a personal email to the staff, who had been apprised early this morning that there was a fire and we were closed. But I wanted to have them hear from me personally that they would be taken care of until we can rebuild.
Carrick is being tremendously generous in covering everyone’s salaries. Before he left this morning, I asked him to add the cost of those salaries onto the original loan he’d given me, and I would pay it all back to him.
I was surprised he looked a bit offended, especially since he made it clear earlier that he was only helping to rebuild because it was a business investment.
“I’ve got more money than I know what to do with,” he said drolly as he refused my offer to pay him back for the salaries. “Don’t worry about it.”
Of course, I jokingly replied, “Why don’t you just waive the loan I owe you then?”
Carrick didn’t laugh, only gave me one of those looks that said he was in full business mode. “Oh, no, Miss Porter. You’re going to work to pay that back; otherwise, you won’t appreciate it.”
That didn’t bother me in the slightest. I wasn’t serious about my request, and I always believe in paying my debts. Not sure I liked him calling me Miss Porter as it seems like that’s his way to keep things professional with us since we had “the kiss”.
Regardless, it took me half a day to do all those things and put in a claim with the insurance company. They will have an adjuster come out to evaluate it but not until after the arson investigation is done.
I do wonder what they’ll find. It won’t be an electrical issue or a grease fire, nor will they find any accelerant. It will most likely look like spontaneous combustion, but I doubt that will go on the report. It certainly won’t say “fire due to Dark Fae fireballs”.
Most likely, it will be inconclusive and as long as the insurance processes quickly, we can start the rebuild. Carrick has assured me he can get crews working immediately because, as it turns out, his conglomerate includes a commercial construction division. He explained they normally do the high rises that seem to be going up all the time, but they’ll slum it for a little coffee shop.
He was teasing, of course.
About the slumming-it part.
“There you are,” I hear Titus call as he enters the gym. I release the stretch on my back and pull out of my lunge, turning to face him. He grins, giving a slow sweep of his gaze up and down. “Back from Faere, and you don’t look any worse for wear.”
I frown. “You mean I’m no worse for wear after Dark Fae Fallon tried to kill me today, don’t you?”
Titus’ eyes bug out. “Say what?”
“Carrick didn’t tell you?”
Titus shakes his head and walks my way, coming to stand with his arms crossed over his beefy chest and concern on his face. “I was in Detroit battling a nest of dark daemons that were on a murderous rampage.”
“Oh, well… a lot has happened. Want me to fill you in now or after training?”
“Now,” he demands.
And so I do the rundown, starting from the moment we stepped into Faere to my meeting with Arwen and all I learned—including Carrick is a demi-god, but excluding the sacrifice part as I didn’t want to overly worry him—and finishing off with this morning’s escapade of Fallon trying to kill me and burning One Bean to the ground, which would cause worry enough.
Titus whistles low. “Damn, girl… you’ve had quite the adventure.”
Not sure I would call it that, but I do have a curiosity. “Why didn’t you tell me that Carrick is a demi-god?”
He shrugs. “You never asked.”
“Yes,” I retort, screwing up my face in irritation. “I did ask. I asked when we were on top of the building that night sharpening my distance skills.”
“You asked if he was a fae,” Titus replies as he moves over toward the training cabinet. “I told you he wasn’t. You then asked if he was a daemon, and I told you he wasn’t, to which you asked how old I am, changing the subject, and you never asked me again.”
My eyebrows draw inward in consternation as I think back to that conversation, and I think he’s right. I huff with exasperation as I join him at the cabinet. “You could have just said what he is. You know that’s what I was aiming for.”
“It’s a