Read Online Malcolm and Ives 02 - Trouble With Air and Magic by Patricia Rice - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Patricia Rice
Tags: Romance, Contemporary, Paranormal, Mystery, Feng Shui, California, psychic, geek, Malcolm, Ives
Ads: Link
relatives infiltrating every layer of society was like having a private detective agency at her fingertips. She was ready when Conan returned after leaving Fred Liu checking out the exits. Toto sniffed his shoes, then wagged his tail hopefully.
“We’re wasting Fred’s time and your money if I can’t give him access to personnel files,” Conan said, settling into the uncomfortable folding chair to scratch Toto’s head.
She was getting used to Conan’s bluntness. She wasn’t quite as used to his blatant masculinity. He looked good in that blazer, but the black knit polo stretching across his chest looked better. Even clothes couldn’t stifle all the male pheromones bouncing off the walls of her father’s office.
How the devil was she supposed to explain how she knew things to a man who clearly only understood computers? She was pretty amazed that he hadn’t laughed in her face about Fred’s arrow of hostility, which was the only reason she was still speaking to him.
“Without going into all the annoying details of which high school he attended, who he married, and where his sister lives,” she continued, not showing her irritation, “my aunt says Fred used to work for one of my father’s realty firms. He was fired because he talked too much, which probably means Fred told one of his family about a good deal my father was after and they got there first. My father always got his Irish up when my mother’s family knew all his business, but at least they were family. Fred isn’t.” She shoved the annotated reference file across the desk at him.
Looking properly puzzled, Conan donned his black-rimmed glasses to scan her hieroglyphic scribbling. Really, her family was as difficult to explain as her semi-psychic abilities—and that was just their normal professional knowledge. If she enlightened them on Ling paranormal powers, he’d walk out laughing. She hadn’t been oblivious to his amusement yesterday.
She preferred admiring the scholarly expression on this steaming hunk of male. The combination devastated her libido. She almost voiced her disappointment when he returned his glasses to his pocket.
He tossed the file back to her desk. “So you’re saying you can’t hire Fred because your father fired him, and now Fred resents you or the foundation or some other shit?”
She wondered if he’d quit if she agreed, but she didn’t intend to find out. Much as she hated to admit it, Conan was her only hope.
“I’m saying Fred’s anger is an honest reaction,” she said, “and if he ever did anything to harm me or mine, he knows my family and knows he’s a dead man, so hire him.”
Conan ran a callus-roughened hand through his shaggy hair, scratched his head, then stretched his long legs across her carpet as if he were settling in to pick her brains. She did admire his curiosity.
“Your family is some kind of Mafia?”
Dorrie smiled at the idea of Grandmother Ling as Mafia. “Something like that, except they’re so honest they’d make Abe Lincoln cringe. My mother’s family is a matriarchy of legendary power. They know everything, sometimes even before the person involved knows it.”
“You’re saying they’re psychic?” he asked warily.
He was remarkably willing to expect oddities. Interesting. And promising. Could she tell him about Bo’s GPS abilities?
“Not precisely,” she hedged, unwilling to reveal the full extent of her family’s weirdnesses until she could trust him. “My mother was a feng shui expert. I have an aunt who is a phenomenal success as a chef, another who makes perfumes, one of my cousins is a dedicated county prosecutor, and my family pretty much swears that my grandmother can read minds. She’s pretty spooky, but her wide network of friends is probably a better explanation. When we want to be, we are our own Internet.”
“What do food and perfume have to do with the Internet?” he asked in genuine puzzlement.
She knew he’d never believe her, so she
“We’re wasting Fred’s time and your money if I can’t give him access to personnel files,” Conan said, settling into the uncomfortable folding chair to scratch Toto’s head.
She was getting used to Conan’s bluntness. She wasn’t quite as used to his blatant masculinity. He looked good in that blazer, but the black knit polo stretching across his chest looked better. Even clothes couldn’t stifle all the male pheromones bouncing off the walls of her father’s office.
How the devil was she supposed to explain how she knew things to a man who clearly only understood computers? She was pretty amazed that he hadn’t laughed in her face about Fred’s arrow of hostility, which was the only reason she was still speaking to him.
“Without going into all the annoying details of which high school he attended, who he married, and where his sister lives,” she continued, not showing her irritation, “my aunt says Fred used to work for one of my father’s realty firms. He was fired because he talked too much, which probably means Fred told one of his family about a good deal my father was after and they got there first. My father always got his Irish up when my mother’s family knew all his business, but at least they were family. Fred isn’t.” She shoved the annotated reference file across the desk at him.
Looking properly puzzled, Conan donned his black-rimmed glasses to scan her hieroglyphic scribbling. Really, her family was as difficult to explain as her semi-psychic abilities—and that was just their normal professional knowledge. If she enlightened them on Ling paranormal powers, he’d walk out laughing. She hadn’t been oblivious to his amusement yesterday.
She preferred admiring the scholarly expression on this steaming hunk of male. The combination devastated her libido. She almost voiced her disappointment when he returned his glasses to his pocket.
He tossed the file back to her desk. “So you’re saying you can’t hire Fred because your father fired him, and now Fred resents you or the foundation or some other shit?”
She wondered if he’d quit if she agreed, but she didn’t intend to find out. Much as she hated to admit it, Conan was her only hope.
“I’m saying Fred’s anger is an honest reaction,” she said, “and if he ever did anything to harm me or mine, he knows my family and knows he’s a dead man, so hire him.”
Conan ran a callus-roughened hand through his shaggy hair, scratched his head, then stretched his long legs across her carpet as if he were settling in to pick her brains. She did admire his curiosity.
“Your family is some kind of Mafia?”
Dorrie smiled at the idea of Grandmother Ling as Mafia. “Something like that, except they’re so honest they’d make Abe Lincoln cringe. My mother’s family is a matriarchy of legendary power. They know everything, sometimes even before the person involved knows it.”
“You’re saying they’re psychic?” he asked warily.
He was remarkably willing to expect oddities. Interesting. And promising. Could she tell him about Bo’s GPS abilities?
“Not precisely,” she hedged, unwilling to reveal the full extent of her family’s weirdnesses until she could trust him. “My mother was a feng shui expert. I have an aunt who is a phenomenal success as a chef, another who makes perfumes, one of my cousins is a dedicated county prosecutor, and my family pretty much swears that my grandmother can read minds. She’s pretty spooky, but her wide network of friends is probably a better explanation. When we want to be, we are our own Internet.”
“What do food and perfume have to do with the Internet?” he asked in genuine puzzlement.
She knew he’d never believe her, so she
Similar Books
