"Hmm," he glowers at her as the sarcasm practically drips from her mouth. Maybe it was her "charming" personality that got her into all that trouble. Truly, Brenden was sure it was that attitude that put her into certain predicaments. If he was... more irritable than he already was, he would find his temper fraying and yet, he holds on, successfully burying that annoyance as deep as he possibly can. Her constant nicknames seemed like a self defense mechanism, he was certain there was more to the woman than what she was showing him. Whether he cared or not remained to be seen as his new nickname came rolling of her tongue. He doesn't respond, instead looking at her through furrowed brows. She wasn't about to bait him into showing her anything. It's the rolling of her eyes that has a flash of annoyance dance through his features, Brenden's nostrils flaring slightly, her long drawn out words making his eye want to twitch. Taking a mentally long and deep breath, he blinks at her, brows furrowed at her in that grumpy fashion.

He offers a hand, though she refuses to take it, making quite the awkward movements as she stands and puts that piece of paper in her pocket. The man decides then that he had wished he had torn it to shreds, to maybe tone down that ego of hers, that overconfidence that was surely going to get her into trouble with him. Still, he doesn't drop his hand until they've shared on it, her hand warm and strong in his. Folding his arms over his chest, he grunts out to her that he's a warlock, the woman, of course, having something to say, Brenden merely raising a brow at her. "I'm not a good man, problem solved," he states before his brow returns to his normal furrowing, that grumpiness merely wafting off of him. He wasn't about to be compared to other warlocks in the city, Brenden merely didn't care for other people, the man hardly polite even to his customers, though the returned time and time again simply because he was good at what he did.

As he shows her that 'tour' of his, he can see the irritation beginning to build in the woman, that sigh falling heavily from her lips as she runs her hand through those thick locks of hair. Brenden watching her carefully as if she were nothing more than prey to him. His arms resume their crossed position over his chest as she prepares herself for the onslaught of words she's about to direct at him. Oh, and she does. The tone of voice she has grates him, Brenden clenching his jaw in the slightest as those intense eyes of his narrow in on her, his focus entirely on her now. Harley had no idea what he was capable of, what he wanted to do to her now, that arrogance of her's needed to be placated. Her tongue was going to get her in real trouble with him, Brenden already feeling that angry fraying as he puts a very short and very tight leash on himself. His body stills at the look she gives him, fire dancing in her eyes and the man can't help but take a single step forward, invading more of her personal space as he successfully blocks her path, the woman now sandwiched between his massive body and the desk.

Unfolding his arms, her last words manage to allow his temper to slip, his nostrils flaring as he leans forward, "Yes, you do. I will make you beg if I have to," he rumbles, immediately regretting his words as he shoves his temper down as hard as he can until he practically chokes on it. He stays there a moment longer, his dark gaze glaring down at her before he takes a step back and puts some distance between the two of them. Reaching for his affinity, he casts it out to one of the leather bindings in his office as it speeds through the air and rockets towards Harley, aimed directly for her stomach. It slams into her, though it's hardly hard enough to cause any damage, maybe knock the wind out of her. Making sure she has it wrapped in her hands before he drops that affinity away, Brenden turns his steely eyes on her once more, "Look and get out," he states gruffly, the leather binding holding some of his most extravagant work he had done and things he had yet to do, though it hardly held any of his personal paintings and drawings, those he kept hidden away, not allowing anyone to see it except for himself.

Brenden was careful to keep his distance from her, the man wanting to lose his tempter in its entirety, not sure what he would do if such a thing would happen. Though, he was aware of how much that tone of hers got under his skin, the man wanting nothing more than to discipline her. He could already feel the regret of hiring her and he could fire her, but the man needed another artist, the volume was too great and as much as he disliked people, he couldn't afford to make the customers upset.