Page 65 of A Subtle Scar
“Well, first of all, you put your phone back in your pocket, Ronny. I’ll arrange it.”
“Right,” Ronny said sweetly. “I’ll put my phone in my pocket, but I am not allowed to call it a pocket phone even though I have it in my pocket.”
It wasn’t so much that I wanted to pull his hair but throttle him when he was being like that. And the way he was behaving indicated that he was happy about something.
I beckoned for Florence to touch her phone to mine for her contact, sent off my message to @EmmInBrunswick, the friendly police officer from the field, informing her Florence desired her partner, and then it clicked. Ronny wastoohappy. The kind of happiness where nothing could faze him, and that didn’t just come about randomly.
“What did you do?” I asked him.
“Well, he didn’t barge into my office with a box of doughnuts and then refuse to share them. My mom says I have only myself to blame for my lack of motivation in life, and she won’t bake for me anymore,” Florence said.
I opened the box for her without taking my eyes off Ronny. “Just one. These are for Chandler. Ronny?”
He shrugged, put a hand on his hip, and turned his nose up in that smug way he had. Not often, but when he knew it would annoy me.
“You fucked Chandler without me being there?”
Florence cleared her throat, a pink doughnut in her hand. “I would give you the room, but this is where I do my filing, and I also have to guard the files. Plus, this is very hot. If you’re going for make-up sex in here though, Dr. Kurtz will have your asses.”
There was a lot of evidence to support that humans were boring more often than not, but Florence was acceptable.
“Don’t worry, Florence. Hermes wouldn’t try bending me over your desk to even the scales after a small blowjob.”
I clutched the doughnut box to me, but I didn’t want to give Chandler squished doughnuts, so I controlled my strength. “Wouldn’t I?”
Ronny shrugged. “I had to do it. He needed it. Plus, he asked for it.”
“He needed it?” Fuck. We had agreed on spoiling Chandler, so I couldn’t really get angry. I did feel neglected though. I wasn’t going to tell Ronny that.
“Yes.”
“I bet he did,” Florence said, her mouth full of pink sugar and cream filling.
“Where is our boyfriend anyway?” I asked. “I’d like to make sure he wasn’t exposed to avoidable humans unnecessarily.”
Ronny pointed behind me, and I turned. A big window with a glass door right next to it separated this office from the rest of the workplace. On our side of the window, pens and computers were used. On the other side, scalpels and chainsaws. No, not chainsaws. What did the cop shows say about cutting through the ribs? Bolt cutters, that was it.
Our boyfriend stood in front of a stainless steel slab. There was another magic user next to him, and while this place smelled strongly of death, that human’s magic looked like necromancy. The paraphernalia that were visible focused his magic, presumably to raise the corpse I glimpsed. Another human in a white coat watched them, likely to oversee that the very mushed up corpse wasn’t damaged any further.
For the time being, Chandler seemed busy. I could see him taking notes while the necromancer worked his hand flying over the paper, long fingers cradling his pen.
“What did you say about our boyfriend being very hot?” Ronny asked. He walked up to me to stand on my right.
“He’s a total ten. He has the respect and admiration of several other humans, Trony, and possibly Lucy. Don’t you see? He is desirable, even beyond just his looks, although we can both agree his looks stir all the desire.”
Ronny hummed and nodded. “All of it.”
“But the thing with tens is—mind you, I never bothered with them, but I hear they are high maintenance. They know that if you don’t give them what they want, they can move on to someone who will, and there are so many people who would want Chandler. Which is why we must give him everything.”
“Uhm, Hermes, I’m not sure all good-looking people just want to be showered with gifts,” Florence said. “For example, I don’t look too shabby, and all I want is to not be a doctor and spend my evenings on the couch in sweatpants.”
“That’s how nines talk,” I told her.
“That was rude,” Ronny said.
“I’ll forgive him,” Florence said. “Silvio just texted me.”
“I think you’re wrong about Chandler,” Ronny said while I could hear Florence text behind us. “He wants to change the world. He needs to know he makes it a better place, a safer place.”
