Page 7 of Petty AF (At First #1)

seven

~ River ~

A gainst my better judgment, I returned to work the following week.

Did I think it was a good idea? Absolutely not. I had bills to pay, though, and even loyal, long-time clients wouldn’t wait around forever for me to get my life together.

I had also been slowly coming to the realization that I had no idea how long I’d be stuck with this…condition. Maybe it would wear off in a few weeks. Maybe it would be something I had to deal with forever.

Either way, I couldn’t outrun it, so I might as well start figuring out how to live with it.

Spending the day with my best friend at the studio, despite not having any clients on the books for the day, seemed like a good way to start. Otto and I rarely disagreed, and he didn’t need a curse to be openly sarcastic.

More importantly, he didn’t offend easily. So, even if I said something out of line, he’d probably just laugh and clap back twice as hard.

I found Otto in his office, leaned back in his chair, feet propped up on his desk with his laptop perched on his thighs. It looked uncomfortable as hell.

“Someone should invent a sturdy surface for a computer. It would be really convenient, don’t you think?”

“Well, well,” he sang, popping his head up and grinning as I entered the room. “Look who finally decided to be productive.”

“Don’t get used to it,” I quipped back, dropping my messenger bag to the floor beside the door. “I’m just here for moral support and to remind you that you’re still a disaster.”

Closing his laptop, he dropped it onto his desk with about as much care as one might show a crumpled tissue and bounced up from his seat. “I’ll have you know that this disaster finally got his application to the Spellbound Expo accepted.”

“Shut the fuck up!” I shouted, my excitement bubbling over. “Are you serious?”

Otto rounded the desk, his smile beaming from ear to ear. “I just got the email.”

“Oh, my god!” Looping my arm around his neck, I dragged him into a crushing embrace. “I’m so proud of you!”

As the biggest convention in the magical beauty world, the Spellbound Expo drew both humans and shadelings from all over the world. According to Otto, it was also highly exclusive, with fierce competition for even the smallest table in a shadowed corner.

He had spent the past six years trying to get noticed, to get his foot in the door. He’d worked his ass off, and now, the right people had finally taken notice. While I didn’t understand anything about the different types of foundation or why it mattered, I recognized the importance.

“I’m really happy for you.”

Otto pulled back from the hug, his cheeks flushed and his hair slightly mussed. “Thanks, but now I have to figure out how the hell I’m going to pull this off.”

I leaned against the desk with a raised eyebrow. “What’s the problem? You’ve got the talent, the products, and most importantly, you have me. What else is there?”

“Time. Money. Enough caffeine to keep me alive for the next three months.”

Otto began to pace, gesturing wildly with his hands as his earlier excitement gave way to a sort of frantic nervousness. As someone who had lived it, I knew exactly how he felt.

I had been over the moon when I had received my invitation to the Legacy Gala. As the realization of my success started to settle in, however, that giddiness had slowly morphed into nearly crippling anxiety.

“And the expo is in Vegas,” he continued, his voice rising now. “Do you have any idea how expensive it is to ship enchanted cosmetics across state lines? Don’t even get me started on booth design. It has to be perfect. No.” He paused mid-step and shook his head. “It has to be better than perfect.”

“Okay, Otto? Relax. Take a breath.” I held my hands up, as if that alone could hold back the tide of anxiety. “You’ve been planning for this moment for years,” I reminded him. “We’ll make a list, then tackle it one thing at a time.”

“Perfect!” His gaze zipped across the office. “We need a whiteboard.”

“Whoa!” I grabbed his shoulders, forcing him to look at me. “We’ll get a damn whiteboard, but we don’t have to do everything right now. Tonight? We’re celebrating.”

He immediately started shaking his head. “I don’t have time to celebrate!”

The gleam in his eyes, however, suggested otherwise.

I waited, letting him come to the right decision on his own.

“Fine,” he relented. “I have a client coming at three, but it’s just a consultation.” His smile softened, becoming more playful. “Some of us don’t have the luxury of spending all day in bed.”

I rolled my eyes at his obvious attempt to change the subject. “If you want to know about my mate, just ask.”

“I want to know about your mate,” he deadpanned. “Tell me everything.”

I was still working out how to describe him—or so I thought—when my mouth decided to just roll the highlight reel instead. “His name is Deaton. He’s a werewolf, insanely hot, and the sex is life changing.”

