Damsel Under Stress (Enchanted, Inc. 3)

“And you think my life is what anyone would consider normal?”

“Good point.”

“Look on the bright side: We can only go up from here. We can’t have a worse date than this one.”

I cringed. “Don’t say that. Whenever you say that, it’s like asking the universe to prove you wrong.”

The dry clothes and hair and the hot coffee had warmed me considerably, and I got even warmer when Owen finished his coffee, threw his cup in a nearby trash can, then put his arm around my shoulders. This was turning out to be a pretty good date, after all. We were together, we’d had chocolate, and we were walking through something that felt like a fairyland, with all the Christmas lights twinkling from windows above us.

The Christmas decorations jolted my memory. The holiday was almost upon us, and I’d been too busy to notice it other than as a gift-giving occasion to worry about. “I can’t believe Christmas is right around the corner,” I said. “Why is it that when you’re a kid, it seems to take forever to come, but when you’re an adult, it’s on you before you realize it?”

“We have been pretty busy,” he pointed out.

“Yeah, and I sort of already had Christmas when my parents were here for Thanksgiving, so the day itself is something of an anticlimax for me this year.”

“Do you have anything planned?”

“Not really. I’ll probably do something with my roommates. You’re still going to visit your foster parents?” He was an orphan who’d been brought up by foster parents who’d never adopted him legally, and he’d always had a somewhat distant relationship with them. That explained a lot of his personality quirks.

“Yes, they even invited me. I’m looking forward to it, but I’m trying not to get my hopes up. We’re never going to be the Waltons.”

“Nobody is the Waltons, not even my family, which may be as close as you get.”

We reached the Avenue of the Americas, where cabs came by often enough that it didn’t even require any of Owen’s magic to hail one. Once we were in the cab, the taxi wheels weren’t the only ones turning, as I could tell Owen was already furiously pondering the current puzzle with every cell of his powerful brain. He paid off the driver in front of my building and walked me to the front door, his attention clearly elsewhere. “Thanks for the evening,” I said. “It was certainly memorable.”

“It was, wasn’t it? And thank you for making it pleasant in spite of everything.” He bent forward to give me a quick kiss, then said, “I’ll see you in the morning.” He was gone down the sidewalk before I even had a chance to kiss him back or to turn it into a proper kiss good night, and I was left standing there with my lips slightly puckered.

“I’ll see you in the morning, too,” I muttered under my breath to the thin air where Owen had just been before suppressing a sigh of disappointment. I reminded myself that this sort of thing came with the territory when we had so many other distracting priorities. And, after all, it was only the first date. We’d have plenty of opportunities to intensify things.

When I went down the stairs Monday morning, I felt a familiar flutter in my stomach. Owen had been commuting with me almost every morning since not long after I’d gone to work at MSI, and every morning I’d found myself all atingle with the anticipation of seeing him again. This morning, the first since we’d gone beyond being just friends and co-workers, the tingle was even worse. I’d always known that the main reason he escorted me to work in the morning was that we made a good team for keeping each other safe from our enemies. My magical immunity meant I could spot the bad guys even when they tried to disguise themselves or make themselves invisible. Owen, as a magical person, could be affected by magic and might not notice the danger, but once I alerted him, he could do something about it. He lived a few blocks away from me, so he didn’t have to go too far out of his way to meet up with me, but I’d always hoped that he might have really wanted to spend that time with me in the morning. That had turned out to be the case.

I opened the front door, and the flutter in my stomach became a full-scale hurricane. You’d think that going out with him the night before would have made the anticipation a little less intense, but I was learning that I couldn’t predict my reactions when it came to Owen. He really put me off-kilter.

I couldn’t hold back a huge smile as I emerged onto the front steps, knowing he’d be waiting on the sidewalk. Then the smile slid right off my face, for he wasn’t there. I checked my watch to make sure I wasn’t early—I had been a wee bit eager to see him—but it was the same time we usually met, and even when I was off-schedule one way or another, he always managed to adjust and still be there to meet me. I was beginning to wonder if I should wait for him and for how long when I heard a rough voice say, “You’re the Chandler gal, aren’t you?”

I looked up and down the street, seeing plenty of people on the sidewalk, but nobody who seemed to be talking to me. “Psst, up here,” the voice said. I stepped forward, turned around and craned my neck to see a gargoyle perched on the fire escape above me. It wasn’t Sam or any other gargoyle I’d run into before, but he was probably on the MSI security force.

“I’m Katie Chandler,” I said.

He spread his wings and glided down to sit on top of a nearby parking meter. “Mr. Palmer said to meet you here. He had something come up and had to be at the office early. I’m supposed to make sure you get to work safely.” He spread his wings once more and took off in the direction of the subway station.

I hurried to follow him. “Did something happen?” I asked, out of breath from having to keep up with a flying gargoyle.

“Hey, I’m just a messenger. All I know is what he told me.”

I was worried and disappointed, all at the same time. It had to be something big for him to abandon our daily routine, but it was the second time in just a few days that duty had called him away from time with me. I knew I could expect more of that in the future because of what he was up against, but that didn’t entirely erase the disappointment. At least he’d sent word instead of standing me up, and he’d made sure I’d be protected.

o;Yes, they even invited me. I’m looking forward to it, but I’m trying not to get my hopes up. We’re never going to be the Waltons.”

“Nobody is the Waltons, not even my family, which may be as close as you get.”

We reached the Avenue of the Americas, where cabs came by often enough that it didn’t even require any of Owen’s magic to hail one. Once we were in the cab, the taxi wheels weren’t the only ones turning, as I could tell Owen was already furiously pondering the current puzzle with every cell of his powerful brain. He paid off the driver in front of my building and walked me to the front door, his attention clearly elsewhere. “Thanks for the evening,” I said. “It was certainly memorable.”

“It was, wasn’t it? And thank you for making it pleasant in spite of everything.” He bent forward to give me a quick kiss, then said, “I’ll see you in the morning.” He was gone down the sidewalk before I even had a chance to kiss him back or to turn it into a proper kiss good night, and I was left standing there with my lips slightly puckered.

“I’ll see you in the morning, too,” I muttered under my breath to the thin air where Owen had just been before suppressing a sigh of disappointment. I reminded myself that this sort of thing came with the territory when we had so many other distracting priorities. And, after all, it was only the first date. We’d have plenty of opportunities to intensify things.

When I went down the stairs Monday morning, I felt a familiar flutter in my stomach. Owen had been commuting with me almost every morning since not long after I’d gone to work at MSI, and every morning I’d found myself all atingle with the anticipation of seeing him again. This morning, the first since we’d gone beyond being just friends and co-workers, the tingle was even worse. I’d always known that the main reason he escorted me to work in the morning was that we made a good team for keeping each other safe from our enemies. My magical immunity meant I could spot the bad guys even when they tried to disguise themselves or make themselves invisible. Owen, as a magical person, could be affected by magic and might not notice the danger, but once I alerted him, he could do something about it. He lived a few blocks away from me, so he didn’t have to go too far out of his way to meet up with me, but I’d always hoped that he might have really wanted to spend that time with me in the morning. That had turned out to be the case.