Tattle Tail Read online

  Her mother told her this was a casual meal and that her regular work wardrobe would be acceptable. They had very different opinions on casual.

  Peaceable tugged on the front of her blouse, wishing she had worn something that did not wrinkle so easily. Too late now.

  Across the room, she saw Lord Resolve, but not her mother.

  Oh no.

  This was a setup. Her mother swore it wasn’t, but there sat Lord Resolve at the table. Alone. Looking particularly distinguished in a fine, tailored suit.

  She took a step back, ready to flee.

  Seeming to sense her presence, Lord Resolve looked up from the paper menu. His gaze immediately landed on her. The older male cut a striking figure. Silver streaked his hair, and his stripes had faded with age on his face. The signs of maturity gave him an air of experience and vitality.

  No one could claim that Lord Resolve was not a handsome male. If Peaceable had to describe her ideal partner, she’d describe someone who shared those qualities with Lord Resolve but was not actually Lord Resolve.

  Peaceable’s tail stilled, keeping close to her legs, as she approached the table. He rose, his tail lazily waving behind him, and embraced her in greeting.

  She stood stiffly, unsure how to extricate herself from this mess.

  “I thought my mother wished to discuss plans for the New Year’s party,” she said, her voice a tad louder than intended.

  As she sat down, the comm unit vibrated again with another message. She looked without thinking and regretted her choice.

  Joseph sent a photo of himself—shirtless, because of course he took his shirt off—holding up the blue shirt with a confused expression on his face.

  Which was just his normal face.

  She flipped the comm unit over, screen side down.

  “Tolerance did not tell you?” Lord Resolve asked. “She is unable to come.”

  “She did not.” Setup or not, her mother changing plans at the last moment was typical.

  An uncomfortable silence fell between them.

  The comm unit vibrated with another message. Peaceable grabbed the device and tapped out a message furiously. She did not want to think of Joseph out on his hot date or the feelings of jealousy roiling in her gut. He had hot dates, and she had this, whatever this was.

  “Wear the sweater with the flashing stars,” she wrote.

  “That’s terrible advice.”

  “Then you will be sure that the female is attracted to you and not your ability to have others pick your clothes.” Her lips twitched because it was a good insult, not because she enjoyed herself.

  Gross. Imagine.

  Lord Resolve cleared his throat.

  “Apologies,” she said, still holding the comm unit. “I am on a lunch break, but I am expected to be available.” Technically true, but a demanding employer was not the current source of her vexation.

  “Your mother tells me you have an important position at CayneTech.”

  “I am Winter Cayne’s assistant.” That position originally meant assisting in product development, but in the last two years had morphed into administration.

  “Only an assistant.” He smiled as though the information pleased him.

  “I work directly with the owner of the company and have several employees under my supervision,” she clarified. “My original position was in quality control, running checks on tech specifications.”

  “And Winter Cayne promoted you.”

  His tone bothered her, detecting a subtle insult in his words. Unfortunately, she had encountered this before from males who doubted her qualifications. They subtly—and not so subtly—implied that any success in her career was based on her physical attractiveness and not skill. Worse, they often felt the need to explain simple facts about her field to her.

  Malesplaining. How tiresome.

  Ears back, she said, “I earned my promotion.”

  Another incoming message stole her attention.

  “You have a good eye for color and style. I value your opinion. Please, blue or green?” Joseph wrote.

  “Green. It complements your eyes,” she wrote, then deleted. He did not need to know that she had contemplated his eye color, because she had not. She could barely describe his hazel eyes.

  Eventually, she wrote, “Green.”

  Peaceable gave a weak smile to Lord Resolve and set the device down again, determined to ignore it. He gave a strained smile in return.

  This is going great. Mother will be so pleased. She could only imagine the tongue-lashing her mother would give her when she found out that she ignored Lord Resolve to respond to an annoying male’s bothersome messages.

  She studied the menu to hide her irritation. This was typical of her mother, always playing matchmaker and springing suitors on an unsuspecting Peaceable. And Lord Resolve, of all people.

  What did her mother think would happen? That Peaceable would overcome a lifetime of shyness and awkwardness to charm a male into loving her?

  Her fingers worried at the edges of the menu.

  No, Tolerance expected that Peaceable having known Lord Resolve since she was a kit would put her at ease. It was thoughtful and unsettling all at once. In Peaceable’s mind, Lord Resolve was an uncle. One she had not seen in a decade, but still an uncle.

  She set the menu down and said, “I know what she is doing, and I do not like it.”

  His ears twitched forward. “And what is that?”

  “Matchmaking. I am not interested. Forgive my rudeness.”

  Peaceable folded her arms over her chest. A sneeze would have been a more dramatic way to make her lack of interest clear, but such an insult would be too harsh. Despite not having seen him since she was a kit, she remembered him fondly. He had helped her parents when they fled Talmar and sponsored them for citizenship on Corra. He was practically family.

  He smiled, tail still waving in amusement. “I appreciate your frankness. Then let me be perfectly honest: I have very little interest in taking another mate, but I find myself in need of an heir.”

  His mate passed away some years ago, Peaceable recalled. It had been a loving union, though Peaceable’s memories of the female were faint.

