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“Well, I’ll make her a special bag of treats, in case you decide to drop by tonight,” I say as I slip back behind the counter, feeling a little safer with something between us. Not that he’s about to try anything. It’s me. He’s just so lovely to look at that I’m afraid I might do something embarrassing, like swoon or accidentally on purpose brush against that fine, tight ass. And I don’t ever do anything like that. I’ve turned into a freak. I’m going to have to fire him. I almost start to laugh again but force myself to stop because cackling over nothing is definitely a freak move and I do actually need the help.
I open the register and peer in at the pile of little receipts. Oh lord, there’s one for two thousand dollars. I know we didn’t sell a truck of books. I’m going to need to hire someone to help me with my new employee.
Magnus is flipping the duster in his hand and he comes up and leans against the counter, leaving a shower of dust as he thumps down the duster. Thank God the treats are under cover or else I’ll have to sell them with a special, er, dusting.
We chat back and forth about nothing as the rain slams down and I’m reaching for a cookie because I forgot lunch when the bell dings. My heart plummets as a giant umbrella pokes in shaking water on the floor, followed closely by a man in a dark pinstripe suit and wet shoes.
“Oh no.”
Magnus has a strange expression on his face as he straightens up. “Trouble?”
“It’s a development heavy, trying to make me sell up.”
The man comes up to us.
And then the thug in a suit looks at Magnus and says, “Hey, boss.”
Chapter Five
Magnus
Well fuck. I make a memo to fire Georgio the moment I get back to the office, but instead, I settle on non-verbal communication in the form of a fierce glare.
Georgio starts, then smooths a hand down his tie, and looks at little Zoey. “Boss Lady.”
I almost groan. I’m surrounded by idiots.
“The rain drag you out of the hole in the ground you slither about in?” she asks, cold and fierce and dripping with sarcasm.
For a little thing that’s got the biggest bleeding heart I’ve had the misfortune to meet, she’s got balls. And claws. I’m impressed against my will.
I almost want to let him put the hard lean on her, or the buttery goodness of a sweet offer, but would Magnus Simpson do that? I’ve decided Magnus with his old gran is made along similar lines to her, except he’s grounded in reality, from this planet. Zoey? I got no fucking idea where she hails from, but it isn’t planet Earth.
But right now, I think since I’ve done pretty much the bare minimum of competent work, I need to ingratiate myself to her. I figure I might work on undermining the business from the inside—that is, when sweet little Zoey isn’t doing that to herself—while also presenting as something like a knight in shining armor.
I know Georgio well enough to know he’ll follow my lead, and I did ask him to stop by today, but I thought I’d be long gone and I didn’t expect him to come out in the torrential downpour that makes yesterday’s rain look like a tiny sun shower.
I step up and place myself half between them. “I can handle this for you,” I say.
But Zoey puts her hand on my arm and damn if I don’t feel her touch all the way down to my dick, and she shakes her head, her wild black curls bouncing and catching the light. “I can do it. But thank you.”
“You sure? It’ll be my pleasure to escort the thug out.”
Georgio looks a little hurt at this. “Just doing my job.” His gaze skitters past me to her. “You’re gonna be selling up, anyway, so I’m suggesting you take this deal.”
“I don’t respond well to threats.”
“Hear that?” I say, “she doesn’t respond well to threats.”
“It wasn’t a threat.”
“It was,” she says, all kinds of indignant.
“The lady begs to differ.”
“The lady’s got a screw loose,” Georgio mutters under his breath and I can’t argue with that.
Zoey’s hand tightens and she comes up close, her breasts brushing against me and they’re soft and warm and fuck, now I’m imagining them all naked. Like, are her nipples small, or big? The areole a sweet, soft brown, or pink? Or maybe a dark rose and silver dollar size and… that is not helping my dick out at all. I don’t even know why I’m thinking about her tits. I need to get laid is what I need, and her lovely palm-sized breasts aren’t on my menu. I like them—not hers.
