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Atlas chuckles. “I’ll find you soon.” He winks, and I nearly miss a step on the cobblestone path as I slide by him to head inside.
* * *
Growing up as a princess in a legit castle failed to teach me many things I’ve had to learn since entering the human realm. One of those things is how much an angry troll spits while ranting.
Or perhaps that’s just Marv.
I’m lucky, because I love my job.
Normally.
I’m trying to remind myself of that fact as the furious troll glares up at me.
“I’ve said three times that I don’t want another female,” Marv snaps, jabbing a fat finger at me.
“And I’ve said four times that Lysandra is no longer available for scheduling with you.” I tap my pen against the book I keep all the girls’ appointments in.
He leans farther over my desk. “I saw her on my way into the building.”
“She’s with another client.” I give him a tight smile. My patience with this conversation is wearing thin.
“Then, I’ll book for another time.” He raises his eyebrows, like he thinks he’s won something.
“Do I need to spell it out for you?” Stretching back in my chair, I roll my eyes at his audacity. “You didn’t honor her limits.” I shrug, glaring at the pain in my ass who won’t just leave. “Verbal degradation is a hard no for her. Which you are aware of. She ended the session and explained she wouldn’t be seeing you again. Let me make myself very clear—you’re lucky we’ve allowed you back at all.” He really has Lysandra to thank for that.
She feels bad for the vile man.
I do not.
Limits are listed for a reason. The next time he even glances the wrong way at one of my girls’ hard-no list, I’ll ban him permanently. However, Lysandra was adamant that he got caught up in the moment. She claimed he was remorseful and apologetic, but that seems to have disappeared since then.
Atlas sticks his head in the door. “Is there a problem?” His broad shoulders flex under his T-shirt as he leans his top half farther inside. He quirks an eyebrow, causing his snake bite piercings to glint in the light, or maybe that’s the naughty little smirk he shoots my way.
Atlas is tall, even for an orc, but that’s because he’s also half giant. His skin tone is also a lighter shade of green than most orcs. He tends to pop in any time I have a problematic client to deal with. It never fails to send a smile to my face.
“This doesn’t concern you, grunt,” Marv says in a haughty-as-hell tone.
My magic instantly bristles at the insult. I do too. It’s very hard not to punch the awful man in his face.
“We’re done here.” I push back my chair as I stand to my full height. “You just earned yourself a ninety-day ban from The Den.” My bracelet beads jingle together as I point to the door. “Get the hell out of my office.”
Gruntis a hateful term used to describe the giants. For many years, they were considered all brawn and no brains. Which is extremely inaccurate, and luckily, the supernatural world has grown and evolved to leave the term behind.
The trolls have a similar history in the way some of the species viewed their kind, so Marv really should be more conscientious with his word choices.
“I’m a paying member.” Marv slams his hands down on my desk.
“Would you prefer a lifetime banishment?” I ask, raising my eyebrows. “Leave now, or we can discuss a more permanent timeline.”
Marv grumbles under his breath, but he heads out without a backward glance.
“Make sure you find some respect before you come back,” I call toward his back.
Atlas steps inside, closing the door behind him. “Do you have any idea how sexy that was?”
My heart races at the look he shoots my way. He’s ridiculously handsome all the time, but there’s something about him when he’s smug thatreallydoes it for me. It’s not appropriate, considering I’m technically his boss, but there’s a weird gray area between us lately that I can’t force myself to bring up. If I do, then I might lose whatever this thing is we have brewing between us.
Atlas prowls closer with the grace of a hunter. He looks quite predatory as he backs me against the wall behind my desk. My eyes fly to his wound, but it’s already healed, and he’s even in a fresh shirt.