  A waiter arrived. Having missed her opportunity to leave, she ordered a light meal. Lord Resolve did the same.

  “An heir?” Peaceable asked once the waiter departed.

  “How closely do you follow the political climate on Talmar?” he asked.

  “Not at all,” she admitted. Her parents were very much concerned about the old world, but she had spent all her life on Corra, or nearly all of it since she was a toddler. Corra was home.

  “My title and estate have been restored.” He gave a much put-upon sigh as if the restoration of his inheritance was the last thing he desired.

  Peaceable searched her memory for any clues that her mother may have dropped in conversation. Lord Resolve had no children. “You have a nephew. Is he not your heir?”

  He made a dismissive noise. “That worthless male. No, he is unsuitable. Gambles and has a nasty temper. I do not care what he does with my credits, but the title has responsibilities to the tenants on the estate and the community. I have responsibilities.” He paused as the waiter arrived with two cups of steaming tea. “I can give away my wealth, but the title and the estate are entailed. It will go to him unless I produce a new heir.”

  “Is adoption a possibility?”

  “Not when there is a blood relative. It is a frustrating piece of legal antiquity.”

  Peaceable turned over this information. “Wouldn’t it be easier to train him to be suitable, rather than make an entirely new person and hope they are suitable?”

  “That male cannot change his stripes.” His ears went back in agitation. “So, you must forgive my bluntness. I cannot offer you a love match, but you are intelligent and attractive. I do feel fondness for you. I think we will be well suited.”

  “I see—”

  He continued, speaking over her, “I k
now you like to tinker and…” He waved a hand, unable to put what he thought she did into words. “I would not interfere with that until you become pregnant. Then I must insist that you rest and cease to work. A healthy kit is of utmost importance.”

  “But how—”

  “I will require faithfulness, if only so that the legitimacy of the heir cannot be questioned. My nephew is exactly the sort to drag old grudges through the courts. I know there are considerable years between us, but I believe I can keep a healthy young female like yourself satisfied.”

  To his credit, he did not sound like a lecherous old male when he said those revolting words. If anything, he sounded bored, as if listing the terms of a contract.

  And Peaceable understood that the marriage he offered would be little more than a contract.

  Her mother knew all this, Peaceable had no doubt. Tolerance sent her daughter straight to a desperate male who needed to produce a kit as quickly as possible.

  Because she believed it to be a good match or because she thought Peaceable would be desperate enough to accept a mating that was little more than a business transaction? Peaceable did not know.

  Was she foolish for wanting a love match? To be wanted because her partner valued her for herself, perhaps even liked her, and not for her ability to produce a kit?

  Some desires were impossible, it seemed.

  Acting as if he realized his misstep, Lord Resolve reached for her hand across the table. His palm felt clammy against hers. “Forgive my inelegant proposal. No doubt you wish to be courted and wooed.”

  She pulled her hand away, picking her next words carefully. “I appreciate your bluntness, but I must decline your offer.”

  He took rejection with grace and dignity, sipping his tea as if nothing was amiss.

  “Is it the age difference?” he finally asked.

  “No,” she said, perhaps a bit too hastily. He looked unconvinced. She added, “You are very attractive, but I’ve known you since I was a kit. I do not regard you in that manner.”

  This was mortifying. Peaceable wished for some way to make her mother pay for this agony.

  “Is there no persuading you?”

  Her ears went flat. “No.”

  “Is there another?”

  She wanted to say yes, to spare the male’s pride. Instead, she chose to be truthful. “There is not,” she said.

  Unfortunately. Joseph’s bare chest sprang to mind, which was not what she needed. Attractive and arrogant, he was wrong for her in every way possible.

  Her comm vibrated with an incoming message. Without looking, she slipped the device into her bag.

  “You smile. Who has been messaging you?” Lord Resolve asked.

  “A nuisance.”

  He did not look convinced.

  “A co-worker. He is…what he is.” She was desperate, but not that desperate. She said, “If I had a suitor, a boyfriend as the humans called it, Mother would get off my tail.”

  She had experimented with the Celestial Mates dating app, but the results had been less than spectacular.

  Lord Resolve blinked at her salty tone, then snorted with laughter. “She is persistent.”

  “She should change her name to Tenacious,” Peaceable said, earning another laugh. The awkward tension at the table vanished, and she rather enjoyed her meal.

  “Are you interested in, ah, companionship?” Lord Resolve asked in a curious tone. “Not with me. In general, I mean. You were a rather solitary kit, I recall.”

  Peaceable folded the linen napkin and set it down next to her now-empty plate. When her parents grilled her about her romantic life, she’d grown defensive. All Tolerance and Worth, her father, saw was one unsuccessful relationship after another. She wasn’t even sure if her courtships lasted long enough to count as relationships. She had plenty of first dates, but they lacked a vital spark.

  Sharing that with her parents felt like a failure, especially when they compared Peaceable to her brother. Somehow, it felt safe to confide in Lord Resolve.

  “My attempts to find a mate have not been successful, but I remain…” Her voice trailed off. She remained what? Optimistic? Tired? She was tired of the endless first dates and ill-suited matches. “I see little reason to waste time with someone who is not…for me.”

