This is going to hurt. Using my magic again will drain me and make me ill. Resorting to gold dust could kill me.
I have no choice. I can’t support myself. I’ve applied everywhere and have no prospects. I will end up crawling back to my parents or be on the street if I don’t do this.
I’ll never get an opportunity like this again.
I have no idea if I can trust this dragon. He’s not like me. He’s not even the same species.
I am weirdly and undeniably attracted to Sebastian York, and I would regret to my dying day giving this opportunity to another witch.
Those last two mark me as a complete idiot. I’m putting my life in this guy’s hands. This entire thing might be a suicide mission. But at least there’s a mission to it. After my last application was auto-rejected, doing something riskier for work was looking more and more like my only option. Things like selling pictures of my feet on the internet or learning to dance with a pole came to mind. Jobs that would probably upend my life. At least this is for a good cause. I could end up saving someone.
I rock back on my heels as an awkward silence unravels between us. “So, um, do you want to give me the address or…”
He shakes his head. “I thought you could come with me now.” He looks around the place, focusing on a moldy black stain growing in the corner of the kitchenette that has refused to budge, no matter how hard I’ve scrubbed. I’ve been willfully ignoring it for the better part of the year.
“Now?”
“Feel free to pack only the essentials. I’ll send one of my assistants to get the rest of it once we have you settled. We can have your furniture moved into storage.”
“Storage?” I’m confused. “Why can’t it just stay here, in this apartment?”
“This offer comes with a place to live and a studio, remember? I promise you, the accommodations will be completely acceptable. I assumed you would want to let this place go.”
I tuck my hair behind my ear. “I know you said that, but like, what if I can’t do it? What if I try and fail? I haven’t even been in the same room as this object yet. I can’t promise you?—”
“All I’m asking is that you try.”
“But this apartment is the only affordable place for miles,” I say. Even after the rent increase, I will never find a better apartment at this price.
He moves in closer, studying me, his eyes reflecting the light in a weird way that turns them gold like a cat’s. His nearness is intense, and I almost give in to an instinct to rise up on my toes and sniff his neck.
“Perhaps we aren’t understanding each other clearly. I will provide you with a place to live, Zoe, until such time as you choose to leave, if you choose to leave. You need not ever return to this building again.” He darts another glance around the place. “It would be preferable to me if you didn’t.”
I swallow hard. He could be lying, but my gut tells me he’s not. Besides, I can’t afford the rent anymore anyway. “All right.” I nod slowly. “I’ll just be a few minutes.”
He slants a charming smile and clasps his hands behind his back, waiting.
I shift my weight from foot to foot. This place is an efficiency unit, which means there are only two doors. One leads to a bathroom with a toilet, shower, and sink, with just enough space to turn around. The other is the way he came in—the front door. I almost ask him to go wait in the hall and then decide that would be rude. Instead, I open the drawer to my dresser that doubles as a TV stand and pull out a change of clothes. Then I head into the bathroom for a quick shower.
When I come out a good twenty minutes later, I feel like a new person in a skirt and a kelly-green top. Seb is on his phone, mumbling something about reports and working remotely. I pull my suitcase from under the credenza and start throwing in everything that will fit.
He excuses himself off the call and comes to my side. “It helps if you roll them,” he says, taking one of my T-shirts and folding it in half before rolling it from the bottom up. He slides the now cylindrical shirt into the corner of my bag.
“Um, I can do this,” I say, incredulous.
“I don’t mind helping.” He pulls another handful of clothing from my drawer. As he turns to me, a thong swings from his pinkie. My cheeks heat.
“Really,” I say, grabbing the clothes from his hands. “I’ll get this. If you want to wait in the hall or downstairs, I swear I’ll be right out.”
His eyes snag on the thong I just tore from his hands, and the faintest red tinge colors his cheeks. I lift a brow. “I’ll be in the hall.”
Ten minutes later, with my guitar in one hand and my rolling bag in the other, I join him in the hall, noticing one of the wheels isn’t working right. He hoists it like it weighs nothing, tucking it under his arm when he notices the handle threatening to break under the weight. Together, we descend the stairwell.
As we reach the second floor, Mrs. Everett appears, blocking our path. Her gaze slides over me and then Seb, lingering on the fine quality of his clothes, his watch, and then his shoes. She adjusts her glasses on her nose. “Ms. Willow, will you be signing the new lease? I really need to know as soon as possible. If I don’t have a new lease, agreeing to the new terms, I’ll have to evict you at the end of the month.”
I glance at Seb. Here goes nothing. “No, Mrs. Everett. I won’t be signing the new lease. I’ll be out by the end of the month.”
The old woman grows cross, her finger rising between us. “This is unacceptable. Your current lease requires thirty days’ notice before leaving the apartment. You have not given notice. You will owe for one more month’s rent. Plus the lease breakage fee.”
