Chapter 4
Chapter 4
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It’s the little things that kill me. How he knows my preferences, the respectful way he speaks to me, and the protective friend he often pretends to be. It’s pathetic to have a crush on my boss but here I am. I am upset with him and myself as I hold the dress he bought me last year while the girl he’s been spending time with shimmies into it.
“I bet you have to have a bunch of cute little stories,” the perky little blonde tries to make eye contact with me through the mirror.
“I guess if our definitions of cute are the same,” I clear my throat. “However, I would like to inform you that I signed a full disclosure agreement. I legally can’t say anything,”
“He said you were hard to crack,” she smirks.
Fuck her. She looks better in this than I did. Of course, she does. She’s human. They’re petite. Mortal men like Mr. Thorne pick the woman who is most likely to obey. Not the kind of woman who can run his business better than he can. I don’t get mortal men. That seems a little lazy and downright self-destructive. But what do I know? I’m just some dumb werewolf thing.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t catch your name,” I say, zipping her up and fixing the dress’s fabric around her.
“Riley,” she answers. “You’re Violet?”
“Violetta, but Violet is fine,” it’s not. No one calls me that.
“What do you prefer?” she asks. I finally look up at her because none of his flings have ever asked me that, and well, he’s had a lot.
“Vy,” I say, stepping back to get a better look at her.
She fits the profile-gorgeous, obviously. She has a slender, toned body and baby blue eyes. This one isn’t slathered with a fake tan. Her skin is bronzed from being outside in the sun for long periods. She’s even got freckles.
“What do you think?” she asks. “I feel like it’s too much. I told him I didn’t want anything too crazy.”
“I think it’s the perfect amount of much.” I smile at her because it isn’t a lie. I help her adjust the front. “Hair up?” I ask, holding her hair up. “If you leave it down, it’ll take too much for the chest piece.”
“Um, sure. I don’t know,” she shrugs.
This is brand new. Riley doesn’t seem to be from the inner circle. Those women would be telling me what to do, how to do it, and what I’m doing wrong. There’s actual potential here, and the anger in my belly turns into something a little heavier.
I use the best products I have available to soften her features. I use the least coverage simply to remove unwanted textures, keeping the natural beauty intact. She’s very beautiful. I had mistaken her nervousness for the innocent look in her eyes. After the last one ended badly, I gave him some advice, and it looks like he’s taken it, just not in the direction I wanted it to go. Either way, it works in my favor.
“How do I look?” she asks nervously, smoothing the front of the dress.
“Gorgeous,” I say at the same time he does. So, he finally decides to show up after springing this girl on me out of nowhere.
“There you are,” she says, her eyes lighting up.
I don’t have to turn around to know he’s probably wearing the black-on-black Armani suit I gave him for his birthday last month. I had it dry-cleaned last night and picked it up this morning. I begin to put my things away annoyed with the entire situation. My stomach is doing somersaults while I try to keep it together long enough to get them both the fuck out of here.
“Riley, let me get a moment with Violetta.”
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“Sure. Thank you so much, Vy. You did an amazing job,” she tells me.
“It wasn’t that hard. You were easy to work with. I meant it. You look gorgeous,” I turn and smile at her.
“Thank you,” she grins. Her natural blush only intensifies the shade I chose for her.
“You’re upset,” Mr. Thorne says as soon as she’s gone. I turn around to face him.
“I had plans tonight,” I lie. “I asked you this morning if you had anything important for tonight, and you said no. I asked you again before leaving your office. Now you’re going to have the night of your life with Riley, and I’m going to be stuck here- I don’t know because everything I had to do I did last night.”
“For your plans tonight,” he adds. “I’m sorry. It was last-minute. What were you going to do? Was there a poetry slam thing down at Marbles?”
I hate him. Why is he making it sound like it’s not a big deal? Like the things I like are some fucking joke. There isn’t one. I checked this morning. Those mortals caught whatever is taking out unvaccinated humans so I doubt they’d be opening again any time soon.
“I had a date,” is the lie that comes out of my mouth. He stiffens and shifts in place. “What? Is that hard to believe?”
“Not at all,” he says tightly. “I just didn’t expect you to say that. I’m really sorry you had to cancel your date. How do I make this better?”
“Maybe call one of your on-call makeup artists next time. You owe me for the dress.”
“Okay,” he nods, but doesn’t meet my glare. I look over the suit and roll my eyes when I find that he probably put it on in a
rush.
“Let me,” I reach for the hem of his slacks. “Riley seems nice. This one has an actual human heart, it seems.”
“Are you judging me?” he finally cracks my favorite crooked smile.
“Don’t I always?” I reach for his collar. “Where did you meet her?”
“She’s the librarian at Cyn’s school,” so he has been hanging out at home. I guess I know why now, and it has nothing to do with Cynthia Thorne.
“I don’t have to give you the be nice to her speech, right?”
“You like her,” he concludes.
“Yeah, she seems nice. I know you’re not. This isn’t like picking up a hot bitch in the Hamptons. You don’t go around buying her shit and fucking in every corner with girls like this. The most materialistic thing you might buy her is her reserved list at Barnes & Noble and definitely flowers,”
“I will make a note of that,” he smirks. “You spent two hours with her.”
“And I’m not thinking about hanging myself,” I nod.
“Alright,” he laughs. “I’m really sorry about ruining your plans tonight. You should have told me,”
“My personal business is not for your ears,” I shake my head. The same flash of hurt from yesterday crosses his features, and again, I don’t immediately apologize for it because it doesn’t really matter. He’s making his choice, and it’s clear I was never an option. “I wasn’t that into him anyway. He’s a mouth breather.”
“So why did you accept?”
“He was hot,” I continue the lie. “I haven’t been out on my own for a while. My boss is kind of needy.”
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“He sounds like an asshole,” he smirks.
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“I will tell him you said that. Repeatedly, in the near future,” I sigh. “You should go. Riley might start asking me about the artifacts in my living room.”
“Fifty bucks she doesn’t,”
“You’re on,” I say, hoping it’s enough, and walk out with him.
“This is an authentic African Tribal wood Nedenganse statue,” Riley points at the wooden carving on top of my fireplace before taking it. “Where did you get it?”
“Mr. Thorne gave that to me for my birthday four years ago. My mother was an Anthropologist, and these were her favorites. He brought it back with him from a charity trip in the Congo, where he helped build houses.” I actually don’t remember where he brought it back from, but it makes a good conversation for them on their way out.
“You did?” she asks, turning her doe-eyed expression to him. I take the statue from her and return it to where she got it from. She looks smart enough to know not to touch other people’s African statues.
“You should get moving,” I say before he can answer.
“Right. I don’t want to take up more of your night,” he says, holding his arm out for her.
She steps into him, and he holds a fifty-dollar bill against her back. I take it and walk them out. Before she can say anything else, I slam the door shut and walk into my living room. I throw the money on the table and fall into my armchair.
