Terra
There were no buttons inside except for emergency controls and the penthouse access panel. Apparently once the proper code was entered, there was only one place the elevator could go.
Up. And up. And up.
When the doors finally opened, she expected to step into another hallway. Instead, she stepped directly into what looked like a private foyer.
The floor here was black marble veined with gold and a massive abstract sculpture stood against one wall beneath recessed lighting. Tall windows at the far end showed the city of Tampa spread out below, the buildings suddenly looking much smaller from this height.
Terra stood perfectly still.
“Oh my God,” she breathed.
If the lobby had been luxurious, the penthouse level was obscene and there appeared to be only one residence.
A pair of enormous dark wooden doors stood opposite the elevator, each nearly twice the normal width. Terra supposed they had to be wide to accommodate Taurex's horns.
Well, she couldn’t just stand here staring all day. Taking a deep breath, she crossed the foyer and pressed the doorbell.
For several seconds, nothing happened. Then she heard something crash inside. A low curse followed and more crashing. What in the world was going on in there?
Terra raised her eyebrows as more noises came from beyond the door—a scrape, another muttered curse and something that sounded suspiciously like papers falling onto the floor.
Finally, one of the massive doors swung open.
Terra looked up…but suddenly she had forgotten what she had been about to say.
Taurex filled the doorway.
Somehow, she had somehow forgotten how enormous he was.
At The Doll House, the dim lighting and cramped VIP booth had made it difficult to fully appreciate his size.
Here, in the bright morning light, he looked even bigger than she remembered.
His broad shoulders nearly filled the doorway, and his long horns extended several feet to either side of his head, forcing him to angle himself slightly, even though the entrance had clearly been designed for oversized residents.
He was dressed exactly as a businessman ought to be dressed, though on the big Monstrum, the effect was considerably more distracting than any business outfit had a right to be.
He wore dark tailored trousers, and a crisp white button-down shirt stretched over his enormous chest and shoulders. The top two buttons were undone, and the sleeves had been rolled up to his elbows, exposing thick, heavily muscled forearms dusted with short dark hair.
Terra's mouth went dry, and her knees suddenly felt weak.
Oh, Lord, that shirt should not have been that sexy. It was a shirt–just a shirt and men wore shirts every day.
But most men weren't built like Taurex.
Then she wondered if he could see what she was thinking. She hoped not–it certainly wasn’t anything a new office manager ought to be thinking about her boss.
“Terra,” he rumbled. “You came.”
“I said I would,” she said, trying to keep things light.
“Yes. Of course.” He stepped back quickly. “Please, come in.”
“Thank you.” Terra nodded and entered.
Taurex shut the door behind her, then ran one enormous hand distractedly over the base of one horn.
“I, er, have been attempting to organize some things before you arrived,” he told her.
Thinking of all the noises and cursing she’d heard before he opened the door, Terra raised her eyebrows.
“Have you?”
“Yes.” He nodded. But his expression suggested the attempt had not gone particularly well.
Terra glanced past him and saw a sheet of paper lying on the floor. Then another…and another. A trail of them disappeared around the corner.
She looked back at him.
“Paperwork problems?”
Taurex cleared his throat.
“Earth bureaucracy is confusing,” he admitted. “I have done business on many worlds, but your planet has them all beat when it comes to legal intricacies.”
Terra bit the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling at the big Monstrum’s obvious confusion.
“I can probably help with that.”
He looked genuinely relieved.
“I am hoping so.”
His expression made her feel better. She’s spent the whole drive downtown wondering if there really was a job waiting for her or if Taurex had just lured her here to dance for him again.
But judging by the paper trail alone, there was definitely work to do.
Taurex led her deeper into the penthouse and Terra immediately forgot about the papers because she was too busy looking around.
The apartment was enormous.
The main living space alone was larger than her mother's entire bungalow in Seminole Heights.
One wall was made completely of windows, offering a panoramic view of downtown Tampa.
The furniture was modern and expensive-looking—deep leather sofas, low stone tables, sleek chairs—but there wasn't much of it.
Everything was arranged perfectly, almost like a furniture showroom.
There were no family photographs, no framed pictures or knickknacks. No throw blankets tossed over the sofa or magazines lying around. Nothing personal at all.
Apparently her new boss was a minimalist.
