Chapter 7
Breaking the Distance
Aubrey
I’m trying not tofeel guilty about spending seven dollars on coffee, but Maggie’s enthusiasm is infectious. Besides, she’s right: we deserve to celebrate. She’s finally landed her first successful client after months of trying to launch her side business as Houston’s first monster-human matchmakingconsultant, and I’ve finally started padding my savings account again thanks to two weeks of Sundar’s generous salary.
While Monday had felt like it lasted forever, what with our mutual professionalism and the appearance of Sundar’s apparent ex, the rest of the week moved fast enough without incident, and now it’s Friday morning.
“I still can’t believe it worked,” Maggie says, both hands wrapped around her seasonal pumpkin-chai-whatever. “When Marcus first came to me, all ‘my pack won’t stop talking about legacy’ this and ‘I hate dating apps’ that, I thought maybe I was in over my head.”
“But then you remembered Sarah?” I take a sip of my own drink, remembering how excited Maggie had been when she realized her yoga instructor friend might be perfect for her werewolf client.
“Exactly! I mean, here’s this guy who just wants someone peaceful in his life, without all the pack politics, and Sarah’s literally the most zen person I know.” Maggie looks off dreamily. “I still can’t believe I convinced them both to let me arrange a meeting at her studio. Just imagine the sight, Sarah demonstrating the mountain pose to this absolutely anxious werewolf. And I mean, Marcus is this big burly guy, probably bench presses compact cars for fun, but he’s looking at her likeshe’sabout to bitehim.”
“And now?” I ask, genuinely curious. Maggie’s been talking about breaking into monster-human matchmaking ever sincethe Great Unveiling made public mixed relationships possible, but this is her first real success.
“Now?” Maggie practically vibrates in her seat. “Now Marcus just asked me for advice on how to propose.” She grins, stirring her drink with unnecessary flair. “But enough about my budding matchmaking empire. Tell me more about Monday’s drama with the ex. You promised you’d give me the details. A naga ex-girlfriend? There was a showdown, right?”
My stomach twists at the memory of Nalini’s calculated grace, how she’d made the whole shop feel small with just a few perfectly aimed words. “She was exactly what you’d expect from someone who probably has ‘Professional Mean Girl’ on her temple guardian resume. All designer scales and backhanded compliments.”
“And Sundar defended you?” Maggie leans forward, eyes sparkling. “Details, girl!”
“I mean, kind of?” I shrug, trying to ignore how warm I feel remembering his flared hood, his barely contained anger at Nalini’s dismissal of me. “But it doesn’t matter. He probably just felt obligated since I’m an employee.”
“Uh huh.” Maggie’s expression turns knowing. “Like he felt ‘obligated’ to create this suspiciously well-paying job just for you?”
“Actually…” I trace the rim of my cup, debating whether to share what’s been eating at me all week. “I found somethingin his ledgers last Friday. He helps everyone else, Mags. Like, constantly. Waives interest, extends payment terms, even fixes items for free. But with me?” I swallow hard. “He set the harshest possible terms. Then only offered me this job after I broke down crying about my pathetic life.”
“Honey.” Maggie’s voice softens. “Have you considered that maybe—”
“Don’t.” I hold up a hand. “Whatever romance movie scenario you’re cooking up, just don’t. He’s centuries old, probably worth millions, and used to literally guarding sacred temples. I’m just… temporary help he felt sorry for.”
“Right.” Maggie’s eyebrow arches. “Because ancient temple guardians totally hire random crying girls out of pity. Think about it, Bree. Like you said, he’s centuries old, used to slithering around ancient temples or whatever. Maybe he doesn’t know how else to get a girl to spend time with him.”
I practically choke on my coffee. “That’s ridiculous.”
“Is it?” She stirs her drink thoughtfully. “It sure sounds like he created a job just to keep you around.”
“Stop,” I say as I gather my purse with deliberate slowness, trying to project a sense of ‘dignified exit’ rather than ‘running away from uncomfortable truths.’ “I need to get to work. Some of us can’t spend all morning matchmaking supernatural couples.”
“Hey, I’m just getting started.” Maggie grins, completely unfazed by my attempt to change the subject. “Maybe I should add naga dating services to my repertoire. I bet there’s a whole untapped market of lonely temple guardians out there…”
“I’m leaving now.”
“Okay. Just think about what I said!” She waves her coffee cup cheerfully.
I wave her off without looking back, but I can hear her laughing as I push through the coffee shop door. The morning heat hits me like a wall, Houston’s infamous humidity already making my carefully styled hair start to curl.
The walk to work usually takes fifteen minutes, but today every step feels weighted with Maggie’s implications. When I reach the shop, I pause outside to collect myself. Through the window, I can see Sundar examining what looks like a Victorian-era dueling pistol, probably checking for enchantments before putting it on display. His movements are methodical as he tests the mechanism, his tail swaying slightly as he works.
A stack of comic books waiting to be priced sits beside him—and I momentarily forget I’m mad at him as I think about how cute it is to see a centuries-old naga appraising everything from cursed weapons to vintage Superman.
I find myself watching how his scaled fingers handle the delicate pieces, remembering how carefully they’d brushed against mine during last week’s lesson. How his tail had…
Professional. Distance.
I square my shoulders and enter, the familiar bell chiming my arrival. Sundar’s head turns immediately, his tongue flicking out to taste the air. For a moment, something flashes in those golden eyes—something that makes my stomach flip—but then his expression smooths into careful neutrality.
