by Tena Stetler
Flipping on the main light switch, Bruce walked over and calmly picked up the picture. Apparently, someone took the photograph last night as he and Angie walked back to her car. “So I had coffee with a business associate. We discussed her new endeavor and I escorted her back to her car. What’s the problem?”
Owen snarled and pointed to the picture. “Last time I went out with a business associate, we didn’t hold hands, or stroll close together. What do you think Tristian is going to do when he sees this picture? There’ll be bloodshed and it’ll be yours.”
“I don’t really care what Tristian thinks. Like I indicated before, there is nothing going on,” he said curtly. We had a business discussion and I walked her back to the car, she was chilled, so I drew her in close. If Tristian wants to call me out on it, I’ll tell him the same. Though, I usually don’t explain my actions to anyone, much less employees.” He narrowed his eyes and glared at Owen. “By the way, who took this picture?”
“I don’t know. It was taped to the front door.” Owen snorted loudly. “To discuss your supposed business meeting.”
Chapter Six
As Tchaikovsky’s 1812 Overture rose to a crescendo, Angie sat upright in bed, slapping the snooze button on her alarm. She cursed her brother even as she fondly remembered the day he’d given her the alarm. Her love of classical music motivated the gift, but she wondered now if it had actually diminished her love of that particular overture, once her very favorite. She placed the clock far enough away on the nightstand that she had to sit up to turn it off. A deep sleeper, she many a time slept through the alarm or hit snooze never really being awake, and had been late for school or work. That was unacceptable now that she was a business owner.
Sleepily she padded barefoot into the bathroom and turned on the shower. Cool water splashed on her face and streamed down her naked body as she reached for the soap. She felt better already. She hopped out of the shower and dried off.
Sitting on the edge of her bed, she wiggled into tight blue jeans, pulled on over-the-knee black leather boots, and layered a soft burgundy V-neck sweater over her favorite pink lace tank top. Springtime mornings in DC still held a chill. Resting her hand on the hope chest that her parents had given her on her tenth birthday, she shoved herself upright. A little sigh escaped her lips as she thought of the wonderful time she’d had last night.
The healer talent she inherited allowed her to feel Bruce’s strength, but unexpected was a deep sadness and loneliness. She sensed none of the pure evil that everyone warned her about in him. Demon he may be, but he wasn’t what she expected or what others claimed. She realized that exercising the power necessary to become and remain Territory Overlord, he’d probably done heinous things. She sighed again, Oh hell, who am I kidding, the danger was a turn on. But something more drew her to him and until she discovered what it was, no one would dissuade her from seeing him. She’d just have to figure out how to skirt the promise she’d made to Willow, no one else really mattered.
Sneaking around wasn’t something she wanted to do. Any relationship with Bruce needed to be up front and honest from the beginning. The thought of exploring that possibility left her breathless and her pulse racing. Regarding her brother, that was a different matter, he wouldn’t approve, but she’d cross that bridge later.
Angie strolled into the kitchen and found Willow sitting at the table with a cup of steaming hot chocolate. “Is there more where that came from?” Angie asked, inhaling deeply of the warm chocolate aroma that wafted through the room, a smile turning up the corners of her mouth.
“Good morning to you too, and yes, over on the stove.” Willow grinned as her best friend reached into the cupboard pulling out a large mug with ‘I Think I’m Allergic to Morning’ emblazed across the cup in bright red letters. “You were out late last night. Did you have a good time?”
Angie poured the hot chocolate into the mug, added a dollop of whipped cream, and settled into the seat across the table from Willow. “I did.”
“Not going to tell me about it, huh?” Willow gave her a sideways glance.
“Just had coffee with a business associate.” Angie shrugged, her hands wrapped around the warm mug. “That’s all, nothing to tell.”
“Oh, really?” Willow eyed her suspiciously. “You don’t like coffee. Someone I know?”
