Chapter 2 Octavius #2
I straightened slowly, rolling one shoulder as I glanced back at her.
She leaned casually against the doorway, a stack of freshly folded towels balanced on one hip.
Her long hair, silver threaded with deep green, was braided loosely, tiny pearlescent beads woven through it that caught the candlelight each time she shifted.
Her skin carried that faint blue-green undertone common among sea serpent shifters, and there was always something subtly luminous about her, as if she had been shaped from moonlight and seawater and just a touch too much curiosity.
She had been working for me for three years now, the only employee I had ever taken on.
At the time, it had been less of a choice and more of a necessity.
My first year in Crescent Cove had been...
overwhelming. I had come here from Okinawa expecting solace and a slower life, just me and my spa where people could come to relax while I did the same and made a profit off the atmosphere.
Instead, word of what I could do spread quickly, and suddenly I was booked solid, day after day.
Appointments, requests, paperwork—all of it piling on top of the work I was already doing.
The irony wasn’t lost on me, being overwhelmed by stress while running a business designed to take it away from others.
It would have been funny if I actually had the energy to laugh at the end of a long day.
I wasn’t trying to hide my ability. I knew it was what made me the most money, but I had no idea how much people in Crescent Cove were carrying.
That was when Mina stepped in, just before I burned out completely.
She took over the calls, the scheduling, and the endless stream of requests that never seemed to slow.
She handled the clients, charmed them, and managed everything I had no interest in.
I kept things minimal—small talk when needed, and even then it was always about the task at hand.
Mina, however, talked to everyone, and unfortunately, that included me, too.
She had long since accepted that I preferred quiet, that I didn’t need conversation to fill every empty moment.
Silence, for me, was something to be respected, but unfortunately, Mina had never quite embraced that idea.
She treated it more like a suggestion, one she felt free to ignore whenever it suited her.
And judging by the look on her face now, this was going to be one of those times.
“I was,” I said flatly. “Then you came in.”
She smiled, entirely too pleased with herself, like my irritation was a personal victory. “Good. Then you still have enough energy left to pretend not to be rude,” she replied, shifting her weight against the doorframe. “Which means I can give you the news.”
“No,” I said dryly, my head already starting to throb.
“You don’t even know what the news is.”
“If you’re smiling like that, it’s definitely bad.”
“It’s not bad,” she insisted. “Maybe just a little... inconvenient.”
I turned fully toward her, reaching for the folded linen at the end of the table so I had something to do with my hands besides pressing my fingers into my temples. “We're closed.”
“We were closed.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Mina.”
“Octavius.”
I stared at her, and she stared right back, completely unbothered. It was a familiar ritual—one we had performed often enough that it had its own rhythm, and one she enjoyed far more than I ever did.
“It’s just one teeny tiny last minute appointment,” she said finally, setting the towels down on the bench as if that made her helpful.
“She came in asking if there was any chance you could take her tonight. I told her no, naturally, because I do, in fact, care about preserving what little remains of your personality. Also, it’s mine and Sandra’s six-month anniversary tonight, and she apparently has a surprise planned, which, as you know, is deeply concerning given her track record. ”
“Mina,” I cut in, my voice sharpening just enough to stop the inevitable spiral. “Get to the point.”
“Fine, fine,” she huffed, rolling her eyes. “Don't get your tentacles in a twist.”
“They are not—”
“I felt bad for her,” she continued over me, as if I hadn’t spoken at all. “Because when I said we were closed, she looked so sad and disappointed, like she might turn around and apologize for existing, and now I feel guilty turning her away, so I said I’d ask, and well, here we are.”
I folded the linen more aggressively than necessary, the crisp fabric snapping under my hands. “Your guilt isn’t my emergency,” I said dryly. “Unless you’re just trying to avoid whatever surprise monstrosity Sandra’s cooked up by staying here long enough for it to become inedible.”
“No,” Mina said a little too quickly. “Okay, well... maybe a little. You know how bad her cooking is,” she admitted, entirely unashamed. “But that’s not the point. The client who came in, she’s new in town, and I’d hate for her to feel unwelcome.”
