“Uh, yeah. About that. There were some issues with the delivery.”
He arched one furry eyebrow. “Oh?”
“Perhaps we could discuss this tomorrow at work.”
“No.”
My shoulders slumped. I had hoped to have a little time to prepare my defense.
“The person I was supposed to make the delivery to was already dead when I arrived,” I said.
Jerry’s face darkened. I stepped back, my apartment suddenly seeming small and confining. It would be difficult to dodge his bulk, and I’d locked the door behind me.
“Explain.”
And I did. I explained about the werewolves delaying the delivery even after I announced I was with Hermes couriers, about finding the dead guy, my incarceration, the subsequent deal with the sorcerer and everything that had followed in the last few days.
I held my breath when I’d finished, holding myself prepared to flee. I’d never seen Jerry violent, just heard the gossip around the water cooler.
He sighed. “You should have informed me of this situation several days ago. While you failed to meet your deadline, there were mitigating circumstances, and the werewolves share responsibility. You might have avoided a lot of trouble had you simply reported back like you were supposed to.”
I blinked. He had taken that incredibly well.
“I’ll make sure to do that next time,” I said, not quite believing my luck. I had fully expected to be fired at best and dead or maimed at worst after this conversation.
“Now, on to more important things.”
I let myself relax.
“Where’s Cherry?”
Shit. His car. I’d totally forgotten, what with the kidnapping and all.
His eyes were penetrating as they stared me down. I felt like a teenager facing my dad after putting a scratch down the side of his brand-new vehicle.
“About that.”
“I didn’t hear it before you came in,” he said.
“Yes, well, funny story.”
“Where’s my car, Aileen?” he thundered.
“It’s fine. I made sure nothing touched it.”
“Then where is it?”
I made a face. “I’m not really sure.”
He stood in an explosion of movement. I flinched back. He adjusted his clothes and grabbed his coat, yanking it on in angry movements. I watched with wary eyes.
“I’m going home. That car had better be there before you come into work tomorrow, and there had better not be a single dent or scratch.”
“Of course, Jerry.”
He paused at my door, “Oh, and Aileen.” He waited until I looked at him before continuing. “I’ll be charging a fee for the past four days use of my car. Think of it as a rental fee. I think a thousand dollars a day is fair, don’t you?”
I swallowed my protest. That was nearly half the fee owed me for this job.
