Page 11 of The Shapeshifter’s Secretary (Charmed Away Temp Agency #3)
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“Tony. Have you ever thought about becoming salaried?”
Tony looked up with a frown. They’d been seated at a table near the back, and Taron had ordered at least two of every taco on the menu. At first, Tony thought it’d be too much, but after his first bite, he realized why Taron was so overzealous. They were delicious and halfway through the meal, he wondered if maybe they should’ve ordered more. He was so distracted by stuffing his face that he didn't see the conversation coming.
“Wha’?”
Taron snickered, and Tony felt his cheeks flush. He forgot for a minute that he was eating with his boss. It was rude to talk with your mouth full, especially in front of your superiors. Whoops.
Swallowing the bite, he gave Taron an apologetic smile. “Sorry. What?”
Taron toyed idly with his napkin, his chin propped on hand. He looked thoughtful and a little nervous, honestly. Tony had no clue why.
“Well, you mentioned before that human insurance is awful. If you became a salaried employee, you’d be covered by company insurance first. For most big companies, they pay into the government provided health care. It’d cover the costs of your treatment. They can’t discriminate on how much they cover by race. That’s not legal.”
Setting down the rest of his taco, Tony sighed. This hurt to say out loud. “I can’t get hired as a salaried employee. I tried. It’s hard enough finding a job as a human. Finding one as a disabled human is nearly impossible. I was lucky that the temp agency took me on, but even Morana has trouble finding me work. I’m a liability. No one wants to hire me.”
“I’d hire you,” Taron said offhandedly.
Tony’s brows drew together tightly. “For what?”
“For my assistant, of course. You are far more patient with me than the others have been. I thought after Avanna left, I’d never find someone who could put up with me and my quirks. But you haven’t gotten annoyed with me once.”
Well, yeah, but there wasn’t really anything to get annoyed about. He still didn’t understand why Taron had such a hard time finding help. It was all in the handover report. And anything that wasn’t, he could ask around. If that was all there was to it, then Tony would be happy to take the job, but he wasn’t oblivious.
“I know I’m only doing half the work I’m supposed to be doing, Taron. I should be delivering files and picking up mail, things like that. Things I can’t pull off without hurting myself. And I haven’t missed the hovering. You don’t think I can do the job either. I appreciate you wanting to help me, but you need someone who can actually do the work.”
Taron pouted. “But I like having you there. And you’ll get better. Doctor Chapman is no slouch. He can’t regrow limbs, but he can make you more comfortable and able to function. You never know. You could end up doing all those things yourself once you’ve had some treatment.”
Tony had been careful to not getting his hopes up about that doctor's visit. He still couldn’t afford it. The initial free appointment might do something to take the edge off, but it wouldn’t last. The doctor said it’d be a lifelong thing. The military doctors said the same thing. He’d always struggle, even with help. He couldn’t afford to keep that kind of treatment up.
He shook his head slowly. “I can’t take a job I know I’m not qualified for, just for the insurance. There’s no telling if the treatments would work anyway. You’re busy, and you shouldn’t have to do my work for me. Thank you, Taron, but I can’t.”
Taron’s pout grew, which made it so much harder to keep his resolve. He hated disappointing Taron after he’d been so kind and understanding from the moment they met. But it’d feel wrong to take a job like that. He wanted to earn it. To know he could handle it. He didn't want to be a burden, especially to Taron.
“What if we get an intern to help you?” Taron implored. “Just until you feel better. I’d rather you be focused on keeping me on schedule anyway. You’ve got more important things to deal with than delivering files and picking up mail. I’m a full-time job.”
He said it teasingly, but there was a hint of vulnerability there. Tony got the feeling Taron had been criticized a lot for the way he did things. It wasn’t fair to treat him poorly just because he did his best work away from his desk. He wasn’t co-owner of the company in name only.
“I…”
He wanted to help Taron. He liked working with him. But it still felt wrong to accept. He didn’t know what to do.
“Can I have time to think about it?”
Taron looked a little sad that he didn't accept right away, but he masked it with a smile that was obviously forced. He reached across the table, putting his hand on top of Tony’s.
“Of course. Take all the time you need.”