  “Discernment is an admirable quality, but one can be too finicky,” he said. “No one is perfect.”

  “I am aware, and I am not waiting for the perfect male,” she said. She wanted someone interesting, who did not speak down to her and challenged her. So far, all the males she encountered had been dull, condescending, or just plain bizarre. “One male took me to his grandmother’s funeral on the first date.”

  Lord Resolve leaned forward. “He did not.”

  “Another refused to call me by my name,” she said. “I do not know if he had a memory condition or if he was too stubborn to admit a mistake.”

  He laughed again, then flagged the waiter to order wine for the table. “After my mate passed, every one of my acquaintances seemed to know a widow who just so happened to be joining us for dinner.”

  “The ambush. A classic hunting technique.” Peaceable accepted the glass of wine. She needed to build up her courage before speaking with her mother; Tolerance would grill her about every detail of her lunch with Lord Resolve.

  “One female, perfectly lovely, was an avid bird enthusiast. It’s all she talked about and insisted on showing pictures of her collection.” He paused, taking a sip. “All stuffed. Not a single living bird to be seen. Absolutely morbid.”

  They traded bad date stories over wine and dessert. This male she liked far more than the male who made an all-business, produce-an-heir proposal. Still, her mother had some explaining to do.

  Joseph

  No response. Typical.

  Joseph buttoned up the green shirt, then checked his reflection in the compact mirror Peaceable pretended not to have from her top right desk drawer. The contents of the drawer were a jumbled mess, in stark contrast to the tidiness of the office. He grinned, charmed at Peaceable’s attempts to hide her inner chaos.

  The compact emitted a fruity, powdery smell that barely hinted at apricots. It was a scent he associated with Peaceable, not that he’d ever admit to sniffing her hair. Or his powder-covered fingers.

  Because he wasn’t weird, and he did not have a thing for her.

  The desk drawer rattled closed when he returned the compact. His hand hovered over the drawer. It would be wrong to snoop but how he’d love to get a bit of dirt on Peaceable. For two years, they’d verbally sparred. His best efforts never seemed to crack her icy exterior, and she knew exactly how to cut his ego down to size.

  It was amazing fun. The way her eyes sparkled just before she delivered a scathing comment, but her face remained perfectly calm, as if bored. Still, her tail danced behind her, making him certain that she enjoyed the game as much as him.

  He spun in the chair to face the window. Kicking his feet up on the windowsill, he admired the view of the courtyard. The fountain had frozen over in the cold and the trees were bare of leaves. Snow blanketed the flowerbeds. In warmer weather, it had to be a hell of a view. Being the assistant to the big boss obviously had its perks.

  He should take the opportunity to rummage through her desk, find some dirt. She had dirt. Everyone did. Some people were just better at hiding it.

  Still, searching her desk while she was out wouldn’t be fair. That’s not how he played the game.

  Joseph swiveled back to the desk and scrawled a message on a color square of paper. “Organic, free trade. Live a little.”

  He placed a shiny piece of foil-wrapped chocolate on the note.

  Peaceable

  Peaceable kicked off her shoes the moment she arrived home. Nettle, her wuap, demanded a tribute of adoration and treats. She stroked the creature’s fur, scratching behind the ears and tugging gently on the feathery tail.

  Returning to work after lunch had been a mistake. She was too wound u
p from her mother’s deception to focus.

  The single piece of chocolate waiting on her desk sent her mind in an entirely different direction. She enjoyed the Earth confection, but the colonies that grew cocoa beans locally often had political turmoil, so she abstained. Somehow, Joseph knew this.

  Between her mother’s schemes and Joseph’s unexpected gesture, productivity was a lost cause. She had finally given the afternoon up as a lost cause and left early, finally using some of her comp time.

  Once home, she had nothing to distract her from the unpleasant task of speaking to her mother.

  She ran a finger over the entryway table, which needed to be dusted. For a moment, she felt the temptation to clean her entire apartment just to delay the inevitable.

  No. It had to be done. Her mother would not stop matchmaking unless Peaceable made it clear that her efforts were unwanted. Even then, it might take more convincing, but it had to be done.

  Unwilling to draw out the pain, she called her mother.

  Tolerance answered immediately, her voice booming over the speakers. “Why is there no visual?”

  Because Peaceable was a terrible liar and her mother would be able to see everything.

  “Weather is interfering with the connection,” she said. Not true at all. CayneTech had the most stable and reliable comm tech in the system.

  Her mother made a disgruntled noise. “I don’t know why I allow you to work out there in the middle of nowhere. You should be in the city where it’s civilized and our comm works all the time.”

  “This is not nowhere.”

  “It’s dangerous.”

  “There hasn’t been a mornclaw sighting in over a year.”

  More disgruntled noises. Peaceable could hear her mother’s tail twitch in irritation. “It was tolerable when you might have married your boss.”

  “Mr. Cayne has always had a mate,” she said. She admired her boss, and she liked his mate. Winter never hurried Peaceable as she tried to untangle her thoughts and explain her ideas. Marigold treated her as a friend, always welcoming.