“Well, I’m off. My office is just around the corner. There’s a directory on your desk. Buzz if you need anything.”
I keep nodding, determined to make it through my first day without incident.
Then, with her wings fluttering, Amara vanishes.
I stare at my desk, at the computer, at the abyss. “Okay,” I mutter. “Let’s do this.”
I move the mouse. The monitor flickers. Then flashes red.
ERROR: OOPS. WE’VE RUN INTO A PROBLEM. PLEASE CONTACT YOUR SYSTEM ADMINISTRATOR.
“Excuse me?”
A pixelated cartoon demon appears, wagging its finger at me.
“Oh, come on. I haven’t even typed anything.”
I glance around. Am I on one of those hidden camera shows?
I jab the keyboard. Nothing. I pull the mouse. It squeaks. The screen flickers. Something groans.
“Okay,” I mutter. “Maybe I should’ve stuck with waiting tables.”
That’s when a large shadow falls across my desk.
“Crash it already?”
I look up—and up—at a mountain of emerald green muscle and rolled-up sleeves. Broad shoulders. Thick glasses that magnify his giant green eyes. Forearms thatcould bench-press me. Or a small bus. Shirt buttons that barely stay closed from his massive torso. More pens in his shirt pocket than anyone should legally possess. A cell phone case on his belt because stashing it in his pocket isn’t nerdy enough for him. Of course, I’ve met orcs before, but this one wears an expression that doesn’t match his size—gentle, almost careful. His tusks peek out from a grin that’s all good humor and zero menace. He appears… charming.
“It—it just… happened,” I stammer. “I swear, I didn’t touch anything. I mean, I tried to turn it on.”
He chuckles, low and warm. “That’s where you went wrong. Name’s Greg.” He points at the badge stretched across his massive pec.
Of course his name’s Greg. Aren’t all IT gods named Greg?
Oops. I’m staring at his chest—I mean, badge—and completely forget to form words. Finally, it clicks. “Sean Rivers. I’m… Mr. Frost’s new assistant.”
He crouches beside me, and the chair creaks under my weight as I try not to notice how close he is. Suddenly I’m enveloped in the scent of cinnamon and cedar. Like someone baked cookies over a roaring fire.
Focus, Sean.
He’s peering at the monitor, glasses sliding down his nose. When he pushes them back up with a thick finger, his deep green eyes meet mine for a heartbeat, and the closeness hits like static. Way too close for someone I’ve just met. My chest tightens, and my brain decides now is the perfect time to turn to scrambled eggs.
“Ah.” Greg’s fingers dance over the keyboard with surprising grace. “Looks like the firewall’s having a little fun with you. It likes to pick on people at random. Your computer gets its operating system from the network, which is why you were dead in the water,” Greg explains, typing rapidly.
“Lucky me.”
He laughs, tusks peeking through a grin, the sound deep and rolling but with a softness that makes it… warm. “Your password is new, so it locked you out until someone clears it.”
“But I didn’t enter a password.”
“Well, I guess it’s playing games with you.”
“That’s… absurd.”
“Welcome to Labyrinth Solutions. Absurdity is our specialty.”
His tusks flash when he smiles. My brain flashes something too, but it’s not technical.
