Page 1 of The Shapeshifter’s Secretary (Charmed Away Temp Agency #3)

CHAPTER ONE

“I’m sorry, Taron. I’m turning in my resignation.”

Taron tried not to bemoan his fate. He really did. But he had a flare for dramatics, and it really did feel like his life was over.

“Say it isn’t so, Avanna! You’re breaking my heart!”

Her smile was a mix of apologetic and amused. Avanna had been his secretary for years. She was a miracle worker in keeping Taron on task and out of trouble. She also kept watch over his spending, which could get a little out of hand sometimes. Taron didn’t judge himself for that. He was a stress shopper. It helped calm him. And it wasn’t always for him. His most recent spending trip was for a local foster family who needed a hand. Supes were notorious for supporting children, whether or not they were blood related, but sometimes they needed a little hand. Taron loved helping out where he could. Besides, what young kraken didn’t need their own backyard pool?

“My daughter is coming into her voice,” Avanna explained. “She needs to be with family. I wish I could give you more notice, I thought we had more time, but apparently she’s blossomed early, and there was an… incident at school.”

Taron perked up, curiosity burning through him. “An incident? What happened?”

He was a sucker for hot gossip. Sue him.

Avanna crossed her arms over her chest, raising an eyebrow at him. He bared his teeth in the biggest, most innocent smile he could muster. He should’ve known it wouldn’t work on his secretary after this long. It never did, why would it start now?

“My daughter’s troubles aren’t for your amusement. Now, I’ve gone ahead and made a call to Charmed Away for a temp until you hire someone more permanent. I’ll be here for the next few days to train them. Again, I’m sorry I couldn’t stay longer or give proper notice, but–”

He waved away her concern. While yes, he would have preferred more notice, it wasn’t like she was doing this on purpose. “Don’t worry about that. Your family is the most important thing. Tell me what you need from me. A reference? Will you be working or staying home with her until she gains control?”

Her expression softened, and she gifted him with a small smile. “Thank you for offering, but I don’t need anything right now. In our culture, all females help the younger sirens learn their craft. I won’t be working for a while so I can be there for her, as will the rest of the women in my family.”

Hmm… That didn’t really sit well with Taron. Avanna did too much for him to just let her walk away willy-nilly.

“Tell you what. I’m going to put in the paperwork for you to get severance. A month’s pay for every year you’ve worked here at the very least. That way, you can focus on your family and not worry about money. And when you’re ready to join the workforce again, I’ll be your reference. Provided I don’t beg you to come back because there are no secretaries as wonderful as you are. You never know. Your job could be waiting for you.”

That made Avanna laugh. It wasn’t something that happened often, she mostly dealt with Taron with a heavy level of exasperation, so he counted it as a win every time he managed it.

“These things take years, Taron. I sincerely hope it doesn’t take that long to find someone to work with you. I’ll make sure to write up a handover report, just in case turnover is high, though. I doubt you’ll remember to tell your new employees to take your phone away during meetings.”

Taron gasped, mock offended. “Wait. You do that on purpose?”

She raised her eyebrows slowly at him. “If I didn’t, would you play on it during meetings and stop paying attention?”

Eh… Maybe. But in Taron’s defense, most meetings were boring. He was the ideas man. He spent a lot of his time meeting with potential inventors about projects they could fund or coming up with ideas himself. Like his newest project. That one seemed likely to be a fun time. And useful to many people. Yes. That was the sole reason he came up with it. Ask Avanna.

With a defeated sigh, Taron bowed his head. “I’ll leave the handover to your expertise. Just maybe don’t make me look completely incompetent. You know I can’t help it.”

“I know,” she said solemnly, though there was a ghost of a smile on her lips. “I promise I’ll make sure it’s clear without making you look too bad. In the meantime, try not to cause any trouble. The guilt of leaving someone else to deal with you will eat me alive if you don’t behave.”

Again with the horridly accurate insults. He smirked. This was why he loved her. He might be co-owner of the largest corporation in the country, but he was still just Taron. He appreciated Avanna’s insistence on treating him like she would anyone else. He hoped the future assistants would do the same.

* * *

“I can’t do this anymore! I quit!”

The temp slapped the files to his chest and stormed off, tail swishing like an agitated cat. Taron dropped his chin to his chest, defeated. Though, this time, it wasn’t his fault. Sort of? The handover report did say he had a tendency to wander off. Was it his fault the newest temp kept running around to find him? All he had to do was text and Taron would return to the office.

Ozen sighed heavily behind him. When Taron opened his eyes and glanced at his friend, he was pinching the bridge of his nose, like he was close to losing his patience.

“I swear, this time wasn’t my fault.”

The look Ozen gave him was a mix of irritation and disbelief. Rude. What had he done to earn his friend’s distrust?

Okay, so maybe there were a few times when he was a little reckless. Teaching the golems to play football seemed like a good idea at the time. They only broke one window. And a couch. And the reception desk. And nearly took out a few interns. No one actually got hurt.