Otto’s cackling laughter rang throughout the office. “Ah, yes. The holy trinity of lasting relationships.”

“Shut up,” I grumbled. “I can’t help it.”

“You really went and got yourself cursed?”

I huffed and rolled my eyes. “No, I faked it for clout.”

“I don’t know.” Otto shrugged. “You sound the same to me.”

“Asshole,” I shot back, shoving at his shoulder. “Be careful in Vegas.”

“I don’t really plan to piss off any warlocks while I’m there.”

“Neither did I.” Joss Weller hadn’t even been on my radar until he’d decided to insert himself into my life. “Just promise me you’ll be careful.”

Otto nodded. “So, when do I get to meet this insanely hot werewolf?”

I glanced at the neon clock that hung on the wall over his desk, a grin tugging at my lips. “Soon. He’s coming to pick me up when he finishes with his MNSTR gig.”

A frown tugged at Otto’s lips, and worry lines marred his brow. “He’s still working for MNSTR? Are you okay with that?”

“It’s fine,” I assured him. “He’s just taking some elderly lady shopping. He’s not going to accept requests for date-type stuff anymore, and outside of that, what am I supposed to say? Don’t help people?”

Of course, Otto didn’t need all the details, but I had little control over how much information came out of my mouth. In this instance, it seemed to be just the right amount because his expression cleared, and he bobbed his head.

“All joking aside, are you happy?”

“Ridiculously.” I had never felt this way about anyone before, and despite everything still being pretty new, it went so much deeper than a silly crush or infatuation. “I think I love him.”

It took a moment for me to register what I’d said, and when I did, I slapped a hand over my mouth, my eyes wide and panicked.

“River?”

“No,” I moaned. “No, no, no.” Rushing over to my bag, I dug my phone out of the side pocket and shoved it toward Otto. “I need you to text him.”

“What? Why?”

I shook my head. “Text him and tell him that I love him.” Fuck! “No!” I shouted. “Tell him that we’re going out to celebrate and that I love him.” Oh. My. God. “Don’t tell him that! Just tell him not to come here!”

“River, what the hell is going on?”

“I love him.”

Otto snorted. “I know. You said it like five times.”

I closed my eyes and groaned. He really didn’t get it.

“And if he comes here, I’m going to tell him five times.”

“Oh,” he breathed. “Oh! Oh, shit!”

“Exactly.”

“Okay. This is okay. We can fix this.” He fumbled with my phone, growled, then handed it back to me. “I need your face. The screen is locked.”

We managed to unlock my phone and pull up my recent text messages with Deaton. Completely spiraling, I hadn’t considered what might be in them until Otto looked up at me, his eyes almost as wide as mine.

“Is that even physically possible?”

“Otto, please,” I begged. “We can talk about my sex life later, but I really need you to focus right now.”

“Calm down. It’s fine.”

“How is this fine?”

“I mean, it’s going to be fine,” he reasoned. “Right?”

“You’re asking me?”

“I don’t know!”

“Just text him,” I urged.

“Okay, okay. Quiet. Let me think.”

He had just started to type out a message when the bell for the front door of the studio chimed. We glanced at each other, then both turned toward the open office door. We didn’t accept walk-ins, and neither of us had a package scheduled for delivery.

“Your client?” I asked, hopeful.

He shook his head. “It’s too early.”

“River?” Deaton called, his voice ringing through the space.

My heart crashed inside my chest, my legs buckled, and if I hadn’t caught myself on the edge of the desk, I would have ended up on the floor. “What is he doing here?”

“Hide!” Otto hissed. “I’ll tell him you had to leave.”

“I’m not going to hide,” I snapped. “I’m freaking out. Not cosplaying as a toddler.”

It wouldn’t do any good anyway. Deaton would just sniff me out. Stupid werewolf.

“Back here!” Otto called, his tone bright and cheerful.

“What the hell are you doing?”

He stared at me, his expression a mask of confusion. “You said you weren’t going to hide. I’m helping.”

Since I couldn’t refute him, I just glared and made a guttural noise in the back of my throat that I hoped fully conveyed how I felt about his brand of “help.”

“Just smile and nod,” he coached. “I’ll do the rest.”

