly?”
I let my gaze travel over her face, her hair, the soft sweater still hanging off one shoulder from a too-long day. She suddenly seems very aware of every inch of herself under my scrutiny.
“My assistant,” I say.
A pause.
Then, because I can’t help myself, I add, “Try not to look too beautiful. I’d like to give the other woman a chance.”
Her cheeks go pink so fast it’s almost violent.
I take savage satisfaction in it.
“That’s…” She shakes her head, flustered. “That’s not funny.”
“No?”
“No.” But her voice is thin. Breathless.
And we both know she liked it.
I glance at my watch. “You have forty minutes.”
She stands there another second, clearly torn between indignation and obedience, wanting to argue and wanting something else entirely.
Then she lifts her chin. “Fine.”
“Fine,” I echo.
She turns for the door, then spins back once more, eyes narrowed. “And if this becomes weird, I’m blaming you.”
I smirk,“It’s already weird, Zatanna.”
That finally gets a reluctant laugh out of her.
She slips out, and the door closes behind her.
I stand in the silence for a moment, staring at the handle. Then I exhale slowly.
Taking her with me is a bad idea. A reckless one. Possibly the worst one I’ve had all week.
Which is exactly why I know I’m going to enjoy every second of it.
18
ZATANNA
