A Deal with the Bossy Devil by Kyra Parsi

10

I almost did it.I almost picked up a small cactus off Adrien’s desk and threw it at his stupid, arrogant face. My fingers twitched and my palms itched, and it didn’t help that the little cactus kept begging to be picked up.

Instead, I brought my focus back to my breath and allowed it to drift me off to my happy place. I was a monk, basically. My patience was unrivaled.

“You want me to wear a bell?” My voice was pleasant, smooth, curious.

“Yes.”

Pick me up, Ria, the cactus pleaded. I’ll hurt him so good if you hurl me at his idiot head.

Adrien nudged the box on his desk closer to me. It was a digital watch with nothing but a single app installed: a butler’s bell.

“It’ll ring whenever I need you,” Adrien explained as if I were too daft to put two and two together.

I’d be expected to drop everything and go to him whenever the stupid thing rang. And the best part? The app had a tracker running in the background, so it could (and would) inform both parties what my estimated travel time would be. Yay for me.

Look at all my pins and needles. I grew them all myself. Look how sharp they are. I’ll stick them all in his face if you throw me.

Adrien lizard-blinked at me, looking like he was already bored of having to explain everything. “Sometimes the notification will be accompanied by a message or a request, other times it’ll just provide you with my location.”

Aim for his eyeballs, Ria. My pins will stick to those real good. I’m so good at stabbing into things, you don’t even know. I am violence.

I cleared my throat. This was fine. Everything was fine. My whole brain was definitely not on screaming fire. “Will I be able to send messages back?” I asked, my tone calm and peachy.

Everything was fine.

“No.”

“Okay… will I be provided with a different method of getting in touch with you?”

“Why would you need to be able to get in touch with me?”

My eyes hurt from the effort it was taking not to roll them. “In case I have a question about a request, for example,” I explained reasonably.

“You shouldn’t. They’ll be specific.”

Good lord. “Fine. What if something happens and I’m not able to get to you right away?”

He clicked his tongue. “You’re supposed to be available to me at all times. That’s the deal.”

My hands were behind my back, so he couldn’t see them clench. “What if I get hit by a bus while running one of your errands? Shouldn’t I be able to let you know?”

Adrien waved a dismissive hand in the air. “I’ll see it on the news. Plus, the app will notify me of any substantial physical impact.”

I frowned. “It will? Why?”

“In case you try to smash it.”

Oh. Yeah. Fair enough. That was definitely something I’d do.

Adrien leaned back in his chair, fingers intertwining in front of him. “Wear it,” he ordered.

Last chance, Ria. Throw me at his freaky eyeballs.

It took every last ounce of willpower I had to swallow my pride and reach for the box. I slipped the watch on and tried my best to focus on the positives. Like, for example, at least the strap was subtle nude and not a gaudy neon orange. And at least it wasn’t a collar. (Though if it had been I really would have thrown the cactus.)

“Would you like a demo?” Adrien teased, dark eyes dancing with delighted mischief.

The absolute last fucking thing I wanted was a demo. “Yes, sure. That would be great—”

I jumped out of my skin with a startled gasp when the thing went off. The vibrations were so intense they felt like mini electric shocks. And holy fuck was it loud, and obnoxious.

It sounded like a cowbell was having wild sex with a car alarm.

The horrific experience lasted an entirely too long five seconds, and when it was finally over, Adrien was beaming from ear to ear. “Do you love it?” he asked.

My heart was a frantic mess. “Is there a way to, um… silence it?” So it doesn’t give me and everyone else in the room a fucking heart attack every time it goes off?

“No.”

The dread that followed was so rich and overpowering, I could taste it. But then he rasped a chuckle. “You can adjust it in the settings.”

Thank fuck. I released my breath.

Okay, so he did have a sense of humor. It was just a bit sadistic.

“Great,” I said, ignoring the headache blooming at the base of my left eye. I very much needed this day to be over now, and it was only 8 a.m. “Do you need anything else from me?”

Adrien shook his head. “Not now. I’ll ring you when I need something.”

Again, the pun hadn’t been intended.

* * *

The “not needing anything” lasted all of nine minutes. And then the requests started to come in.

It was a drizzle at first—grab him coffee, drop off his dry-cleaning, pick up a package. The types of mundane errands I’d been expecting. But then the vibrations started coming in faster. And faster and faster and faster. Until I couldn’t remember a time when I had full feeling in my wrist.

