Crazy Thing (The Brighton Family #5)

Chapter 11

11

ZIGGY

D arius sends me a look of utter suspicion. “So now you want to work together…?”

“You clearly need some help around here. So, I’ll work as your assistant,” I explain slowly. Then, I rush out the next part. “And in exchange, you’ll give my friends the money they need to hire a good lawyer to save the waterfall.” I hold my breath.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Excuse me?!” Darius is now giving me the crazy eyes.

I shrug, trying to act unfazed by his outburst. “You were right. I can’t let Edison win here. That asshole actively tried to ruin my baby sister’s whole life. I’ll never forgive that manwhore for the way he treated Daphne.”

“Well, that asshole actively tried to steal my brother’s medical clinic away from him,” Darius adds. “I’m not forgiving him, either.”

“So, we can agree on something,” I say with a small nod. “We have a common enemy.”

“Yes, we do have a common enemy,” Darius replies cautiously, like he doesn’t trust agreeing with me .

That’s okay. I don’t trust me either in this moment.

“Good. So, I’ll work here at the office for you, and you’ll give my friends the money for the lawyer. Easy peasy.”I paste on an amiable smile.

Darius rears back. “Hell to the no. That is not how this is going to work, Fairy Girl. You’re not going to take my money and just shove me to the sidelines. If we’re going to work on this problem, we are going to work on it together .”

I grunt. I half-expected this reaction, but I was still hoping Darius would just go along with my plan without making this more weird than it already is. But he’s going to make this difficult. Of course he is.

“Oh no, no, no,” I protest quickly, my heart rate spiking. “That’s not going to work for me. We can’t—”

“Together or nothing, Ziggy,” he says firmly.

He stares me down.

I stare right back.

Until his unrelenting golden brown gaze makes me squirm.

I fold my arms across my chest. My eyes narrow. My nostrils flare. “Fine,” I say through gritted teeth.

The corners of Darius’s mouth curl upward. I stand here, waiting for him to start rubbing his hands together like the supervillain he is. “Good,” he says victoriously before glancing at our surroundings. “And you’re right. I do need help around here. But are you even qualified to work as an executive assistant?”

I huff, feeling confrontational. “Of course I am. It can’t be that hard. I’ve already brought your sad plant back to life. And I’ve organized the desk. And the place already smells a little less like stale ass.”

He rolls his eyes. “You’re gonna need to work on your decorum. ”

I jut a hip out, adding to my defensive body language. “My decorum’s just fine. Thank you very much.”

“Besides, don’t you have a witch shop to run?” he challenges me.

“It’s not a ‘witch shop,’” I say, trying to tamp down my annoyance. “It’s a metaphysical emporium .”

“A metaphysical what?”

“And I can run my shop and work as your assistant. Lots of people have two—or even three—jobs. Why can’t I?”

“But you don’t even live in Starlight Falls,” he continues to argue.

I wave him off. “I’m not worried. It’s a short commute.”

“Forty-five minutes is hardly a short commute.”

“I can handle it, Darius.” I barely keep from stomping my foot. I don't know why he’s being such a baby over forty-five measly minutes. “Besides, I can work remotely a few days per week and the rest of the time, I can make the short drive here. No biggie.”

Darius presses his lips into a thin line, obviously not happy with my logic. “It would be preferable that you relocate to Starlight Falls to carry out this assignment.”

“No need to worry about relocation. My living accommodations are…mobile.” I purse my lips to keep from grinning.

His gaze swings over to the window, staring wide-eyed at my converted school bus. Then he grabs his forehead, like he’s just been hit with a killer migraine.

“Oh, hell. Never mind.” He changes the subject. “I need someone who can commit to me full time.”

“Well, right now, you have no one,” I say, standing my ground. “Part-time is better than nothing.”

Darius exhales audibly. “Okay. Fine. But I need to make sure you’re even qualified.” I follow him over to the desk as he wakes up the computer. “Have you used this calendar system before?”