“No, not really. I’ll introduce you soon.” Angie waved her hand in a dismissive gesture, then lowered her eyes to the mug as she reached for a spoon and stirred the whipped cream into the smooth dark liquid.
Willow sipped her hot chocolate and frowned but said nothing more.
Holding her steaming mug in one hand, Angie stood and turned to Willow. “I’ve got to go. Enjoy your day off.” Angie looked closely at her friend and seeing the concern, smiled, brushing her other hand over Willow’s spiked hair affectionately. “Don’t worry about me, I heard your warning. See you tonight.” She stepped toward the door then paused. “How about we have a girl’s night in tonight, movie, popcorn, and some of that decadent chocolate fudge ice cream in the fridge?” She walked through the doorway then spun around grinning mischievously. “Unless you got a hot date.”
Willow sighed and looked up at her friend. “No hot date.” Hesitantly, she smiled. “But I’m working on it.” With that, she got up, washed her cup in the sink, dried, and returned it to the shelf. “See ya tonight.” Willow said over her shoulder and left the kitchen.
****
Over the next few weeks, The Krystal Unicorn saw a flurry of new and return customers. The sustained business allowed them to add a part-time clerk to work Saturdays and fill in when needed. Autumn was a young witch from an old political family looking to break with tradition and find her own place in the world. From Angie and Willow’s point of view, Autumn was perfect for the job, bubbly personality, dependable, and well connected in the community.
Angie stood at the store window, flipped the OPEN sign to CLOSED, moved to the door and held it open for Autumn. “Good Night, thanks for your help today, see you next week.” Angie locked the door behind her. Leaning back against the door, Angie let out a heavy sigh. “Wow, what a week. Those redesigned flyers brought in lots of new customers.”
Willow smirked and conceded. “Ok, so your mysterious business associate might know a thing or two.”
“Hey, I created the flyer. Don’t I get some credit? Not to mention I haven’t had a day off in two weeks.”
“Sure you do and deserve a day off to boot. So take Sunday off, we’re closed anyway. I’ll come in, do inventory, then order the items we are out of. Fair enough?”
“Sounds good to me. Now get out of here, I’ll close up.” Angie gave her friend a little shove.
A loud rap on the window made both women jump. A tall young man with sandy blonde hair and large dark eyes stood at the window smiling at Willow.
“Who’s the handsome guy?” Angie wanted to know.
“My date.” Willow said airily, grabbing her coat and pushing past Angie, who unlocked the door.
“Hey, aren’t you going to introduce us?” Angie grabbed Willow’s arm before she could escape out the door.
“Nope.” Willows eyes sparkled with mischief. “Not until you introduce me to your mysterious business associate.” She smirked, wrenched her arm free, and flounced out the door.
I don’t think you want to know who that would be. Angie shut and locked the door again then slumped down in the nearby chair. She’d not heard a thing from Bruce since they went for coffee that night. Maybe he wasn’t as attracted to her as she had thought. There was only one way to find out she decided and pulled out his business card. She reached for her cell phone and dialed the number written on the back of his card. It rang several times.
****
“Good Evening Angelique, how are you?” His deep, smooth voice flowed seductively through the phone.
“I’m fine, what ya doing?”
“Just finishing up some paperwork that I have ignored all day.”
“Yes.”
“How about we grab a bite to eat, I’m just closing up the shop, and can be there in a few minutes.”
He paused, blowing out a breath and running his fingers through his hair. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. I enjoyed your company the other night, but there are things about me that will cause problems and could actually put your life in danger.”
“Geez, you sound like my brother. I’ll tell you the same thing I tell him. I’m a big girl, make my own decisions, and can take care of myself. Now how about that meal?”
“No. I’m sorry, I can’t.” He clenched his fingers into a fist on his desk.
“Why, because you are looking out for my best interests, even though you are attracted to me?”
