I lift my eyes from the stack of paperwork on my desk, shooting him a glare. “I’ve been focusing for the past five hours on all this stuff you left me. I was off for what, two days? I thought you said you’d take care of everything.”
“And I did, my friend.” Davian takes a seat in the chair across from me. “I just need your signature for some things.”
“What exactly did you decide?” I lean back and toss my pen onto the desk next to the stack.
He sits up, straightening his shoulders and holding up a finger as he lists off each idea. “Flavored Bloodka, premade Bloodka cocktails, and a few sponsorships.”
I blink at him. He really made my prior ideas a reality. I’ll give him props for that. The premade cocktails are a good idea and will be a hit with the party market. But sponsorships? Who are we sponsoring?
“Okay, I’m listening. What’re these sponsorships you’re talking about?” I lean forward on my desk, clasping my hands together in front of my mouth.
Davian clears his throat. “Movies, TV shows, the works. Paid product placement. The brand on the backdrops of red carpets.”
I nod, accepting his plan. We haven’t done anything like that yet because we weren’t sure how the launch would go. It is still a human’s world, after all. Thankfully, the launch went better than either of us could’ve imagined.
The phone on my desk clicks, my receptionist’s voice emerging with, “Mr. Coldwell, you have a visitor.”
I reach forward and hold the microphone button. “Send them up.”
Davian and I both turn to face the elevator, waiting patiently for it to arrive. I watch the numbers on the screen continue to climb, wondering who might be visiting unprompted. Maybe it’s Mallorie.
The elevator doors open, disappointment filling me. Not Mallorie. It’s Arman, the travelling wish granter who always finds a loophole so youdon’tget exactly what you want. I know Davian won’t be happy to see him after last time.
“Bold of you to show your face around here,” Davian hisses, rising from his chair, his tail whipping wildly behind him.
Arman raises his hands in surrender, grinning at him. “You need to be more specific about what it is you want when you make a wish.”
“I’ll make sure to be specific when my fist connects with your face,” Davian threatens, taking a few steps toward him with clenched fists at his sides.
“All you said was that you wanted to go home to a house full of horny people who wanted you, you never said what age they had to be.” Arman laughs, his whole body moving.
Davian’s voice thunders throughout the room, “So you fill it with elderly people? Like, on their deathbeds, elderly? Are you fucked?”
“Enough,” I command, still seated behind my desk. “Sit down, Davian. Arman, what are you here for?”
Grudgingly, Davian stalks back over to his seat, his tail swishing rapidly behind him. Arman makes his way over, taking the other armchair across from me. They look like opposites sitting there, Davian’s skin a pale pink, while Arman’s is pale blue. Davian wears a serious expression, while Arman looks amused and unbothered.
“I will be leaving the city for a while, visiting a little town called Harmony Glen. Just wanted to pop in and see if there’s anything I could do for you boys before I head out,” he says, ignoring the poisonous glare from Davian next to him.
With a firm shake of my head, I decline. “No thanks, I don’t do wishes.”
“And what a shame that is.” Arman sighs, glancing at Davian with a devilish grin. “So, what’ll it be? Want to try that wish again?”
Davian is lunging at him before I can react, but Arman was prepared, his lower half turning into mist as he floats upward out of the seat. His laughter fills the room as he flies away into the elevator, hitting the buttons rapidly as Davian rushes to the door.
Davian isn’t quick enough, the doors shutting just as his fist pounds against it. He lets out a disappointed groan, his shoulders rising and falling heavily. He’s always had a temper, as most incubi and succubi do.
“Okay, anyway.” I rub my face, trying to get back on track. “What were we saying?”
Davian huffs as he paces around the room, fists clenched at his side. “I’ll kill him if I ever see him again.”
“That’s not what we were saying.” I chuckle, taking a deep breath before I change the topic. “And neither is this, but I had a date.”
“With the blonde?” Davian’s pacing falters as his attention shifts focus.
“With Mallorie,” I correct, nodding. “But, yes. Dinner.”
Davian sits across from me, raising a brow. “Like dinner, dinner, ordinner,dinner?”
