Marked Soul (mxm)

Chapter Two - TYR

I looked up at the knock at the door and scowled. Was there really anything else that could go wrong this morning? If it was anything less than an emergency, I'd be giving more than just a formal warning to whoever the little shit was. The name on the door was Tyr Prince not Problem Dumping Ground.

Dad stood and waited for me to get my face in order before he opened the door. On the other side there was a brown-haired man in baseball cap and t-shirt with his gaze on the floor behind my assistant. "Sorry to interrupt, sirs, but Cassie thought you might be hungry and would need something to eat," Joce said. "So you don't pass out before the meeting."

That had only happened once, I'd been sleep deprived, and I hadn't passed out - I'd just taken a nap. And she fucking knew it.

"Mighty considerate of her," Dad said before I could tear into Joce.

It was a distraction, and I knew it, but since there was some stranger in the room it was probably better for the company image if I didn't sound like an asshole. I forced myself to relax, lean back, and smile. "See?" I told Dad, and it came out snarky even though I was trying for pleasant. "Controlled panic. Cassie needs a raise."

"She's your PR manager; it's her job to control panic," Dad countered. "What did she send?"

Sometimes I swear that man thinks with his stomach. He's almost like a bloodhound going for food. The delivery boy - and wasn't he a shy thing? - moved forward and handed over two bags stamped with the logo of the bakery across the street. One was plastic, and I could see the outline of bottles weighing it down. Drinks, then. The other was paper and had a delightful scent. Redbird's was delicious for what it was. Nothing fancy, but still satisfying.

When he moved away from Dad his gaze lifted to take in the office. I only caught his eyes for a moment - a lovely blue - before they darted away and a blush crossed his face. He was older for a delivery boy, though it wasn't exactly a job that took a lot of brains. Anyone could do it. Except Redbird's didn't have a delivery service. Cassie must have pulled some strings, or asked a friend to make the delivery. That would explain why he seemed so awkward about it.

"Well?" Dad asked, waiting for an answer to his question. "It smells good, but what is it?"

The man threw a desperate look at Joce and held up his hands, and some sort of lightbulb went off in her head. "Oh! Sorry, I blanked for a moment. Should be sandwiches and pie. This poor fellow hurt his throat and can't speak right now."

He'd winced when Joce jerked her thumb at him, which was an odd reaction for a big guy like him. Guess he was a big believer in First Words and didn't like being reminded he couldn't speak. Being in an office full of new people wouldn't help the situation. I almost opened my mouth to say something and then bit my tongue to hold in the words. It would be incredibly unfair of me to speak to someone who couldn't say anything back. I could be respectful.

Dad grinned at the mention of pie while I clicked the mouse and brought up my email, pretending to be busy. "Pie. Wonderful. I'll have the pie and Tyr can have the sandwiches," Dad said.

Because that was a great plan. Fuck. I'd have to sneak the second piece away from him while he was distracted with the first and hope he went for the sandwich while he was still hungry. And pray he didn't smell the second slice from whatever drawer I hid it in. "Thanks, Joce," I sighed, looking at her and carefully avoiding speaking directly to the blushing delivery man. "Can you make sure he gets a tip and our thanks, and finds his way where he needs to be?"

She gave me a funny look, probably wondering why I wasn't thanking him myself, but nodded and didn't question me in front of him. I wasn't sure if his look of relief was because he'd escaped another meeting where he couldn't properly exchange words, or because he'd just escaped period.