And there was the time he shifted to look like Ozen and nearly got arrested. In his defense, Ozen had to reschedule a meeting because his mate wasn’t feeling well and the client wasn’t happy about it. Taron was trying to help. How was he supposed to know that it was illegal for an incubus to flirt without express understanding of what they were first? Really, those laws were convoluted. Who stated their race before flirting with someone?

So maybe Ozen had a reason to be a little wary. But this time really wasn’t his fault! He was meeting with Ozen! That was part of his job!

“Honestly, Ozen, I think this time he’s right,” Avery said from his desk. Avery was Ozen’s mate, a romance author who used to work as a temp himself. He was the best person to have backing him up right now.

“Why do you say that, firefly?” Ozen asked, turning his focus to his mate. Taron shot a pleading look at Avery to save him. Avery rolled his eyes before answering.

“The handover report actually says not to chase him. I read it myself after the second temp quit. They’re supposed to text him to get him to come back to the office, and if he doesn’t reply within fifteen minutes, then they can call. If the newest temp decided to ignore that and got overwhelmed by constantly chasing Taron around, that was his own fault.”

Taron pointed at Avery, eyes wide with vindication. “See? Not my fault.”

Ozen’s sigh was years' worth of exasperation. “Fine. I’ll let this one slide. But what about the other two?”

He winced. Did he have to explain that?

From the look on Ozen’s face, yes, he did. Ugh.

“Well, the first one said it was exhausting trying to keep me focused, and they needed to hand the job off to someone with more energy. The second had a problem with my appearance.”

Avery made a startled sound, his head whipping up from his computer. “They what?”

Ozen put up a staying hand, giving Taron a blank look. “Explain that.”

Taron wrinkled his nose. “He didn’t like how often I changed my appearance. He said I was insulting people by augmenting certain aspects of myself and making fun of others.”

Which was absolutely one hundred percent untrue. Taron changed his appearance because, as a shapeshifter, staying in one form too long was uncomfortable. Granted, he did change little things pretty often. Making his eyes bigger, giving himself a more pronounced nose, that kind of thing. It was fun, and most people seemed to enjoy it. But in no way was that because he was making fun of people. Everyone was beautiful to Taron. No exceptions.

“That’s a dumb reason to quit,” Avery commented, turning back to his computer. “You’d think a temp would be more willing to roll with the punches. When I was working there, I couldn’t afford to turn down jobs over something so silly.”

Ozen grunted his agreement and sat back in his chair, eyeing Taron suspiciously. Taron widened his eyes, playing up his innocence. It really wasn’t his fault. And he felt like he deserved a little more support. He lost the greatest assistant known to all supernaturals, and without her, his life was vastly more difficult. Perhaps he needed to take bereavement. She didn’t die, but it felt like he lost a limb with her gone.

“I’ll have Collette call the temp agency and get you someone else. I’m not sure they’ll be willing with the amount of turnover you’ve had. You may need to cope on your own for a while. We still haven’t found someone to replace Avanna permanently. Most of the secretaries in the pool are conveniently too busy to apply.”

Avery snickered, which, rude. Taron narrowed his eyes on the little human. “I thought you were my friend.”

Avery’s eyes danced with amusement when he said, “I am. And I enjoy watching you suffer a little. It serves you right after my birthday party.”

“Oh come on! That was fun!”

Ozen’s growl said it really wasn’t. Mates were notoriously territorial, and when Taron kidnapped Avery to take him out dancing, he conveniently forgot to mention it to Ozen and Avery’s phone died before he could alert his mate of his whereabouts. It only took a couple of hours for Taron to realize his friend was calling him. His phone had been on silent for a meeting earlier in the day and he forgot to switch it back. Besides, Avery had fun. You know, once Ozen joined them. Avery had to drag the incubus to the dance floor to save Taron’s life. They spent most of the night after that dancing together. Seemed like a fair exchange to him.

Widening his eyes and sticking his bottom lip out in his patented pout, he batted his lashes at Avery. The only one who’d save him was conveniently enjoying his pain. What a cruel world this was turning out to be.

Avery, always a sucker for the pout, sighed heavily. “Fine. Ozen, why don’t you let me make the call. I can speak to Morana directly and discuss someone who might better suit Taron’s… disposition.”

Avery wasn’t an assistant anymore, he was the author of the sexiest books known to all supernatural kind, but sometimes he offered a hand to his mate when he had the time. Ozen looked torn, he didn't like to abuse his mate’s good will, but necessity drove him to dip his chin in agreement.

“Alright, firefly. I’ll trust your judgment.” He turned to Taron, narrowing his eyes. “Keep this one longer than a week, or so help me, I’ll leave you without a secretary for a month.”

Yikes.

“I’ll be on my best behavior,” he swore adamantly.

Probably.