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Chapter Six

Nuni

M uch to my annoyance, Anita got the details for all three viewings over to me by 11 a.m. on Friday.

I’d been so sure she wouldn’t meet her self-imposed deadline. I’d woken up in a fantastic mood at the thought of getting

to send my snarky 12.01 p.m. email. I’d smashed my morning workout and jerked off in the shower—not that that was related to the Anita thing. My skin looked good despite how late I’d gone to bed, and my brand new Blattleder oxford shoes looked fucking fantastic with my suit and weren’t pinching at all.

I’d even remembered to buy an apology plant for Lipa on the way to work. I mean, I had almost called her and asked her to get it for me, but I was pretty sure people didn’t really like picking up their own presents. She’d taken the news of having to clear my entire Monday afternoon schedule well, her smile only growing a teensy bit pinched.

I was in a conference call when Anita’s email came through at eleven, and I stopped speaking mid-sentence as I saw her name pop up on my screen.

“Nuni?” someone asked hesitantly after a few seconds of silence while I read the email, my nostrils flaring.

“Sorry,” I answered smoothly. “Someone knocked on my door. As I was saying…”

I was grudgingly impressed that she’d managed to arrange all three viewings before lunchtime, but it just made me start thinking of other ways to… challenge her. Not that I wanted to be an asshole client who made unreasonable demands, but she did keep subtly teasing me about the flaming shots thing. So maybe that would justify it. I’d stop being a dick when she stopped bringing up the flaming shots. That seemed fair.

I almost replied with a demand that she add a fourth venue to the schedule, but opted against it. Instead, I typed, Thanks for getting the details over to me just in time.

I knew that would piss her off. She’d gotten them to me an hour before she said she would. I just wanted to see what she’d say in response.

I sipped some water as I waited for her reply. My stomach was going weird again, like it was twisting itself into knots, but that would be fixed soon. I’d hounded my nutritionist this morning, demanding she look over my diet plan and letting her know I thought a new battery of allergy tests might be a good idea. People developed new allergies later in life. Maybe I was suddenly allergic to something.

I just hoped it wasn’t anything in my rice milk matcha lattes. They were my shameful guilty secret. If Felik ever asked what I was drinking in the mornings, I lied and said it was hot water with lemon.

By the time my call wrapped up half an hour later, she still hadn’t replied. Ignoring my disappointment—and I was only disappointed because I’d wanted to get a rise out of her—I checked my diary and saw I had a free half hour before my catch-up with Felik.

Clicking off my emails, I tried to get some work done, but for some reason I couldn’t concentrate. Lipa slipped into the room a few minutes later to deliver my small late-morning meal and refill my water bottle, pausing to remind me about my meeting with Felik.

Felik and I constantly bickered over who would have to walk the short distance to the other’s office for our catch-ups, so we’d reluctantly agreed to take it in turns and left it up to our assistants to remember which office we’d be meeting in. It was mine today, and it always gave me a little burst of smug satisfaction to watch Felik skulk into the room while I lounged behind my big desk.

Not that his desk wasn’t equally as big, but still. I’d be the one behind the desk today.

After eating, I gave up on trying to work and grabbed my cell. I had fifteen minutes before Felik arrived, so I decided to call my sibling Laki to see how they were doing.

Of all the var Rorik children, I was closest to Laki. Not that I didn’t love all my siblings, but Laki made me feel weirdly calm. I could tell them anything and they never made me feel dumb or neurotic. My sister Daga teased me about my “OCD” eating habits and exercise regime. My other sister Kiti called me a frat bro meathead. Greid barely spoke to me, but he barely spoke to any of us unless we called or texted him first.

“Hey,” Laki said as they picked up. I could hear they were outside, which probably meant they were at work.

“Hey.” I spun my chair to face the windows, staring out at the city below. I wondered where the Feris Events office was. Was it weird to look it up? “How’s it going?”

“Fine. Just at work.” A faint creak came down the phone, and I could picture them perching on the edge of their truck’s flatbed with their landscaping business’s logo emblazoned on the side. “What’s wrong?”

I made a face. “Why are you assuming something’s wrong?”

They snorted. “If you don’t immediately launch into whatever you called for, it generally means there’s something wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong. Everything’s great.” My new Blattleder tapped restlessly on the floor before I stilled it and said, “We’ve started planning the firm’s anniversary event, so that’s good.”

“Uh huh.”

There was an expectant pause.

“The event planner is kind of weird,” I blurted, my foot tapping again.

“Oh yeah? Weird how?”