Well, that was fine with Terra. She lived in the daily clutter of a house filled with two school-aged kids. No matter how often she picked up, there was always somebody’s shoes or books or toys laying around. It was nice to be someplace neat and tidy for a change.
The kitchen, when they came to it, was equally impressive, with dark cabinets, pale stone countertops and appliances that looked as though they belonged in a restaurant. There was an enormous refrigerator that Terra suspected cost more than her car and a dining table large enough for twelve people.
But again, everything looked unused. The penthouse was beautiful but strangely empty.
“You live here alone?” Terra asked before she could stop herself.
He nodded.
“Yes.”
“All the time? I mean, you don’t have a wife or a girlfriend or…”
She trailed off, blushing. She didn’t need to know those things about him to work for him!
“Sorry,” she muttered. “I didn’t mean to be nosey. That’s none of my business.”
Taurex shook his head.
“No, please–I don’t mind. And to answer your questions, I have no mate. There are no more females of my kind for me to mate with,” he answered.
“Oh, that’s sad,” Terra said, really meaning it. The poor guy must be lonely.
He shrugged, his broad shoulders tensing the fabric of his expensive linen shirt.
“It is the way it is for all the Monstrum. We lost our females when we lost our universe to the darklings.”
“Oh, of course.” Terra nodded. “I was just wondering why your, er, apartment seems so empty. It doesn’t look every, uh, lived in at all.”
“Probably because I prefer to stay aboard the Monstrum Mother Ship,” Taurex told her. “I only rented this residence because it is convenient for my Earth business. I stay here only one or two nights a week.”
So that explained it–the penthouse wasn’t his real home, it was just a place to sleep between meetings.
“Wow, so you rented one of the most expensive penthouses in the city just to do business once in a while?” Terra nodded at the vast marble fireplace that looked like it had never even had one fire in it and the luxury furniture that didn’t even look like anyone had sat in it.
He shrugged again.
“It was one of the few domiciles I saw that seemed big enough for me.”
“Oh, well that makes sense.” She nodded. “You are a, uh, really big guy.”
“As most Monstrum are,” he said, nodding back. “Come–let me show you my office.” As he spoke, he led her down a wide hallway toward a set of open double doors. “I have been using this suite as my place of business while I am on Earth.”
Terra stepped through the double doors and stopped, her mouth hanging open.
“Oh,” she breathed. That was all she could manage.
The office consisted of three connected rooms, and every available horizontal surface seemed to be covered in paper.
Stacks covered the enormous desk. More sat on a conference table and there were boxes on the floor. Folders were piled on two chairs and several stacks leaned precariously against a wall. One had apparently collapsed recently, which explained the trail of papers Terra had seen near the front door.
There were also several large computer screens mounted on the wall, each displaying different charts, shipping manifests, planetary maps and strings of numbers.
The contrast was bizarre–high-tech intergalactic commerce surrounded by enough paper to run a small government agency.
Terra slowly put her purse down on a nearby stack of paper.
“What happened in here?”
Taurex looked slightly sheepish–a strange expression on such a huge male.
“Nothing happened,” he protested. “This is how I keep my records.”
“What? All over the place?” she asked, looking around. “Never mind,” she added, when he started to talk again. “I can see you need some help–let’s see what we can do.”
She walked to the desk and picked up the first sheet she saw. It was an invoice to Cameron Corp. LLC for three cases of diamond-tipped drills from Berkeron Six and the amount made her eyes go wide. Looking at the date, Terra saw it was three months old. She held it up to Taurex.
“Did your customer pay this yet?”
Taurex came closer. He leaned over her shoulder, and Terra suddenly became acutely aware of his size and the heat radiating from his big, muscular body. Not to mention his scent–God, why did he smell so good?
She took one subtle step sideways, trying to get upwind of that maddening leather and male musk scent.
Taurex either didn't notice or politely pretended not to. He studied the invoice for a long moment.
“I believe so,” he said at last.
“You believe so?” Terra raised her eyebrows. “They owe you over three million dollars. You need to know for sure if they paid or not.”
“Yes,” I’m aware of that.” He shifted from foot to foot, looking uncomfortable.
Terra frowned up at him.
“Where are your receivables?”
The big Monstrum looked confused.
“My what?”
“Accounts receivable,” Terra said patiently. “The money customers owe you.”
He lifted his hands, palm up.