“Something like that. Now there is nothing more to say. I’m sorry if I hurt you, but believe me it’s better this way.” He disconnected the call and threw the cell against the wall, watching it shatter into a million pieces and scatter all over the polished floor. He stood and swept the remaining paperwork off his desk and watched it flutter to the ground. Slamming his fist on the top of the desk, he shoved away and paced back and forth across the room. Feeling like the room was closing in, he strode to the door and yanked it open, coming face to face with Angie, her mouth set in a thin line, cheeks red with fury.
“How did you get in here?” He demanded blocking her way into the office.
“Through the door downstairs,” she said airily.
“That’s not possible. I locked and dead bolted it myself.”
“Well either your locks are bad or your memory is. One wave of my hand and I was in. Now…we have things to discuss. You don’t brush me off like a piece of lint on that expensive suit of yours.”
Being a petite woman, Angie swiftly turned sideways and slid under his arm deliberately brushing her body against his. He spun around and grabbed her arm preventing her from continuing into the room. She raised her other hand in a quick, sharp flick, an unseen force sent Bruce sprawling against the white leather sofa, shoving it hard against the wall.
“I don’t like to be manhandled.” Indignantly, she straightened her sweater then glanced around. “Geez looks like a tornado hit your office.” Angie sauntered across the room, careful not to step on the papers scattered around the floor. She sat in one of the sleek navy blue leather chairs facing the desk, crossed her legs, and rested her arms on the chair. She swiveled the chair around to face him, the corners of her mouth curved up in a sweet smile. “Won’t you join me over here and we can have that discussion?”
Bruce bounded off the sofa prepared to retaliate, his normally soft dark amber eyes turned hard with bright orange whirling through the amber. Get a grip man. This is no way to treat a beautiful woman. Especially one that has those kinds of powers and isn’t afraid to use them, you’ll only escalate the situation. He stopped, took a deep breath, and he stood for a moment as if counting to ten, then strode by her, rounded his desk, lowered himself into the leather chair, and glared at her. “There is nothing to discuss,” he said flatly,
“Oh, that’s where you’re wrong.” Her eyes caught sight of a picture on the corner of his desk. “Then why do you have a picture of us?” She cocked her head to get a better look. “Lying on the corner of your desk.” She reached across and snatched the picture.
“That’s just one of the reasons this won’t work,” he said, voice void of all emotion.
“Why? What does that picture have to do with anything? I think it’s quite good of both of us, and the background lights are spectacular.”
“Yes, but your brother won’t be thrilled.”
“Who I see is my own business. He has nothing to do with this.”
Bruce leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes, then ran his fingers through his hair to the nap of his neck, rubbing at the knotted muscles. “Ok, I guess we’ll have to do this the hard way.” He straightened and turned his cold piercing eyes on her. “You know what I am?”
A chill prickled down her back, she shook it off, put her game face on, and said smugly, “Yes, I did a little digging, appears you are a powerful demon, the Overlord for the Western Hemisphere, if I’m not mistaken.”
“Then that makes two of us, my informants tell me you are Tristian Shandie’s little sister. A powerful witch, as you demonstrated. Tristian is a long time trusted business associate of mine and I don’t want to cause problems by dating his little sister.”
“Why? What does it matter? He doesn’t like any of the men I date anyway. What makes you so special?” She smiled coyly and looked up at him from under her long blonde lashes. “He wouldn’t have to know,” she paused, “at least right away.”
“You’re not going to make this easy. Are you?”
“No. It appears the big bad demon is afraid to tell a little ol’ witch what the real problem is.”
Bruce shoved up, nearly knocking over his chair, then stalked to the window and stared out, hands behind his back. “I didn’t want you to hear this from me. My associates tell me that Tristian went to great lengths to keep what he does for a living from you. But it appears you are determined to enter our world.”
He returned to stand in front of his chair leaned over the desk his face inches from hers and said, “The choice is yours. You can either call your brother and talk with him, or learn the truth from me.” He shoved the telephone console across the desk toward her. “Be forewarned, he will be furious when he finds out I’ve told you. Still we can’t explore a relationship, no matter how much that might please us, until you understand the situation.” He paused. “Now, which will it be?” Tristian is on speed dial, just tap #2,” he said.