The experience might not have been as bad had my legs not been so stiff and sore from the run. Every time I had to squat or jog, or even walk at a slightly elevated pace, my muscles burned and ached in protest.

I was in so much stiff pain by the end of the day that I opted to take a cab back to the apartment. Even though it was barely a fifteen-minute walk.

“So… how was your day?” Jamie asked sarcastically when I sunk face-first into the couch with a groan.

“I’m so sore,” I whined into the cushion. Toebeans hopped onto my butt and started pawing at me.

“I bet. You want some tea?”

“Is ‘tea’ code for drugs?”

“No.”

“Can it be?”

“No.”

I sighed. “Fine.”

She was back a few minutes later with a steaming mug of mint tea, which she placed on the coffee table before sitting down beside me. “You got a watch?” she asked curiously, nudging at the camel strap.

As if on cue, the cursed thing went off again.

I whimpered a sob into the couch. “Make it stop.”

He’d told meI was dismissed for the day. He’d said it with his own stupid mouth.

I turned my head just enough to peek at the screen and almost cried from relief. It was just a message. No request.

Don’t forget to charge the watch. No run tomorrow.

Thank fuck.

I stuffed my face back into the cushion.

“That bad, huh?” Jamie said softly as she began running a hand through my hair.

I groaned into the couch, and as if he could feel my anguish, Toebeans started to knead my lower back.

He was such a sweet boy sometimes. Ten more minutes of the kneading and maybe I’d find it in me to forgive his slutiness.

“Your future husband is an evil sadist,” I informed her. “Every time he smiles, a pair of sleeping otters get separated. Have you seen the videos? They hold hands when they sleep. It’s super cute. And he separates them every time he smiles, Jamie.”

She hummed. “That’s too bad. Adrien’s got a really nice smile.”

“Does not,” I grumbled back. And on a completely unrelated note, “You know he claims my left nostril flares when I lie?”

She cocked her head as she started to study my nose. “It does?”

“You tell me. You’re the one who’s been looking at my face every day for ten years.”

“I’ve never picked up on it,” she admitted. “Then again, you never lie to me.”

“What are you talking about? I lie to you all the time.”

She pinched my arm.

“Ow!”

Toebeans stopped his kneading and decided to lie down on my head instead. Probably to shut me up.

But Jamie moved him to her lap before he could put me out of my misery via suffocation. I really couldn’t catch a fucking break today.

“Anyways,” I went on, “either he’s incredibly observant and that actually is something I do, or he’s bullshitting to try and throw me off and get into my head.”

Not that it was working if that’s what he was doing.

I was fine.

“Why don’t you tell me a lie, then, and I’ll let you know if your nostril flares.”

I clicked my tongue. “It might not work if I’m actively aware of it.”

She scooched closer. “Just try. I’ll ask you a question, and you give me an untruthful answer.”

It was worth a shot. I rolled to my side to give her more room. “Okay.”

“All right, let’s see… ummm.” She looked down at her lap, thinking. And then she grinned, mischievous gaze cutting to mine. “Adrien Cloutier is a total babe, yes or no?”

“That’s dumb. Pick another one.”

“Nope, sorry. Adrien is a sexy hunk of a man. Yes or no.”

“Literally nobody uses the word ‘hunk’ anymore.”

“Yes or no,” she pushed.

I rolled my eyes so hard I felt them hit the back of my head. “No,” I said firmly.

Jamie let out a scandalized gasp. “Liar!” she accused, pointing at my nose. “It flared!”

What? “No, it didn’t.” I’d specifically paid extra attention to the sensations, and I definitely hadn’t felt anything.

“Yes, it did. Look!” She whipped out her phone and flipped the camera so I could see myself on her screen. “Tell me Adrien has a gross face.”

“Adrien has a gross f— Oh, what the hell!”

Jamie cackled as I slapped a palm over my nose. The left nostril had, in fact, twitched and widened as soon as I was halfway through the sentence.

“What the actual fuck!” I panic-complained into my palm.

Jamie’s eyes were wide with excitement. “I can’t believe I’ve never noticed it. How the heck did he manage to pick up on it so quickly?”

I didn’t know—didn’t care. I scrambled to my feet and went straight for my laptop.

“What are you doing?” Jamie called out after me.

“Booking an emergency rhinoplasty consultation, obviously.”

I simply had no other options.