Page 45 of Dancing for the Minotaur

Terra slowly lowered the paper in her hand and stared at him.

“Oh, honey.”

His ears twitched.

“What? What is it?”

She sighed.

“You have a lot to learn. But don’t worry–I’ll teach you.”

By the time five o'clock approached, Terra was tired enough that her shoulders ached from sitting hunched over paperwork all day. But it was a completely different kind of exhaustion from the one she'd known at The Doll House.

There, she went home with sore feet and aching muscles and the weary feeling that she'd spent hours smiling at people she didn't like while pretending their hands on her body didn't disgust her.

This exhaustion felt productive. She had spent the entire day solving problems, organizing chaos and using a part of her brain that had been neglected for years, and she loved it.

The office was still far from perfect, but at least now the chaos had categories. The surface of Taurex's massive desk had finally emerged beneath the papers, several boxes had been emptied, the unpaid invoices were organized by age and Terra had drafted reminder notices for the worst offenders. She had also begun a list of questions for Taurex's accountant—assuming he actually had one.

“You do have an accountant, right?” she'd asked earlier, suddenly struck by the possibility that the answer might be no.

“Yes.”

“Who?”

When he gave her the name of the firm, Terra immediately looked them up online and felt a rush of relief when she discovered they were both real and reputable.

Thank God! Apparently Taurex wasn't completely suicidal when it came to Earth paperwork. Still, it was obvious that whoever handled his annual taxes wasn't doing much with the day-to-day bookkeeping, accounts receivable or general organization of the business.

That, apparently, was where Terra came in. And there was still a LOT to do.

She leaned back in her chair and stretched, trying to work the stiffness out of her shoulders. Across the room, Taurex stood near the enormous windows speaking quietly into some kind of communications device that definitely hadn't been manufactured on Earth. Terra pretended not to watch him, though it was difficult not to notice the way the late-afternoon sunlight outlined his huge body and made the tips of his horns glow faintly.

He finished the call and turned toward her.

“You contacted Harris Industries this morning?” he asked.

She nodded.

“I did. They were the first ones I emailed.”

“They paid.” He spread his hands. “Just like that–they paid.”

Terra felt a flush of pride.

“All of it? The entire invoice?”

Taurex nodded.

“The entire thing. Forty-three thousand dollars.”

Terra couldn't help smiling.

“I told you. You have to remind people.”

“So…they paid you because you asked?” He raised his eyebrows.

“They paid you because you were owed the money,” Terra told him.