****
Shocked at his cold demeanor, she sat silent, running over in her mind other alternatives or explanations. What did her brother do that was so horrible he’d felt it necessary to keep from her? Their world? What the hell did he mean by that?
“Well?” Bruce drummed his fingers impatiently on the glass desktop. His piercing eyes staring at her relentlessly.
The person sitting in front of her was certainly not the man she’d flirted outrageously with at the salon, nor the proper gentleman she’d accompanied to the coffee shop. Had Willow and Mrs. Staret been right? “I need time to make that decision.” She shoved the phone back at him and got shakily to her feet, hoping he didn’t notice. “I’ll let you know.” She took a deep breath and strode determinedly out of his office, without a backward glance.
****
He relaxed against the chair closing his eyes, something was breaking apart inside him, but he’d done what was best for both of them. Positive she wouldn’t return he was surprised at the feeling of loss filling his chest. God, he’d only known her a few weeks. What was wrong with him? Whatever it was, he had to get it under control.
Chapter Seven
Fingers of fiery orange and red fanned across the bright blue sky as the sun peeked over the treetops. At the kitchen table Angie sat, head propped in her hands, replaying her conversation with Bruce. She wondered what services Tristian preformed for Bruce, and how to find out without alienating one or both. Most of the night, she tossed and turned, considering her options and didn’t like any of them. A slight breeze from an open window brushed across Angie’s face as Willow slid, face beaming, into the seat across the table from Angie.
Willow took a good look at her friend and asked, “You look like you’ve lost your best friend. What’s up?”
“Oh, nothing.” Angie smiled at her best friend. “Look at you, you are absolutely radiant. Tell me all about last night. Was he wonderful?”
“Oh, yes, he is fantastic, in more ways than one,” she said grinning, red patches blooming on her cheeks. “We’re going out again this evening. Would you mind closing up tonight?” Willow asked, getting up to fill the kettle with water and sat it on the stove. She reached up into the cupboard and got out two mugs.
“Sure. I am so h
appy for you. Now, when do I get to meet him?”
“How about you bring your man of mystery and we’ll have dinner together on Saturday night?” Willow set the mugs on the table. “What kind of tea do you want?”
Angie peered into the tin of tea bags on the table and selected the spiced orange tea. “I’m afraid that’s impossible.” Her brave façade slid away and she turned her glistening eyes on her friend. The feelings she’d kept walled up all night threatened to burst. She viciously willed the tears away, but one trickled down her cheek.
Willow immediately was at Angie’s side, arm wrapped around her shoulders. “What happened? Did he hurt you?”
“Oh, it’s a mess and I don’t know which way to turn. You warned me, but I didn’t listen.”
Willow put her hands on her friend’s shoulders and pushed her away to get a good look at her. “What have you done? It’s Bruce, isn’t it?”
“Well, not exactly. He’s the one I met at the coffee shop and that night he was so kind and proper. We had a wonderful time, I felt a connection to him I’ve never felt with anyone. Last night when I went to talk to him, he was someone completely different, cold, and distant. He cares about me. I can feel it and he had a picture of the two of us on the corner of his desk.”
“Demons are like that. I told you they are not to be trusted. Wait a minute. You had a picture taken of the two of you?” Willow asked her eyes rounding in surprise.
“No, it was lying on his desk. I didn’t get a chance to ask where he got it. Apparently, someone took it when he walked me back to my car from the coffee shop.”
“Oh, Angie,” Willow said with a sigh, then jumped up to take the whistling teakettle from the stove.
“The problem is that Tristian is a business associate and that whatever he does for Bruce is something that my brother has deliberately kept from me. Then Bruce said something about me being determined to join their world? How crazy is that?” Angie asked.