Page 8 of Frostbite, Lovebite

Of course it was.

"Qualifications?" Benny asked.

"All of that can be discussed later, when there isn't a crisis," Wright said.

Benny folded his arms across his chest. "Fine, but the paperwork can't. I want it now, all of it. Termination papers. Employment papers. I'm not budging from this room until I have them to sign, every last page, and suitable witnesses to sign as well."

Wright glanced at the cops who'd brought them.

"They'll suffice," Benny said in such a magnanimous manner that it was clear Wright very nearly punched him for a second. "Bring me Match's contract as well, I want to make certain we're in compliance with the termination penalties and such."

Wright scowled. "Termination penalties?"

Benny ignored him, fixing himself a cup of coffee before taking a seat in the chair that was clearly intended for Wright on most days. Just minutes later Wright's admin came bustling in. Jeanette, ruthlessly efficient at her job, and from the barest look she cast Wright, she wasn't happy with him. Good.

Feeling small and tired, Match fixed himself a cup of coffee and sat close to Benny.

Benny flipped quickly through his contract, making a few notes on a pad of paper Jeanette had of course brought him along with everything else. Then he moved on to the termination paper, signing briskly before sliding them across the table to Wright. "Sign, and we'll be that much closer to sending Match on his way and getting your witch hired."

"What termination penalties?"

"You should have read Match's contract before you did all this," Benny said, smile all sharp, polite malice. "Sign, or backdown entirely and undo all the bullshit trouble you've caused to fire him."

Wright bristled. "I haven't done anything."

"Then sign."

Wright huffed but signed, and slid the papers back across the table for the two witnesses to sign.

"Great," Benny said when that was done. "As you fired him with little explanation and no evidence, without the proper warnings, write-ups, and coaching sessions to give him a chance to improve at his job, he's entitled to a severance pay of three times his annual pay. Cut the check and we'll be allowed to hire the new witch."

Match choked on his coffee. Because it had never occurred to him that he would be fired,because he was one of the best witches in the state and good at his job, he'd forgotten entirely about that clause and just how much it demanded.

"I had cause!" Wright protested, but his outrage was feeble. Because he knew damn good and well that he had no choice but to pay it. His only other option was to rescind the termination, which he couldn't do all that easily with the papers signed and witnessed. He could try to contest it on the grounds he had good reason to fire Match, but that would take weeks, if not months, of arbitration and even litigation.

Snarling in anger, clearly thinking harder than ever about the idea of hitting someone, even though this entire situation was his fault and his fault only, Wright bellowed, "Jeanette!"

The door opened again, and she stepped inside, dark red heels clicking on tile before she crossed over to carpet. "I'm not deaf. Here's the check." She left again, not having looked at Wright once.

Benny looked it over, smirked, and handed it over to Match. "Already signed and everything. At least someone inthis office knows what they're doing. Match, go home. Yours, Ronan's, mine, whatever."

Fingers shaking slightly, Match took the check and stowed it inside an inner pocket of his jacket. He stood, meeting Ronan's gaze briefly, not remotely certain what he was trying to communicate, and then left, walking with a calm he didn't feel.

Out on the street, he went straight to the bank because no way was he walking around with such a ridiculous fucking check just sitting around in his pocket.

Of course that kind of money had to be verified and shit, so he was stuck in the bank for nearly an hour. When he was finally free, he went to check on his wards first, because he might no longer have a job but he wasn't going to abandon his duties either. Not when Benny had probably taken great pleasure in explaining to Wright that no, all of Match's wards could not simply be taken over by Luna. Nor could they call him back and have him transfer them.

For one, it wasn't that simple. Wards weren't keys and passcodes and shit that could be handed off at the end of a shift. For two, that was phenomenally stupid. Even if he could hand the wards over, he couldn't sign them away, he'd always have access. They were made with his magic, his blood. He'd always be connected to them. Universal access.Stupid. If Wright, who'd always been kind of annoying and slimy but had never seemedthisodious, had done things properly then the process would have taken around a year. It had taken a little over nine months for his mother to transition everything to him before she fully retired. Even then, he'd needed her help off and on for another few months before she'd felt comfortable moving away to enjoy retirement where people couldn't try to make her work anyway, or constantly compare the two of them.

He ached to call her right then, but this wasn't her problem, and the moment she heard about it she'd come flying in with fire spells ready. She deserved to enjoy her retirement.

Anyway, Benny was probably having the time of his life making Wright miserable. How could Match possibly take that from him?

Not certain what else to do, still reeling from the stupid amount of money he now had to his name, he went to Ronan's house. At least there he could warm up, get some coffee, and start sorting out how to move all his shit to storage until he could find a new apartment.

Though… hmm…

When he finally reached their house, he didn't even get a chance to knock on the door before it flew open and Phil all but yanked him inside. "Ronan called. My goodness, you've had quite the past couple of days. Come, come, Rick already has the water heating."

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