* * *
He spent the weekend thinking about it, and the answer didn’t become any clearer to him by Monday morning. He was conflicted, knowing he needed accommodations no matter what job he got but unwilling to be a burden to such a kind man. He wished he had someone to talk to for advice, but his family didn’t pretend very well that they cared about him anymore. Though he could make a guess what they’d say. He brought shame to the family by coming home broken. He’d only shame them more by taking a handout.
The over-the-counter pain salve that Taron got him took the edge off the pain only slightly better than the pain cream from his own doctors. It was the bed rest that Tony gave himself that helped the most. It didn’t make all the pain go away, and a few new aches popped up from not moving around a lot, but it helped enough that when he went to work on Monday, he was at least not wincing when he moved.
Taron was waiting for him in the lobby, and flashed him a brilliant smile when Tony approached. “Good morning, my lovely assistant.”
Tony felt his cheeks flush a little. Taron wasn’t shy about giving compliments. It sent a little flurry of pleasure through him every time Taron said something like that. He didn’t think anyone would say that kind of thing to him after what happened.
“Good morning. Do you have a meeting, or are you walking around?”
“Neither. We’re going out. Did you forget we have an appointment?”
Tony grimaced. No. He’d just purposely blocked the memory out. He wasn’t looking forward to it. Yes, he hoped they could do something to help with the pain, but he didn’t want to get his hopes up and he never enjoyed showing anyone his scars. He didn’t want to face the doctor again.
Taron’s hand slipped into Tony’s free one, and he laced their fingers together. Tipping his head, he gave him an understanding smile, his voice low and soothing over the din of the busy lobby.
“It’s okay. I’ll be right there with you. You don’t have to do this alone.”
And he meant that. Taron didn’t leave his side the whole time. He politely averted his eyes when Tony was asked to undress and focused on the magic instead, watching the druids work. That’s what the people with horns were. Druids. Their earth magic made them talented healers. Taron explained that to him, distracting him while they worked, casting spells to better understand the injury and how to help him.
After a while, Doctor Chapman stepped up beside him and gave him the first smile he’d seen from the man. “We’re going to put you to sleep now. The human mind tends to fight foreign magic. It’s a defense mechanism from before, I think. It’ll be easier to help you if the initial spells are done while you’re unconscious. You won’t be out long, an hour at most, and you won’t feel any of it. It will be like a heavy nap. When you awaken, we’ll explain what comes next. Alright?”
Nerves danced in his belly, and his hand tightened automatically around Taron’s. He’d never had magic done on him before. Even the salve that Taron bought him was a first. He didn't know what to expect.
“A thaisce,” Taron murmured, drawing Tony’s attention back to him. “I’ll watch over you while you sleep. You have nothing to fear. Let the doctors help you.”
And for some reason, despite only knowing him for less than a week, Tony trusted everything he said.
Closing his eyes, Tony focused on Taron’s hand in his. His fingers were longer than Tony’s, like a pianist, and his palms were unblemished by callouses. Tony’s were rough with them after years in the military, but Taron didn’t comment on it. He cupped Tony’s hand between both of us and didn’t let go, even after Tony felt his consciousness slip away from him.
When he woke, he felt like he’d taken a nap, like the doctor said. He was refreshed and alert, and for the first time since the incident, he didn’t feel any pain. He knew it wouldn’t last, they couldn’t magically fix everything, but for a few minutes, he just breathed and enjoyed it.
“Are you awake, a thaisce?”
Tony hummed to acknowledge him but didn’t open his eyes. Taron didn’t rush him. His hand tightened in Tony’s in a reassuring squeeze but otherwise, he patiently waited for him to be ready. When Tony did open his eyes, Taron was right where he’d been when Tony had fallen asleep. He held Tony’s hand in one of his, the other playing a game on his phone.
“What game is that?”
“Tetris. Old school, I know, but I like it. I got the high score one year when I was young. My parents were surprised it kept my attention long enough to pull that off.” Taron looked up from his game, smiling at him. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m okay,” Tony answered honestly. “How long have I been asleep?”
Taron tipped his head, thinking about it. “Around two hours? It didn’t take that long, but they noticed you hadn't been sleeping well, so they had the spell wear off slowly so you could get your rest.”
While it was true that he hadn’t slept well since the incident, it was hard to get comfortable when he was in that much pain, he probably would’ve argued against sleeping in. Especially when he remembered the schedule for the day. He sat up suddenly, sucking in a sharp breath.
“The Thunderbird project! You’re supposed to be there soon!”