Page 41 of Possessive Ink

Scoffing lightly, I shake my head. “Oh, take it from me, he’s going to be spitting mad. You’re his woman, and if it were me and I had to be at work, I’d want to know exactly where you are and that you are sleeping in my bed even if I wasn’t there with you.”

Rolling her eyes, Tori waves away my words and lifts herself up onto the stool beside Lemon. “Sorry, Lemon. If you haven’t already guessed, much like my big brother, my boyfriend, Nero, is a bit of an alpha male. But what Atticus fails to realize is that although Nero can be a bit of a grumpy bear sometimes, I really don’t think he’ll care where I sleep as long as I’m safe. But enough about me. Tell me everything that’s been happening with you since this morning. Att seems to think you want to come and work for me, but I thought you worked at the day spa hotel place,” my sister says, cutting me entirely from the conversation and focusing on Lemon.

“I do.” Stopping herself, Lemon amends, “I did work at the spa, but apparently I quit,” she says, flashing a glare in my direction.

Tori looks from Lemon to me, her brows furrowed. “I’m guessing there’s more to the story.”

“He had her running all over town doing his errands and expecting her to pay out of pocket without a car,” I declare, speaking over Lemon before she has a chance to say anything.

“Was that part of your job?” Tori asks Lemon.

Sighing, Lemon shrugs. “No. I’m actually the resort receptionist. I’m supposed to greet clients, arrange their schedules and treatments, recommend restaurants, help with bookings, and generally be a friendly face to make their stay more personal.”

“But that isn’t what you ended up doing,” Tori surmises.

“I did when I first started working there, but…things changed. I guess it started small, little errands that I could easily do. Only for the last six months, the owner has treated me more like his PA, and I’ve spent less and less time actually interacting with clients.”

“So who was handling the reception duties?” Tori asks.

“No one,” Lemon says sadly. “Wes just puts a sign on my desk with a cell phone number to call if there’s a problem.”

“That sucks. I’m sorry,” Tori tells her genuinely. “But what happened today that made you quit? And don’t you have to work your notice?”

“I—” Lemon starts, but I interrupt.

“I happened,” I say loudly.

“You happened?” Tori asks with a knowing smirk. “Let me guess, you went into full-blown alphahole mode and quit on Lemon’s behalf?”

“He had her buying him hundreds of dollars’ worth of steak and protein shakes. Then he sent her to the other side of town to collect a huge order of robes and laundry and expected her to pay out of pocket, and then somehow figure out how to get them all back to the spa without a car in a town without Uber drivers.”

“And he ate my cake,” Lemon says, like it’s the worst of his sins.

“So you made her quit?” Tori says, turning to look at me as she asks the question.

“Yes,” I tell her without a hint of remorse. “I refuse to let my woman work for an asshole who treats her like his slave.”

“Your woman?” Tori asks, her brows snapping up so high they’re almost touching her hairline.

“Yes,” I say boldly.

Tori’s gaze softens as she turns to look at Lemon with a new veil over her eyes. “So do you actually want to come and work for me, or has Att arranged this whole thing without asking you how you feel about it?”

“I mean…” Lemon’s cheeks flush an adorable shade of pink. “He didn’t really tell me he was going to ask you…but I do love your cakes, and I worked at a coffee shop in Bozeman for years, so if you’re looking for someone, I’d like to apply for the job.”

“How do you make a cortado?” Tori asks.

“Pull a double shot of espresso and then combine it with an equal amount of steamed milk,” Lemon answers easily.

“What’s the best thing you’ve eaten from my store?”

“Oh, the blueberry and lavender macarons. They were amazing,” Lemon says with a sigh, then immediately perks up. “Oh, or maybe the Opera cakes, or the lemon tarts, or…oh god, that chocolate heaven I had today was amazing.”

Smiling widely, Tori laughs softly. “Come and work for me. If you can be that enthusiastic about my cakes and you know how to make coffee without me having to train you, then I’d love to have you. How many hours were you working at the spa?”

“I did a forty-hour week, but it was a rotating schedule, so I worked two weekends a month, and then on those weeks I had two days off in the week.”

“If you’re happy to stay with that many hours, then that would be amazing. I have a few part-time members of staff but have been looking for another full-time person. How about we start with a week’s trial, and then if we’re both happy, you can fill out all the paperwork and sign a permanent contract.”