Well,thatmakes everything easy!
There’s a knock on the door. Adrian looks up from his laptop and turns to the door.
“Yes?” I ask doubtfully. Ashley never bothers to knock or only does it as a courtesy before barging in.
Sam enters the room with the smile he calls “The Charm Offensive”.Don’t ask. Adrian gives him a once-over before going back to his laptop like he’s not impressed.
I glare at Sam. What the fuck is he doing here? Our operation has a clear division. It always did. I’m the face, and he’s the man behind the computer. I face the danger as he helps avert it. While very smart, he’s not built to face a werewolf.
Sam ignores me and takes the only empty chair next to Adrian. “Don’t be rude, Elliot. Introduce us,” he says, keeping his eyes on Adrian.
“I don’t think that’s necessary, we’re almost—”
Sam interrupts me. “You type so fast. In my experience, if you have competent fingers, you’re competent at other things too.”
The rapid tap-tap of the keyboard comes to a stop. My jawdrops open. Adrian turns to Sam and raises an eyebrow. “My assistant types ninety words per minute, but hasn’t ever gotten a coffee order right. I wouldn't bet on that theory.”
“Maybe she just hasn’t found her calling yet.” Sam waves him off. “I’m Sam, by the way. Sam Parker. Elliot’s friend and the event's main sponsor. You must be the immensely helpful lawyer handling our paperwork for us?” He offers his hand.
Adrian takes it. His hand, built to a standard werewolf size, swallows Sam’s. This man is damaging my otherwise perfect blood pressure. After fighting off werewolves in their dens for years, this will be the cause of my death.
Elliot Rhodes. Legendary Veterinarian, Meh human. Died from watching his friend flirt with a psychopath's son who's also a dangerous werewolf in his own right.
The tombstone will be big, yes. But after literally killing me, the least Sam can do is spring some cash on my funeral expenses.
“Adrian Sinclair.” Does his voice go down an octave? Is the flirting thing working?
No, this isnothappening. “Yes, and he has an urgent appointment with his doctor about some rashes.” I stage-whisper to Adrian, then turn to Sam. “You should really get them checked. They looked communicable.”
Sam smiles, no sign of discomfort on the man’s face. “Turned out to be a minor sunburn, El. I love that you caresomuch.” He props an elbow on the desk and rests his chin in his hand, watching Adrian, whose smug little smirk says he's thoroughly enjoying the conversation. “What were you guys talking about?”
Adrian looks at me. “Are you sure you want to have this meeting in front of someone we might have to negotiate contract terms with later?”
“No, you’re right. That’ll be a conflict of interest. Sam,leave,” I say sternly.
Sam rolls his eyes. “What he means is we’re friends before parties to a future contract. It’s completely fine to discuss the details of the events with me. It’s a mutual project, really.”
Adrian focuses his intense gaze on Sam. “I don’t recommend my clients mix their professional and personal lives.”
“That doesn’t sound very fun now, does it?” Sam says.
“You can’t handle my kind of fun,” Adrian says, then he turns to me. “I have all the information I need for now. I’ll email you if I need something else.” He stands up to leave.
“Uh… we can order lunch and talk over all the details. Sam was just leaving.”
“I may have more questions too. How about you give me your number so I can call you anytime I run into trouble? Of legal kind, obviously.”
One side of Adrian’s lips lifts. “That’s going to be an expensive deal for you, Mr. Parker.” He pulls a business card from his pocket, grabs a pen off my desk, scribbles a number on the back, and hands it to Sam. “You look like you run into trouble off-business hours too. That one should be reachable.” He points to the scribble.
Sam turns the card over and smirks up at Adrian. “A lawyer and a psychologist? I’m sure you’re worth the price.”
“Work hazard,” Adrian says, winking before walking out of the office.
I wait until the bells over the clinic door signal his exit. All the while, Sam stares at the card curiously.
“What the fuck wasthat?”
Sam frowns in surprise. “A job done well?”
