Page 30 of Bad Luck Vampire

“Oh.” He frowned.

Sophie hesitated. Lunch with Alasdair would mess up her plans to make up for leaving early the day before, but with him standing there looking incredibly handsome and smelling so damned amazing, her good intentions were slipping a bit. She could always go out for an hour lunch and work later to make up the time.

Decision made, she gave a small nod and slid the card back into the envelope as she asked, “So there was supposed to be an invitation to lunch on the card?”

Alasdair smiled faintly. “Who me? Invite you to lunch through a card and then not even think to call and verify that you were all right with it?” he asked with wry good humor, and then shook his head. “Never. But since I am here, I would be delighted to take you to lunch. If you are free?”

A short laugh slid from her lips, and then she affected a blasé voice and said, “Well... since you’re here... I guess we could do that.”

They smiled at each other briefly, and then Sophie retrieved her purse, snatched her phone off the papers it was lying on, and walked around her desk to join him. “I only have an hour for lunch. Where were you thinking of going?”

“Actually, I do not know this area well,” he admitted solemnly as he opened her door. “Mayhap you could suggest somewhere?”

“This is nice.”

Sophie glanced around from shrugging out of her jacket and raised her eyebrows at that comment. They were at a Swiss Chalet, about a five-minute walk from her office. She’d chosen it because it was convenient . . . and because Megan hated Swiss Chalet so she’d been relatively certain she wouldn’t run into her coworkers there and be forced into explanations and introductions.

Smiling with amusement at Alasdair now, she commented, “You make it sound like you’ve never been to a Swiss Chalet.”

“I haven’t,” he admitted.

Sophie was blinking over that announcement, finding it hard to believe anyone could have just never been in one of the franchises at some point in their life. It was known for its rotisserie chicken and chalet sauce, something many people found addictive. There had to be at least nine of them in the Greater Toronto Area. Worried now that he hadn’t ever been to one because—like Megan—he didn’t care for their food offerings, she opened her mouth to ask and then paused as their waitress arrived at their table.

Letting the question go for now, she requested an iced tea, and then turned her attention to her menu as Alasdair asked for the same.

It wasn’t until their waitress returned with their drinks and they’d given their food order that she then got back to the subject.

“Why have you never been to a Swiss Chalet?”

After a hesitation, he simply said, “I haven’t been in Toronto long.”

“How long?”

“A week or so.”

Sophie’s eyes widened slightly. She knew he worked with Tybo, but hadn’t realized he hadn’t worked in the city long. He must have transferred to Toronto from somewhere else, she supposed. And obviously somewhere small enough not to have a Swiss Chalet.

“Where were you before Toronto?” she asked with interest.

“I was at Shady Pines for a few weeks before coming to Toronto.”

Sophie recognized the name of the golf course where the wedding had been held, but couldn’t imagine it had its own police station. Perhaps he’d been vacationing there or something, she thought, and asked, “And before that?”

“I’ve lived and worked in New York for dec—” He paused momentarily with his mouth open on that last unfinished word, and then closed it and cleared his throat before substituting, “years.”

That made her sit back and eye him suspiciously. “I thought you were a policeman like Tybo?”

“I work with Tybo, yes,” he agreed.

“So, were you a police officer in New York too?” she asked, trying to understand how a policeman in New York could end up working in Toronto. She was pretty sure they couldn’t just be transferred from the US to Canada. That wasn’t how things worked. At least, she didn’t think so.

“Colle and I worked in Enforcement in New York as well,” Alasdair admitted, and then changed the subject and asked, “What made you get into IT?”

Sophie scowled slightly, dissatisfied with not being able to find out how he’d managed to work as a police officer in Toronto so quickly. She would have thought that they’d be expected to take some sort of course or something to ensure they knew the different Canadian laws as opposed to the American ones, but maybe that wasn’t the case. Maybe being a police officer in New York was considered good enough and they just handed them a gun and a badge and sent them on their way.

Shaking her head, she let the matter go for now and said, “I don’t know. I just like computers. Always have. I find them challenging, and I love new technology, learning the next language, the next program.” She smiled faintly. “My training is in coding and networks. The job I presently have is kind of...” She paused and frowned, not wanting to be insulting to her boss, who was basically like a father to her. Finally, she said, “Really, I’m not utilizing all my skills at my present job. I was hired because Mr. Tomlinson, my boss, wanted to switch to new computers and a more efficient system. He wanted me to set it up. I was fresh out of university and happy to help for a month or two before looking for a job more suitable to my training. But once the new system was up and running, he wanted me to stay. He doesn’t really need me. At least not full-time. There are the occasional issues, but mostly I just do minor things like help people reset passwords, or clear out viruses and stuff, and when I run out of things like that, I help out coworkers with paperwork and stuff like that.”

“You do not seem happy when you talk about it,” he commented with concern.

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