Page 2 of What the Hex

“King?”

He jerked upright and squared his shoulders at the summons. It might have been his imagination, but he thought he detected a gleam in Skye’s blue eyes when he met her gaze.

“You and Arlo are assigned to Mr. Black and Mr. Frost. You’ll fetch drinks and food, keep track of their schedules, and really, anything else they need.”

“Like a personal assistant?” With a quiet gasp, Arlo Eichen grabbed hold of King’s wrist in a bruising grip as he waited for an answer.

Average height with a lean build, flawless tawny skin, and bright golden-brown eyes, the guy looked like he should be in front of the camera, not behind it. The fact that he had more charisma in his pinky than King did in his entire body didn’t hurt, either.

They had started at the Manor around the same time, but Arlo had quickly become a guest favorite with plenty of admirers of his own. King, on the other hand, doubted most of the staff knew who he was, despite working with him for nearly a year.

Not that he cared. He certainly wasn’t jealous. That would be ridiculous.

Skye lifted one shoulder in a casual shrug. “Something like that.”

“Oh, sweet baby cherubs,” Arlo whispered loudly as he shook King’s arm. “I think I’m going to pass out. This is unreal.”

While he definitely shared his friend’s excitement, his came with a healthy dose of skepticism. “Don’t they already have assistants? Or managers?”

At the very least, he imagined someone from the concierge team would be better suited to take on the task. Naturally, he was honored to have been chosen, but he couldn’t help but think there were better options available.

“Maybe you—” He grunted when Arlo chose that moment to stomp on his foot, effectively cutting off his protest.

A knowing grin stretched across Skye’s pink lips while she studied him for an uncomfortably long time. “If you don’t want—”

“I want!” he interrupted, literally shouting the words at her. “I’ll do it.” He cursed under his breath and winced when he caught an elbow in the ribs from Arlo. “Both of us,” he emphasized as he rubbed his abused side. “We’ll do it.”

“And I’m sure you’ll do a wonderful job.”

When she moved on to talk about other preparations, Arlo leaned sideways, bumping their shoulders together.

“Is it just me, or did that sound like a threat?”

“It’s not you.” He had clearly detected the uncurrent of or else in her statement. “Don’t stress about it. I’m sure it will be fine.”

Skye might be tough, but she was also fair. He had never known her to fire anyone for an accident or mistake. In fact, he would venture that someone would have to be downright negligent or malicious to get sacked from the hotel. Even if he and Arlo screwed up royally, as long as they tried their best, they would be okay.

Probably.

“I think that covers everything,” Skye said, concluding the meeting. “Everyone back to work. Our guests should be arriving soon.”

As she spoke, her gaze landed on King, and he instinctively knew he hadn’t been dismissed with everyone else. Sure enough, a moment later, she asked him and Arlo to follow her to the welcome desks at the front of the lobby. There, she grabbed two sheets of paper and glanced briefly at them.

“Mr. Frost’s schedule.” She passed one of the pages to Arlo. “And Mr. Black’s.” She handed the second sheet to King. “You’ll also find a list of preferences at the bottom.”

Perusing the information, his eyes widened at the sheer scope of Storm Black’s schedule. Between meetings, filming, and all of his extracurriculars, every minute of the day seemed to be filled. The guy even had time allotted for his meals.

By the gods, did he even sleep?

The bottom third of the page was dedicated to his preferences. How he took his coffee. What brand of water he liked. His favorite foods—listed by category. Items he requested be on set with him, like a humidifier and aroma therapy inhalers. Apparently, the actor was allergic to peanuts, which was uncommon for an Otherling, but not completely unheard of.

“Impressive.” Folding the sheet twice, he tucked the small square into the back pocket of his slacks. “Thank you. This will be really helpful.”

“Yes,” Arlo agreed, still looking over his own list. “Thank you.”

Without a word, Skye reached over the counter and came back with two old-fashioned brass keys.

Confused but unable to refuse, King took one of the keys with an arched eyebrow.

---