Riven strode through the middle aisle as a group of girls followed him.
Poor Grimm trailed after the crowd. “No loitering! It says so on the sign right there.” He pointed back at the sign, but no one seemed to notice, all their attention on the famous bard.
Riven locked eyes with me through the office window and strode through the door. He slammed it shut and plastered himself to it, looking visibly relieved to have a barrier between him and his rabid fans.
They crowded outside the office as I grabbed the curtain and yanked it over the window, making them all groan.
“Riven!” My father rushed forward and grabbed his hand, shaking it vigorously. “It’s been too long, my boy.”
Morty came to stand and opened her arms. “Hello, dear. Well, aren’t you looking as scrumptious as ever?” She pinched his cheeks, which turned pink.
“I’m sorry I ran out like that.” I gestured toward my father. “I was late coming to check on my father. Lost track of time, I guess.” I rubbed my arm.
“Yeah, I did too. It happens,” Riven said.
Actually, no it didn’t. Not to me.
“So what brings you here?” My father and Morty settled back into their chairs while Riven and I stood.
“On a break,” Riven said simply, not providing any further detail.
“A day? Two days?” My father reached for his pipe, which sat on his desk. He put it in his mouth and lit it.
“A month, actually.”
My head snapped in his direction. He never came home for that long. It was always a day or two at a time.
“I just really wanted some peace and quiet,” Riven said right as one of the girls screamed his name outside the window, making us all jump.
“Right.” My father’s eyes shifted toward the window. “How is that working out for you?”
Poor Riven. He had built an amazing career, but it couldn’t be easy never having any privacy with all these women and girls fawning over him nonstop.
“It’s a work in progress,” Riven said dismissively, frowning at Morty. “Why is your shop trying to kill Emma?”
My mouth dropped open at the abrupt change of topic.
“Kill is a strong word.” I gave a nervous laugh. Speaking of killing, I was going to wring that dragon’s neck for saying something to Riven. I knew my friend well enough to know he wouldn’t drop this until it was resolved.
“What?” my father asked, pipe hanging from his mouth.
Riven jabbed a finger in the direction of Steeped in Love. “I just witnessed a window shatter all over her.”
He sounded upset about it. Really upset.
“It wasn’t that big of a deal.” I waved my hand in the air.
Riven’s jaw locked. “You could’ve gotten seriously hurt.”
“But I didn’t,” I argued.
He took a step closer, looming over me. I’d forgotten how big he was. “Because I shielded you.”
“Well, that was sweet,” Morty interjected.
“And I’m fine,” I said, an edge to my voice. The last thing I wanted was my father worrying about me. Stressing out his heart.
“But you might not be next time.” Riven turned to Morty. “So how do we fix this?”
