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She blinked hard before Aaron saw them.
Smedley gestured toward Willow. “She’s right behind you, Mr. Tiamat. And I must protest the highly irregular hiring practices that have been instituted in the last month.”
She didn’t know why Smedley was mispronouncing Aaron Timmit’s name so badly.
Aaron turned, his slim hips twisting just a fraction before his shoulders and then his head.
When he was facing her, his expression didn’t change, though he blinked his bright blue eyes. “Willow?”
Her heart lurched behind her sternum, then sprinted. “Um, Aaron? What are you doing here?”
He said, “I’m the Head of Security for the Dragon’s Den Casino. Man-eating sea monsters fall under my jurisdiction, even sick ones.”
“But Mr. O’Tentacle said that a dragon shifter was in charge of that.”
Aaron’s expression fell, and he placed his hands in his pants pockets. “About that—”
Behind Aaron, Smedley said, “I must protest. The last time we hired someone without due process, we ended up with glitterbombs detonating in the penthouses.”
Aaron turned his head toward Smedley, but his bright blue eyes didn’t leave Willow’s. “I thought we were hiring a witch.”
Smedley said, “Ms. Willow Sage says she’s a witch. Her resumé says she’s a witch.”
Willow straightened her spine. She wouldn’t cry. Surely in the four months since they’d broken up, she had gained enough perspective and composure that she could hold herself together for a few minutes in the HR office. “Yes, Aaron. I’m a witch.”
One of his light brown eyebrows lowered, but his perfect face didn’t otherwise move. “You never told me you were a supernatural.”
“I’m a witch. I’ve always been a witch. And evidently, you’re a dragon and your name is Arawn Tiamat, not Aaron Timmit. So, I guess there’s a lot we both forgot to mention about ourselves.”
