Page 35 of Assistant to the Villain

“Hello.” Clear warning rang through the hollow edges of the greeting.

Rick sized The Villain up and had the common sense to let the cocky smile slip away. “Oh, hello.”

Her boss couldn’t decide what to do with the hand that was hovering over Evie’s shoulder. She resisted amusement when the arm fell stiffly around her. His lips thinned when Rick tracked the movement.

“Well, Rick, it was delightful seeing you, but you should go,” Evie pressed. “We have lots to do!” The look of scrutiny made her squirm. “Like each other!” She laughed, but she felt her boss jolt under her hands as if she’d slapped him.

Rick coughed before shaking his head and laughing snidely. He started to strut past them but stopped to clap a hand on The Villain’s shoulder. “Good luck.”

Evie felt such waves of embarrassment, she needed to sit. She walked back to the table slowly but whipped around when she heard Rick cry out in pain.

The Villain had his hand around her ex-lover’s shoulder, squeezing so tightly that she could see Rick’s face pinched and frightened as he tried to lean away. “Luckis something you will most certainly need if you ever bother her again.” The dark rasp to his voice sent the hairs on her arms standing on end.

Rick nodded furiously before tripping over himself to move in the other direction.

Evie sat slowly as the barmaid arrived. “Wine, whiskey, rum, whatever you have, bring it.”

“For me as well, whatever she’s having.” The Villain sat with a heavy sigh in the seat beside her.

Pulling a few loose strands of hair behind her back, Evie leaned forward, resting her head on her hands. “Good evening, sir. Thank you for that little rescue back there.”

His eyes widened, and he coughed into his hand. “Good evening, Sage. Don’t…don’t mention it.”

Her brows pushed together in confusion until she noticed his gaze pulled to the ceiling, like he was avoiding looking at her.

“What—” But before she could finish the thought, she remembered how much her dress revealed and pulled herself backward in the seat so hard, she nearly knocked herself over, but the boss reached out quickly to grip her seat, helping the front legs meet the floor once more.

He let go of it as soon as it rested back against the ground on steady legs. “Thank you for assisting me with this. I’m sure you have plenty else to do on the evening of the week’s end.”

Evie snorted. “Sure. Lyssa was going to read me a new novel she’s composing calledTrystan and the Lost Princess.”

“Sounds an intriguing tale.” He grimaced, taking the drinks off the barmaid’s tray and sliding one over to her.

“Oh yes, and then I was going to drink tea and settle down with a real book.” Evie smiled, remembering Lyssa’s sketches of her boss for the cover. Grinning wider when she recalled convincing Lyssa to give him a large, feathered hat.

“What sort of book?” The Villain asked, taking a sip.

“I don’t know. I like romances, usually the dirty ones.” And suddenly he was choking, spraying part of his drink across the table.

He brought another brightly colored handkerchief, this one yellow, to his mouth. “My apologies—I wasn’t prepared for quite such an honest answer.”

She shook her head at him,tsking with disapproval. “And yet you’re fully aware you’re conversing withme.”

He nodded, looking resigned. “Fair point.”

Swallowing a disgusting mouthful of whatever was in the wooden cup, Evie began to search the room. “So where is this elusive tavern owner who daylights as a clockmaker…for bombs?”

“He’ll be here.” His mouth set in a grim line. “He always arrives a few minutes after eight o’clock.”

“You’ve been here before?” she said, voice tinged in surprise.

“No, but my people have.”

Ah, his guards.

“Not that I’m complaining, but what use am I in this situation?” It had been gnawing at her all day. In truth, over the last few months, she’d discovered many hidden talents about herself. Conversing in a social setting was, unsurprisingly, not among them.

“You’vebeen here before,” he said pointedly.