I knew my secretary too well to miss what she wasn’t saying.
Mina had a soft spot for people, especially anyone who looked like they didn’t quite belong yet.
But that didn’t mean she wasn’t also, very conveniently, avoiding whatever culinary disaster was waiting for her at home.
Still, none of that changed the fact that I was exhausted, and my body was already itching to be drained before it pushed me into something far less functional than I already felt.
If people thought I was an asshole now, they had no idea how much worse it could get if I held onto my clients’ emotions for too long.
I stepped past her into the corridor, already done with the conversation, my decision made. “Then she can make an appointment for tomorrow.”
“She looks like she really needs it tonight,” Mina said, falling into step behind me without hesitation. “Also, she’s pretty.”
I stopped walking and slowly turned my head to look at her, my expression flat. “I’m reducing your wages.” As if a pretty face was somehow going to outweigh my need to reset back to the calm, functional octopus shifter I usually was... well, most of the time at least.
“Oh, stop. Just at least meet her, and then you can be the one to tell her to reschedule.”
Mina knew me too well. She knew that, despite my generally sour mood, I didn’t have it in me to deny someone in need when they were standing right in front of me.
It was, in fact, one of the main reasons I’d hired her, so she could be the bad guy when I couldn’t bring myself to be.
Unfortunately, she had chosen not to exercise that particular skill tonight.
And as my patience wore thinner by the second, it became clear this conversation wasn’t ending unless I gave in.
“Fine,” I finally said as I turned and stalked toward the front.
The waiting area sat just beyond the reception desk, somehow looking even more cluttered with Mina’s décor than it had that morning, completely killing the calm I tried to maintain.
Still, the thing that stood out most was the woman sitting stiffly on the couch and I could only assume this was Crescent Cove’s newest resident.
I hadn’t heard much, but I knew enough to recognize a new face when I saw one.
She stood the moment she noticed me, a little too quickly, all nervous energy and unsteady movements, nearly tangling herself in her own coat as she pushed to her feet. And something in my chest gave a small, unexpected pull of interest before I could stop it.
Pretty felt like an oversimplification on Mina’s part, because she had a habit of exaggerating, but in this case, her words didn’t do the woman justice. She was gorgeous.
Wavy golden-brown hair framed her face, already slipping free from whatever attempt she had made to tame it, soft strands catching the light as they fell.
Her eyes were a pale, expressive green that echoed the emotions I could already sense from her, while freckles dusted across the bridge of her nose and cheeks, subtle but visible in the low glow.
Her coat hugged her frame just enough that I could make out the soft curves beneath it, along with the hint of what looked like a floral summer dress underneath.
She looked soft and gently curved in a way that felt real, not like the women who tried to mold themselves into society’s idea of perfection.
No, this woman was naturally, authentically herself.
At a glance, I might have thought she was grounded, confident even, but the moment I felt it, I knew that wasn’t what held her in place.
There was a literal emotional weight pressing down on her instead.
The emotions clung to her like over-packed luggage she didn’t know how to set down.
Anxiety, stress, and something deeper beneath it, tightly wound itself all around her.
I could sense all of it, and my tentacles hadn’t even touched her yet.
Whatever she had been through, it had built up inside her, and I found myself unexpectedly curious about this newcomer.
“Hi,” she said, then immediately winced, like she regretted the word the second it left her mouth.
“Hello. Sorry. Um. Mina said you might be able to fit me in, but I know it’s late, so if you can’t, I completely understand.
I can come back another time. Or not, since I’m sure your days are already booked, but tonight would be preferable if you can.
If not, I can make it another day, I suppose. ”
The words tumbled out in one breath, each one carrying the same anxious energy. I watched her close her eyes, as if even she didn’t like asking any more than I liked answering.
“I didn’t mean to make that sound so dramatic,” she added quickly. “I just mean... in a respectful-of-your-business-hours kind of way.”
Mina made a suspicious choking noise behind me that sounded very much like suppressed heartbreak for the newcomer. It might have sounded exaggerated, but I knew it was genuine.