Page 60 of Sigils & Spells

“Ah, no,” I groaned. “I, um…” I couldn’t do it. I was a grown ass woman, and Merle Armitage had me acting like some kind of teenager with a crush.

“I wanted to follow up on those documents I delivered the other week. Did you need to return anything?” What the hell was I doing? Offering to come pick up books he needed to return? I wasn’t some kind of Archive pick-up and delivery service. No, wait, I was actually.

“That is kind of you to check, but I am still in the thick of this problem. Did someone need one of the tomes?”

I shook my head. Not that he could see. “No, no, I just thought I’d check. Okay, you have a good day.”

I practically slammed the receiver down on the cradle. What the glorious fuck happened? I wanted to fold in on myself. That had been nothing short of humiliating. Maybe he would be absent-minded enough to not realize that call had been completely out of character.

At least I hadn’t had any witnesses to my embarrassment. I turned to my computer and tried to focus on answering email inquiries instead of dwelling on being a moron. A dweeb. A fool. An idiot to think Merle had really been serious when he kissed me.

I cringed. Why did he make me feel and respond like I was fifteen and asking a boy out for the first time? Right, because my feelings for him were somehow important to me. He was important to me.

My phone intercom buzzed, and then Claudette’s voice announced that I had a call on line one.

“This is Pandora, how can I help you?” At least I was capable of functioning. That alone showed that I had made great strides since I was fifteen. Back then I would have still been crying over the rejection, now I just internalized my feelings of inadequacy.

“Pandora.”

My insides flipped and twisted. I closed my eyes and allowed myself a moment of enjoying what Merle’s voice did to me. And then I shut all of that down behind a steel door. I opened my eyes and braced myself against the dulcet, panty melting tones his vocal cords made from air and vibrations.

Maybe vibration wasn’t the right visual to have given myself.

“Dr. Armitage,” I choked out.

“Merle,” he corrected, and I melted. Defenses be damned. “I realize that I didn’t call when I said I would. And that maybe that’s what your earlier call was actually about.”

I made positive grunting sounds. Merle spoke with smooth confidence, and I was instantly reduced to a caveman vocabulary.

He chuckled. “I would very much like to take you out.”

I licked my lips and squirmed in my chair. He had done it, and I was wiggling like I had a tail to wag around.

“I would like that.”

“I know we don’t have a lot of options, but would it be all right with you if we stayed in town?”

“Sure. I’m good with burgers, unless you’d rather something else,” I said. “But maybe not fried chicken.”

“What do you have against fried chicken? Don’t let that knitting circle of yours know, or they’ll run you out of town,” he chuckled.

How the hell did he know that I had started crocheting with the ladies at the Guild? I shook my head. This was a small town. He could have seen me through the big picture window. Claudette could have told him.

“Fine, no fried chicken.”

“I can meet you at The Cellar,” I suggested.

“I’d like to come pick you up. Like a real date. If that’s okay with you?”

Okay? I couldn’t remember the last time a man asked me on a date and insisted on picking me up instead of meeting. “That sounds lovely. What time? Do you know where I live?”

“Yeah, I know where you live. Apartment B, in the back, right?”

“Have you been stalking me?”

“Not intentionally. I’ll pick you up at seven?”

I bit my lip and blushed. Only the stacks of magazines and books that surrounded me witnessed my exuberance.

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