Devil's Toy

Chapter 1

I tapped my foot nervously, the tip of my heel making a comforting 'click click click' sound. I mentally scolded myself for chewing on my lip. The familiar sting of raw skin meeting saliva every time I dragged my teeth across my bottom lip made me stop. But the nerves would soon take over and I would repeat the process. 

"Hey, Layla." John's voice made me jump, my eyes moving from my portfolio to his eyes. He had calming blue eyes - normal for mermen. His shoulder rested against the door frame, his tight muscles outlined under a way too-tight sage button-down shirt. 

"Hey." I smiled, trying to act normal.

He grinned and stepped into my office, shutting the door behind him. 

I closed my eyes and let my head fall back against my chair. The wheels squeaked as he sat down.

"Im definitely not okay."

"I know, sweet girl. Whats going on?" John and I had been working for the same PR Firms for years. I as a graphic designer and him as a PR Manager. He was one of the most skilled Crisis Managers. Never on purpose though. We just always ended up at the same firms. Either I'd show up for an interview just as he was walking out of one, or I'd be hired just to find he had been hired a few days before. We'd developed a close relationship.

"I'm worried about this merger, John." I pouted, my eyes still closed.

"Why?" He sounded as confused as you would be if someone tried having a conversation with you in a different language you'd never heard.

"What do you mean why? LMS PR? Who even are those people?" I opened my eyes to an amused John. 

"They're a PR company?" He raised a brow.

"But from where? They're not based out of Seattle, and I couldn't find them online."

"You couldn't find the firm or the CEO?"

"Nothing! Did you not look them up?"

"Nope. Why does that worry you so much? Why does it matter?" 

I was starting to get annoyed. Most likely his intention.

"Well what if they bring on their own graphic designer and Mariah gives me the boot? What if their graphic designer is like... the most majestic designer in all of Seattle - no - all of the world!"

John stifled a laugh, "You're overthinking, Layla. You are stupid talented. They're going to love you!"

"Yeah, whatever." I smoothed my pencil skirt and messed with my hair. I groaned at the stinging radiating from my bottom lip.

"The meeting is in 10, want to walk together? We can stop and grab a nerve soothing espresso?"

I matched his smile, "Lets go." 

Im fucked. 

I tucked my leather bound portfolio under my arm and followed him out of my office. He glanced at the clunky briefcase and chuckled.

"You know this isn't an interview right?" John shook his head as he held the door to the kitchen open for me. The kitchen was conveniently three feet from my office. It was a small space we worked hard to cozy up with terracotta sofas, and warm lighting. 

"Life is an interview, John." I set the folio down softly on the stained coffee table and walked over to John slipping the portafilter into place and setting a cute kitty mug under it. 

"You're ridiculous, love. Why would they even think to interview the staff they're merging with? Mariah already told us our jobs were secure before the merger finalized. She kept us in the loop every step of the way. She values us, and that other firm needs us. We're good."