A Queen Among Snakes: Chapter Twenty-Five - Chris

The downside of dealing with human contractors is I can’t punch them in the face when they act like condescending assholes. I have been on the phone to these morons for longer than I’d like, and they think because we’re a little ‘village’ in the middle of nowhere that we’re hicks or something.

As the person in charge of pack finances, let me just say we are a very lucrative pack, and we could buy and sell their stupid company ten times over if we wanted to.

I plan to talk to Amelia about these guys so she can maybe consider hiring a different crew because I know for a fact she would not want to be associated with people who have this kind of attitude with their clients. It’s just bad business. But if they want to risk a hell of a payday, that’s on them.

“I’m heading up to your office, so you better let me in,” comes my sister’s usual bossy voice through the link. It’s always the short people who are the bossiest. Maybe it’s a complex.

I get up from my desk and open the door to my office just as Evalyn breezes in. “By all means, come right on in,” I greet sarcastically.

She snorts, “Dude, I practically grew up in this office, just like you. Speaking of, don’t you think it’s time to redecorate?” She asks as she looks around.

“I like the way dad had this office. Why mess with a good thing?” I shrug.

I love that the office isn’t flashy or over the top. It’s simple, practical and at the same time cosy. The office is covered completely with warm-coloured reddish wood, from the pattern-clad floor, the walls, the bookshelves and even the vaulted ceiling and built-in shelves line every wall.

Stepping in there is a medium-sized window opposite the door. To the right, three singular glass panels make up the window in a semi-octagon shape with my desk and chair nestled right in front. A simple black and white rug lays in front of my desk, with a guest chair placed on top. There is a small, chocolate-brown velvet sofa under the bookshelves and there is a decent sized television directly facing my desk. Just because I enjoy my work doesn’t mean I don’t get bored.

“But don’t you want to make it your own?” Evalyn asks while flopping down onto the sofa and flipping her long brown hair over her shoulder. Sometimes I think she’s trying to see if she can make it touch the floor.

“It is my own. It’s my office, not my suite. This is for business not relaxation. I have a picture of me and Mei on my desk, what more could I need?” I ask as I cross my arms, standing in front of her.

“Well, if this was my office- ”

“But it’s not, so drop it. We’re supposed to be going over packhouse expenditure, not bickering about your opinion on my office décor,” I say, rolling my eyes.

“Geesh, someone’s in a mood today. What’s with you?” She asks, raising her perfectly shaped eyebrow.

I sigh and rub my hands over my face and sit down beside her, “I’m sorry, Boots.” I say sincerely. She smiles hearing my nickname for her.

I’ve called her ‘boots’ since she was three years old because mum got her this pair of rainbow glitter boots for her third birthday, and she didn’t take them off for a full week. They eventually convinced her to take them off for baths, but she would still want to wear them to bed. It was really annoying, but looking back, it was kinda cute.

“My morning started off really great, but then there was what happened at breakfast and then these asshole contractors I had to deal with. I’m just a little stressed, I didn’t mean to take it out on you,” I say apologetically, squeezing her knee.

“It’s okay, you didn’t hurt my feelings,” she says as she holds onto my arm and rests her head on my shoulder. “I’m sorry you’re so stressed. Want one of my scalp massages?” She asks brightly.

“That does sound nice actually,” I smile at her.

“Then go sit in your chair and I’ll put my magic fingers to work,” she grins.

I follow her instructions, get up, sit back in my chair behind my desk and take my hair down. Evalyn comes over and glides her dainty fingers into my hair and starts massaging my scalp with the perfect amount of pressure. I groan as my body starts to relax.

“This helping?”

“Like magic. Thank you,” I say appreciatively. “We still need to do work,” I remind her.

“I can multitask. So, onto business, the pack staff would like an increase in the packhouse budget. Seems a lot of the household items they use have gone up in price and they’re going to have to do extra shopping in the next couple of weeks because there are a lot of birthdays happening and a lot of those are going to be hosted at the packhouse.”

“That all makes sense. I can increase the shopping budget, no problem, it’s not going to break the bank,” I say as I open the spreadsheet on my computer.

“There is one little problem though,” she says, her voice becoming high-pitched.

“Whenever you call a problem ‘little’ it’s never actually little,” I say warily.

“I hate how well you know me. Okay, so you know how the packhouse staff have their own credit card for expenditures?”

“Yes…” I say hesitantly.

“Right, so someone borrowed it and that someone lost it and now Maggie is on a war path. So you’re going to have to cancel the card and have the bank issue a new one,” she says brightly, kissing my cheek.

I close my eyes and take a few deep breaths. That card has thousands of dollars on it, a packhouse is not cheap to run. I can’t believe someone just lost it.

“Who was the person who lost it?”

“I have promised to keep this person’s identity a secret,” she says confidently.

“That’s not something you can promise, Eva. Dammit, I know you want everyone to like you, but this is actually serious. What if they didn’t actually lose it? What if it turns out they stole it?”

“I’m positive he didn’t,” she says adamantly.

“Well, now I know the person is male, so that narrows it down.”

“Crap,” she says under her breath. “Come on, it was just an accident,” she tries to reason.

“Maybe so, but I still have to look into it, so tell me who it was. Please don’t make me assert my authority over you,” I say reluctantly.

“You wouldn’t dare,” she gasps. “Besides, I’m a Gamma now,” she says haughtily.

“In name only, you don’t have a Gamma Spirit like Tyson, so I can assert my authority over you, and I’d really rather not do that to my baby sister, so please just tell me the name. I don’t need more stress today.” I try to reason with her. Her massage is no longer relaxing me.

She scowls at me then huffs, “Fine. It was Ethan Apted, happy now?”

“Elated. Thank you,” I say flatly.