Chapter 4
Aster
As I try and put the office into some semblance of order, I tell myself that I imagined the entire interaction with Hawthorne. Because the alternative? Not going there.
I found a box in the middle of the breakroom table with a sticky note on top that said ‘Open at your earliest convenience’, but when I tore into it, it was jerry-rigged with confetti and one of those fucking spring snakes that jump out at you, and then there was some sort of voice box that played a villainous laugh.
Prospects at the new job are looking great.
I probably didn’t have a real heart attack from that hot pile of garbage.
Underneath all the smoke and mirrors was a bunch of papers with clients that were currently seeking services with the real estate firm, which is reduced to only me.
The notes taken throughout the files are more than a little tricky to understand, and I never really stopped to consider how selling houses to a bunch of supes might be different than selling to regular-ass humans.
Turns out, they’re almost like different fields entirely.
Supes have very specific needs when they buy a home, quirks if you will, which makes both buying and selling these homes tricky.
If a wolf family wants to move out, for instance, they might have a basement full of custom dens that they’ve had built into the foundation, but then say a water witch wants to move in?
They need that space to have some sort of water feature instead.
And from what I’m gathering, everyone just expects to be entirely catered to.
There’s probably going to be a lot of negotiating, concessions that both parties want made, and I figure my best bet is just calling the clients one by one and making sure I have all of their files straight.
???
I'm beginning to understand why the previous lady was so excited to get out of here. After dealing with the very needy clients all afternoon, I've got a killer migraine and a very empty, very rumbly belly.
I have to admit; I didn't expect Hawthorne was serious earlier when he said they'd be picking me up at six. But look at that. It's 6 o'clock on the dot, and all three of them are knocking at my front door. With the sun setting behind them, it makes them look almost eerie, like they're glowing.
This far away, I allow myself the luxury of fully taking in their appearances. I'm behind the glass, so they won’t be able to hear how hard I'm suddenly breathing or feel the rise in my body temperature.
How many nights did I lie awake when I was younger, fantasizing about the three of them showing up and sweeping me off my feet?
They’ve always been such close friends until they weren’t, that it was easy to imagine dating them.
Of course I dreamed of dating all three of them, you can't separate them. They come as a set.
Somehow they have a key to my business, which we'll be discussing later. In depth. They walk in and the almost overpowering scent of honey follows them, making it impossible to forget what they are.
I don't think many people fantasize about getting freaky with insects, but that's only because most of them don't know it's actually an option.
“Can I help you guys?”
Dev walks up, face split so wide it must be causing him pain.
He's bulked up a lot since we were teenagers, and even though he's got a long-sleeved sweater on, I can see the tattoos peeking through where he's got it pushed up his forearms. Most of his fingers on his right hand are covered in big, silver rings dotted with chunky stones, and somehow, he makes suspenders look really hot.
I run my hands through my short hair, knowing the product I put in this morning is likely completely gone. I really don't feel pretty right now.
Dev leans right over my desk, absolutely ignoring my need for personal space. “You've made me the happiest man on earth.”
I replay my memories of the day, and realize I never actually figured out what the heck happened earlier with Hawthorne.
Neither Arbor nor Hawthorne seem to think that anything Dev is saying is crazy, though.
In fact, they're smiling right along with him, in a very encouraging manner. Why are they encouraging this delusion?
“I'm so sorry. I feel as if there's been some miscommunication between us. I can say with absolute confidence that I have no idea what you're talking about.”
“Why, the fact that you came back to town to be with us! It's the greatest day of my life!” Dev beams at me again.
I stand up, trying to strike my power pose. “You see, that's where my confusion lies. You know I moved to town for a fresh start, right? You guys said you needed help selling your house, and I'm happy to do so, but as far as I'm concerned, that is the extent of our relationship.”
I expect them to look hurt, dismayed, maybe even angry, but they all laugh like I said something hilarious. Now I feel dismayed. Did I use that term correctly?
Hawthorne rounds the desk, wagging his finger at me. “You're so funny. I forgot how funny you were. Did you guys forget how funny she was, too? Man. You ready to go get dinner, gorgeous?”
I don't really know what my face is doing as I allow them to tow me out of that office. I watch them with removed disinterest as they lock up with the same key they opened it with, Arbor tucking the key back into his pocket.
I'm lifted into the back of their truck, squeezed between Dev and Hawthorne. Arbor starts humming way too jauntily for my comfort as he drives, and the entire drive they're all laughing and joking with each other, and Dev definitely has an arm wrapped around my shoulder.
Did I somehow find myself in a poly relationship? On accident? I cannot stress enough how unintended this was. Totally did not just wink at you.
We walk into Nana’s Noodles, the only Italian restaurant we have here in Trash Haven.
It’s always good. It's so strange seeing people from my past, people that were adults when I was young, that now just look old.
I don't feel like an adult. Does that happen at a specific age?
Because I don't know if it's going to happen for me.
At least three separate people stop to congratulate us as we’re shown to our table, and each time they do, I can't help but look over my shoulder as we pass them and shoot them looks of confusion.
Dev keeps a hand firmly tucked against my lower back, having the audacity to even rub his thumb up and down as he does.
The whole meal goes by in a haze, and I'm too lost in the fairy tale of it all to question what they actually want with me.
I find myself nodding along to their conversations, smiling like a damn idiot, and not once do I bother asking them what exactly we're celebrating or why we're out on a date at all.
I think we are, but I refuse to ask because if I do and I don't get the answer I want, I might break down and start ugly crying right here in this restaurant.
That might ruin more than just my dinner.
For now, I figure it's harmless to play along.
They drive me home and walk me to the door, kissing me on the cheek one by one as they bid me goodnight, and it's not until I've walked inside my parents’ house and it's quiet and dark because everybody's already gone to bed, that everything sort of washes over me.