“It doesn’t work that way. Trust me, I’ve—”

The words died on my tongue, and my breath caught in my throat when Deaton appeared in the doorway, a brown paper bag clutched in his left hand.

The moment he saw me, his face split into a wide grin, and he crossed the room, striding right into my personal space as if he had every right to be there.

“Hey, baby,” he said, cradling the side of my face as he dipped his head for a quick kiss.

“My client canceled last minute.” Straightening, he held up the bag.

“So, I brought lunch.” Thankfully, he didn’t wait for a response before turning and extending his hand.

“You must be Otto. I’ve heard a lot about you. ”

“I…uh…” Eyes wide, mouth slack, Otto took his hand, his movements stiff and robotic. “Hi.”

I closed my eyes and prayed for a meteor strike.

“I’m not interrupting, am I?” Deaton asked.

“No, not at all.” Otto leaned sideways, bumping his shoulder against mine. “We were just discussing the Spellbound Expo. Right, River?”

It wasn’t technically a lie. I nodded cautiously.

Nothing happened. I didn’t spontaneously combust. The whole truth and nothing but the truth didn’t leak from my mouth.

Apparently, I had found a loophole.

Deaton tilted his head, a curious little smile on his lips. “Everything okay?”

“No,” I blurted, unable to stop myself this time. “I am completely losing my shit.”

Stepping past me, he placed the paper bag down on the desk. “Did something happen?”

“I love—”

“This weather!” Otto interjected loudly, sidestepping to stand in front of me. “We were just saying how nice it is today.”

“Is that so?” Deaton asked, his tone mildly conversational and nothing more.

“Yes.”

“No,” I countered.

Bless Otto. He was trying, and I loved him for it, but even his enthusiasm couldn’t override this stupid hex.

While I didn’t necessarily have control, I did have a choice. I could have done as Otto suggested and hid. I could have sneaked out the back door. Instead, I had decided to stay, knowing full well where it would lead.

Now, I could ante up and tell Deaton how I felt about him, or I could keep loopholing my way around the issue until the truth was forced from me without my consent. Both options came with risks, but I’d rather face the issue on my terms than let some curse hijack the moment.

“Deaton?”

“Yeah?” he answered distractedly.

“I love you.”

He grinned and pressed another kiss to my temple. “I love you, too, baby.” Then he turned back to the desk and began opening the bag containing our lunch. “Did you want the chicken burrito or the beef?”

I stared at the back of his head, stunned, my brain completely short-circuiting. “That’s it?”

“Those were the only options.” His brow wrinkled, and his mouth turned down at the corners. “Do you want something else? I can go—”

“Deaton!”

His smile returned, warm and indulgent, and he reached out to caress my cheek with the back of his hand. “You sounded like you were panicking. I didn’t want to make it worse.”

“I’m going to go get ready for my appointment,” Otto muttered. “Good luck,” he added under his breath, squeezing my hand in comfort before striding out of the room.

Alone now, I stared up at Deaton, trying to figure out what to say. For once, nothing came to mind.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

No, not even a little, but he apparently already knew that.

“How did you…?” I trailed off, my eyes rounding as the pieces snapped into place. “How much did you hear?”

Winding his arms around me, he held me close and combed his fingers through my hair. “Does it matter?”

“No,” I sighed, snuggling against him. “Not really.”

“I considered leaving,” he admitted. “I didn’t want to force anything you weren’t ready for, but then it sounded like you planned to avoid me. That wasn’t happening.”

So, he had basically heard everything. I probably should have been more embarrassed about that.

“You’re right,” I murmured, lifting my head to meet his gaze. “I was totally panicking.”

“I know, baby, and I’m sorry, too. I probably could have handled that better, but there’s no handbook for this stuff. I just didn’t want to make it harder on you.”

“We’re kind of a mess, huh?”

Chuckling, he tucked a knuckle under my chin, tilting my head back so he could claim my lips in a kiss filled with quiet possessiveness. “I love you, River. You never have to hide anything from me.”

The sincerity in his voice washed over me, warming me and chasing away the last vestiges of uncertainty. “I’d really like to go home now.”

Interpreting my words for what they truly meant, Deaton answered with a low, rumbling growl. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” I answered with confidence. “I belong to you, Deaton.”

I had always known it, and now, I wanted the rest of the world to know as well.