Whispered Curses

"Yes," Eric said, "But throw a half shot of Kahlúa into Eden’s to steady her nerves."

Andrea chuckled, nodding. "No problem."

"Then if you could please grab my laptop from the back closet drawer, we’re going to have to get to work."

"Certainly, sir."

Eric turned to me and said, "I'd like you to stay buckled in at all times, okay?"

I nodded, as he unfastened his belt and went to get my shoulder bag from the front closet. I’d never had anyone be so protective of me.

We were soon set up on our tray tables, in our own weird mobile office, as Andrea brought the coffee.

“Set your phone three hours ahead now,” he suggested. “It’s nearly nine here, so it’s six am Vancouver time. Better to do it now to reset your brain.”

“Oh right, thanks.” I fussed with my phone, relieved that he’d think of that. I guess he was a lot more accustomed to traveling than I was. It was also sweet to feel so cared for, like he was looking out for me.

"What assignments do you have due today?" Eric asked.

I rolled my eyes. "I'm nearly done an essay, but I don't know if I have the attention span to proofread it on a plane."

"Is it okay to have someone else proofread it? It's just for typos really, right?"

"Yes."

Eric grabbed his phone. "What's your email?"

I told him, shocked at how fast his thumbs flew across the screen. Then he grabbed my laptop, typing a note. "That's Lesley’s email. She’s one of my interns. Send your essay to her. She can proof it, fix any typos, then forward it straight to your professor, or whatever you like."

I started to protest, but he held up his hand. "Patricia and I have been desperate to try to find enough projects to keep two interns busy this month. There's just been a lull in the workload. So this is actually extremely convenient for me."

I tried to raise an eyebrow suspiciously but just burst into giggles. "You are like a genie who grants wishes,” I laughed.

"Sure, you can call me Gene if you want to. Just get writing." He snapped his fingers briskly. "Twenty minutes of hard work, then we get a fabulous breakfast as a reward."

Opening up the documents I needed, I took a sip of coffee, then shook my head. "I can't believe I have an assistant on standby to help with my essay. I feel so completely spoiled."

Eric nudged my shoulder with his. "Many hands make light work, and all that," he said. "Hell, how do you think I found out which bar

in the city serves a Blue Beach?"

My head swiveled, staring at him. "You had your interns stalk me?"

His eyes flew wide as if he realized he may have made a mistake. "No, not you. Not anything personal about you. Just, you know, which place happened to serve that drink," he said lamely.

I froze. What the blazes does one say to that?

His eyes tightened and he looked extremely worried. Still looking at me, he picked up his pen. "Psst," he hissed. "Do you think she'll believe that I really needed a project for the interns that day?"

He cocked his head as if listening, then nodded. "I know. It sounds really awful. But I'm trying to make up for it now. Do you think that counts?" He paused, nodding. "Only time will tell. Yeah, you're probably right. Best to just get back to work and pretend that didn't happen."

Eric nodded again, then slowly turned back to his own laptop, opening what seemed to be a highly secure email program.

I laughed, shaking my head, as I tried to focus on my work.

Yet it was hard to put that aside. True, I had freaked out and not answered his messages, and he had no other clues to find me. But should a man really track a woman down like that?

It was in a public place, and they were lots of people around. Everyone has heard horror stories of creepers showing up at their apartment door, or their back window. Eric had come to me at my local pub, simply asking to chat for a moment.