Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 82080 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82080 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
I walk to the closet situated off the bathroom and flip on the light. And freeze. Yesterday, I’d dropped my bag into the middle of it with the intention of hanging up my clothes once I had some down time. The bag is gone. Now the space is filled to the brim. On one side is apparently my work wear, an array of fabrics in very small packages. On the other are more clothes than I’ve seen in one place since I left home. Slacks in black and gray. Button-down shirts in a wide range of colors. They’ve even bought me fucking shoes.
I wrap my towel around my waist and raise my voice. “Tink!”
“I’m not watching you wank it.”
Her response almost detracts from my growing irritation. “Get in here.”
She walks through the door and frowns. “What?”
“My closet.” I motion at it. “What the fuck is this? Where the hell are my clothes?”
She peers past me and gives me a look like I’m having one over on her. “Is this a trick question? You have plenty of clothes.”
I feel like I’ve entered a completely different world all over again. I thought I had things down, at least a little, but I didn’t expect something as surface level as this closet being filled to rock me. And yet it is. “Where did they come from?”
“Oh. That” Tink rolls her eyes. “I know you liked your beggar white-bread style, but you can’t dress like that here. Hades and the Underworld have a reputation, and as employees of both, we are part of upholding that.”
I point at her chest. “What about what you’re wearing?”
“Look, I have seniority and I’m playing errand girl when I’m off the clock, so how about we don’t criticize my excellent taste in clothing?” Her humor is gone and she’s glaring again. “Put on some clothes and let’s go. We’ve wasted enough time and I have shit to do today.”
This time, I don’t argue. In the end, we all answer to Hades and expelling my frustration at Tink is a shitty thing to do. I pull on a pair of black slacks and a light gray shirt. There are ties, but I ignore them. A quick comb through my hair and I’m ready. Tink doesn’t say anything as she takes me up to the top floor, and I miss her snark a little bit. She punches the button to keep the elevator door open when we reach our floor. “Only door in there. That’s where you’re headed.”
“I’m sorry.”
She blinks. “What?”
“I didn’t mean to put you on the spot about the clothes. I was just surprised and you were there so I took it out on you.”
Another of those slow blinks. “Hercules, you barely raised your voice.”
Her shock at my apology doesn’t make me feel better. In fact, it makes me feel worse. “I’m sorry.”
“Uh… consider it forgiven.” She motions for me to get the hell out of the elevator. This time, I obey.
This isn’t the same office from last night—or even the same floor. I’m not sure what I expect when I push open the door, but it’s not the room I find myself standing in. Aside from the big windows overlooking Carver City, the walls are filled with black bookshelves from floor to ceiling, and the shelves are packed with books. Not just filed neatly. They’re stacked as if the occupant ran out of space and couldn’t bear to sacrifice even one. I barely notice the desk and overstuffed chairs across from it, or the thick patterned rug beneath my feet as I wander to the nearest shelf. Again, I’m surprised. The books are genre fiction, each spine weathered as if they’ve been reread countless times. Mystery, fantasy, romance, science fiction.
“By all means, feel free to look your fill.”
I jump and turn to face the desk. Hades sits behind it, watching me with an amused expression on his face. As I’m coming to expect, he’s wearing black-on-black again. He’s as put together as ever, and the exhaustion weighing me down after last night seems to roll right off him. He motions to one of the chairs across from him. “Sit.”
I consider standing just to make a point, but it’s a silly hill to choose to die on. I walk to the closest chair and sink into it. It’s a rich emerald green that somehow fits in with the rest of the office, luxurious and sturdy and obviously well-loved. The whole room feels comfortable in a way I’m not prepared for. “Can I ask you a question?” I don’t intend to speak, but I don’t do well with secrets and bullshit. I’d rather just get this all out in the open so I can deal with it.
Hades raises his brows. “By all means.”
“What did my father do to you to piss you off enough to target me?”