“I will, thank you.”
I put the receiver back, considered my next actions for approximately a minute, and then picked it back up, dialing Conrad’s cellular device.
“Does calling me from your landline get you off, Farr?” the little cretin said. “Are you asking me to come there now? It’s not even noon, and I had you against the window this morning.”
Indeed he had. I allowed myself a smile at the memory before saying, “Something is wrong with my secretary and his hive.”
“What do you mean?”
“Leopold, that sweet human whom you made me banish into his own office, called me just now and said his hive was sick. He said he couldn’t come in because he wants to take care of them.”
“Well, hives don’t really get sick as far as I know.”
“Indeed they don’t, hence my deduction that something is amiss.”
“You sure you’re not just being a nosy, stuck-up bitch who can’t let two horny people be?”
“No, I know how someone sounds when they are horny, and Leopold didn’t sound like that at all.”
“Right. Okay. An emergency of some sort then. Hold on.”
There was paper rustling in the background. Conrad was in his office, I should think, amidst his very disorganized files. Likely he was wearing nothing more than boxers, a habit he clung to with unseemly stubbornness even when it wasn’t the height of summer. I had yet to find a way to train the boxers out of him.
“Well?”
“Hold your horses. Here it is. The hive works at the Dazzle and at Wolf Lotus Yoga Studio, which is run by a werewolf. Not that the name isn’t on the nose. Do you want me to call them?”
“No, I will do that. Send me the telephone numbers presently.”
“Right, on it. Want me to go over to your secretary’s place, check around the house?”
“Hmm, not yet, but mayhap put on some trousers.”
“I’ll do board shorts, that’s about how fancy you’ll get.”
“You are representing this school and its rich history, Conrad. Do you think that board shorts are a garment appropriate for sharing the St. Auguste refinement with the world?”
“Don’t give a fuck. I’m not on your fucking payroll, sweetie, so you don’t get to enforce your dress code on me. You know you like it that way.”
He hung up on me. It was his lacking breeding that made him behave thusly, and being near me was the best panacea I could think to give him in order to cure him of his atrocious manners.
Two minutes later, I was on the phone once more.
“Hello, am I speaking to the owner?” I asked the soft voice that answered when I called the yoga studio, this time from my cellular phone because it was easier, seeing as how Conrad had sent me the contact information through there.
“Yes, that’s me. Why’re you asking?”
“Ah, delighted. This is Principal Farrow from St. Auguste.”
“Oh! Principal Farrow! I knew the voice was familiar. This is Xander from the Star-Garbed Wolves.”
“Xander, were you not a tiny ballerino just the other day?”
He chuckled. “That was a while ago, Principal Farrow. What can I do you for? Want to organize an extracurricular yoga class for the school?”
“Well, that’s not why I called, but it actually sounds like a good idea so long as everyone wears their approved school exercise attire. Anyways, you have a hive working for you, have you not?”
“Yeah.” His voice took on a concerned quality. “They’re not in today though.”