I lean in, squinting at the screen. “Nope, but I can learn.”

“What was your degree in?”

“Why do I need a degree for a volunteer position?” I counter.

He drops his head, and for a few long moments, he just breathes. In and out. In and out.

I’m just as frustrated as he is. This negotiation is exhausting.

Then he speaks again. “Are you organized?”

I cringe.

“Well, how fast can you type?”

I frown, holding my hands out in the air over an imaginary keyboard. Then I shut my eyes and mime typing out my name. “About this fast?”

“Oh god,” he groans. “Well, have you at least reported to a CEO or a manager before?”

I shrug. “I have jerkward customers to deal with all the time, so I think we’re good there.”

Let’s face it. This interview is going worse by the minute.

I cut to the chase. “Look—do I have the job? Am I qualified?”

I am so not qualified. His face says that much.

But I can’t tell if he’s trying not to laugh at me, or if he’s trying not to cry.

“If this were a real interview, I have to say I wouldn’t hire you,” he says, turning away from me for a moment and mumbling to himself. I can barely make out his next words, but it sounds like, “But you’re quirky and you’re cute and only god knows why I’m giving in to this insanity.”

My ears must be playing tricks on me, though. Because there’s no way that’s what he said. The ‘quirky and cute’ part, I mean.

Suddenly, he whips back around.

“Look—I just need someone to keep me organized and to take things off my plate so I can focus on what I need to get done. But I have some conditions.”

I refrain from jumping up and down. “Okay, name them.”

“For starters, I’ll take care of any legal bills related to the waterfall lawsuit. And all decisions will pass through me.”

I nod. “I can’t really argue with that.”

“You’ll need to sign an NDA before you can start and you’ll get paid bi-weekly. You’re going to work in person, here with me in the office from Monday to Thursday. You can work remotely on Fridays, and you must remain on call over the weekend, in case I have anything urgent that comes up.”

“The weekend? I agreed to work part time, not every minute of—”

“I’m not budging, Ziggy.”

Grr!

I’m ready to protest, but when he announces the salary he’s going to pay me, I fall mute. A salary?! When I already owe him money?! We both know I’m clearly getting the better end of this deal.

“Okay…” I say, somewhat reluctantly. “So, besides organizing your calendar and watering this plant, what will I be doing all day?”

“A little of everything. Scheduling meetings, managing my inbox, screening calls, coordinating travel arrangements, picking up my dry cleaning. Whatever I need you to handle at any given time. Two days are rarely the same. ”

My nose scrunches. “Well that seems purposely vague,” I grumble.

Darius glances up at the ugly ceiling tiles. “Why am I even going along with this?” he mutters.

I bat my eyelashes and smirk. “Because I’m charming and persuasive?”

His gaze falls to my smirking lips. It lingers.

Then his eyes return to mine with a wary look. “Oh, and one more important rule.”

“What’s that?” I ask eagerly.

“Don’t go working any witchcraft on me,” he says, his eyebrows furrowed deeply.

“Huh?”

“Stop playing innocent,” he bites, sounding mega defensive. “You know what I mean. I don’t want you putting any spells on me.”

I scrunch up my nose at him. “Why the heck would I put a spell on you?”

Darius just shrugs. “To make me fall in love with you or something.”

I cackle uproariously. “Uh. No offense, Money Man, but I can’t even stand you. Why the hell would I want you in love with me?!”

“Never mind,” he growls, looking nervous and unsure of himself as he rearranges the pens in the penholder on the desk.

“Okay. Whatever. So, do we have a deal?”

He gives one quick nod. “Deal.”

I reach out my hand, and he hesitates. I roll my eyes again. Reluctantly, he slides his palm against mine.

We shake hands to seal our deal. And I swear, something ignites between us .

His skin sizzles against mine. The firestorm of this simple contact takes me by surprise.

I don’t know what the heck that means. But it’s too late to turn back now.

I guess this is what it’s like to make a deal with the devil.