"Penelope, if you ask me for details about public bathroom sexcapades, I swear I will throw these shards back in the trash."
She rolls her eyes, not missing a beat as she sets pieces into an organizational pattern only she understands. "Okay." Picking up a piece of a cherub's head, she sighs. "Your boyfriend has terrible taste. Of all the styles, he likes this?"
"Naked angel babies and flowers. Yep. That's why I called it butt-fugly."
"Still didn't deserve to die such an ignominious death, Nicole."
I bite my tongue, resisting the urge to argue about the vase's fate. My fingers work methodically, sorting through the ceramic carnage. Shards of cherubs and flowers pile up, a graveyard of tacky porcelain.
Penelope's hands move with surprising grace, piecing together fragments like some shattered vase puzzle master. Her brows pull together in concentration, eyes darting between pieces. It's mesmerizing, watching order emerge from chaos.
"There," she murmurs, fitting two chunks of a cherub's wing together. "Who knew your temper tantrum would turn into arts and crafts night?"
I snort, handing her a piece that looks like it might belong to a flower stem. "Oh, yeah. Super great. If I'd known destroying Scott's stuff would be this entertaining, I might have done it sooner." My sarcasm bounces right off her as she continues on, unaffected.
At least someone's having fun.
Penelope's lips quirk. "Speaking of entertainment, you hitting up the bar this weekend? Hunt down your McSexy for round two?"
My stomach drops. The memory of Logan's piercing gaze in that conference room floods back, heat rising to my cheeks. "About that..."
Her head jerks up.
"Spill it, d'Armand. You've got that 'I did something naughty' look."
I grimace. "I saw him. At work. Today."
The cherub's head Penelope's holding slips from her fingers, clattering to the floor and miraculously not breaking into further ruin. Her jaw drops. "No. Fucking. Way."
"Way."
"Details. Now." She leans forward, eyes gleaming. "And don't you dare skimp on the juicy bits."
I groan, pulling my knees to my chest and burying my face in them. "It was a disaster, Pippa. First off, he was my two-o'clock appointment."
"You're kidding."
"I wish."
"So, what happened? Did you jump his bones in the supply closet?"
I swat her arm. "No! Jesus. It was awkward as hell. He waltzed into the conference room like he owned the place, all smug and infuriatingly hot, and kept flirting."
One elegant eyebrow rises, indicating she doesn't see the problem.
"I was at work, Penelope. Work. Professional career woman, remember?"
"And?"
"And nothing. I had to tell him to stop jerking me around and pretended I'd never met him before. You know, professional faces on, discuss the parameters of the job instead of thinking about how his hands felt on my—" I cut myself off, face burning.
Penelope cackles. "Oh, this is too good. Nicole d'Armand, ice queen of anti-magic security, gets hot and bothered by her afternoon appointment list."
"Don't laugh," I warn her. "Then he went into Scott's office to complain, and everyone wanted to know what was going on. You know what the top circulating rumor is?"
"I can guess."
Groaning, I smack my forehead against my knees. "Nicole brought her new lover to work, and he went to beat up Scott on her behalf. How scandalous. The Ice Queen is a cheating whore."
"No." Her eyes widen in horror. "You're the cheater?"
"Yep. I'm the cheater." A long sigh escapes my lungs. "Not a single person thought it was the other way around."
"Correct them all! Out his cheating, lying, horny little beta dick. Tell them how much he sucks in bed and how bad you feel for his new slut."
"It's work. I can't just go around bad-mouthing my boss at work." Twisting my lips in frustration, I add, "Just another reason you should never date a coworker."
"So glad I'm the boss. If I fuck any of my employees, at least they'll be the ones screwed in the workplace." Penelope pauses, then laughs. "Oh, I like that pun."
Gently tossing a piece of porcelain her way, I roll my eyes. "You say things like that, but you're still a virgin. Even I've had more action than you, and that's saying something."
"Hey. I just don't want to start my illustrious career in slutting it up with mediocre sex, okay? I want the wham, the bam, and the thank you ma'am to shake my world."
I open my mouth to fire back at Penelope, but a thunderous pounding on my door cuts me off. A groan escapes my lips as I recognize the all-too-familiar rhythm of Scott's knocking.
He acts like he's a cop out to serve a warrant or something. It's always driven me insane.
"Why does he have to be such a fuckface?" Penelope scowls, her eyes narrowing at the door.
I rub my temples, feeling a headache brewing. "I'm going to have to rip those engineers a new one. Their prototype is absolute shit."
"No kidding." Penelope nods in agreement. "What good is a shifter ward if he can still bang on your door like a deranged woodpecker?"
Another round of pounding assaults my ears, and I grimace. The sound reverberates through my skull, each impact a reminder of the mess my life has become.
"Want me to answer it?" Penelope offers, already half-rising from the floor.
I wave her off, shaking my head. "No, it's not your problem to deal with."
My friend's face softens, concern etching her features. "Nicole, you don't have to face him alone."
"I know," I sigh, pushing myself to my feet. "You help me if he barges in here, okay?"
"Got it." She smacks her chest with a wink. "Don't worry. I have just the hex for that."
I don't even want to know.
The pounding continues, growing more insistent. I take a deep breath, steeling myself for the confrontation ahead. My fingers curl into fists at my sides, nails digging into my palms.
"I swear to all that is unholy, if you don't stop trying to break down my door, I'll call the cops!"
The banging ceases abruptly, replaced by a voice that is very distinctly not Scott.
"Nicole, we need to talk."