I was undecided entirely as to whether I found the manner in which she fiddled with her lip running agitating or mildly attractive. Kat biting down on her lip whenever she was in some deep moment of thought forever managed to gain my attention and yet where I stood on facial piercing remained to be seen. If anything the women still looked almost jumpy, as if she was worried I was about to mug her or something and honestly I am not entirely sure what she even has of value to steal. The TV, I suppose, although really even that looks outdated. Her sudden assurance that now was a perfectly good time despite the fact I was almost assured she was in her pyjamas saw me stepping forward to follow her, pausing briefly to assure myself the flooring was actually carpet or some other acceptable material before stepping forward to stand within the doorframe. It took only another moment to remove my shoes, honestly I never have understood why people don't take their shoes off when going into someone's home- it is a dying art. Shoes, after all, have been touching the street and no part of me can be convinced the street is actually clean.

Amaya, it would seem, had taken that moment to change, the outfit she wandered out in now considerably more flattering then what she had been wearing before, my blue gold gaze content to admire her rather slender figure from behind the lenses of my glasses. Indoors or not, aside from my own home and Kat's (though it had taken me over 6 months) I simply never removed my glasses. They were designed entirely for me, after all, I'd been having them made for years after discovering the easiest way to stop myself from being, lets call it, distracted, was to stop myself seeing the distractions entirely- the lenses significantly darker than normal to the point most of my surroundings, especially inside- were little more than shape and shadow. They made my world bearable, stopped me seeing things I simply didn't want to see and maybe the doctors disagreed on that, were far more convinced therapy was needed and yet- if I can get by on sunglasses and sex I hardly see a need for anything else.

Her comment in regards to men at the door was...unusual at best, my head tilting ever so slightly in momentary confusion. Maybe she was having a rather significant dry spell? It happened to all of us at some point I'm sure- my mind having failed in that moment, perhaps, to truly perceive the meaning behind her words. Lips pulling upward into an easy grin all the same as she gestured towards the sink. Her house was neat enough, actually it was a rather pleasant little place although she seemed to have breakfast dishes in her sink. I frowned momentarily, pausing to lift the bowl and spoon that I can only assume had cereal at some point. I don't think I've eaten breakfast in years- when you get up at 4pm you tend to miss it.

"Where is your dishwasher?"

She had either hidden it remarkably well or her kitchen didn't actually have one. It should have occurred to me, I suppose, that she may not actually appreciate my tidying and yet honestly- I have a condition, I truly cannot help myself and I can hardly wash my hands on top of her dishes now can I? I put the bowl to the side for now, awaiting further instruction in that regard before moving to actually wash my hands- the woman also lacking anti-bacterial soap but I suppose I could manage for now as I dried them off. Her attempt to offer me wine saw one eye lift slightly, head tilting to glance briefly at the clock. It was barely past four-thirty, then again, maybe she just enjoys living life- I'm hardly going to judge her on that.

"No, thank you, I'm fine."

She moved to take the water off the stove, making her own cup of tea before seating herself at the bench, my own form simply moving to lean against the counter-tup, resting my head in the palm of my hand lazily as she pulled out a notepad and paper. Well, she was efficient- if not a little old fashioned, it's been rather awhile since I've seen anyone prepare themselves to take note. Truly I applaud her pioneering spirit. My attempt to answer her first question however, was ended by a second question, followed by a third and a fourth until I simply decided it was better to leave her to merely ask all the questions at once before offering an answer to any of them- simply waiting patiently for her to find the end of her curiosity. Why anyone thinks I'm a bad boss I hardly know, I believe I'm very good at listening to my employees. I'm just not that good at attending board meetings....or any meetings, or showing up at the office, or doing taxes, or remembering not to stand up when in a conference call with a video link after forgetting I didn't actually put pants on. I had boxer shorts at least- it could have been worse. I'm also not very good a firing people, I mean....I don't like upsetting people, or hurting them for that matter. So shoot me I'm a nice guy. Even if that makes me potentially the worst Hunter to ever exist. I managed to chuckle softly at her words all the same, dismissing my own thoughts, lip quirked upward in amusement again.

"Why don't we just do one question at a time, hmm?"

I continued to lean easily against the bench, fingers drumming softly against it- considering her words for a moment or two, arranging her own questions within my mind.

"The issue with my current team, I suppose, is that I don't really like them. Several of them I trust, the other's I don't. I'm being sued by my sister, it's a long story though I'm sure you'll hear it in time. Either way, I believe one or two of my financial assistants are loyal, if you will, to my sister and may be shifting the numbers a little too much for my liking. I want someone independent to look over them for me. I need to know exactly the value of my assets and I need them to be organised. I have most of the data I just need you to, well, analyse it. I could do it myself but to be perfectly honest that sounds long and tedious and I'd rather not."

Well. I was honest, if anything. I am very good at numbers, indeed I was bordering entirely upon the genius spectrum- not that most people truly believe it and yet my capacity to focus on one task for very long is not entirely my greatest skill. Boredom comes quickly to the gifted I assure you. I wish it didn't, I wish for even one day I could have a mind that didn't constantly tick over and over until I was exhausted. Not that it mattered, I could hardly change it. At least not without the assistance of drugs both prescription and otherwise.

"My sister is claiming fifty-one percent of what I own, I need to know exactly how much that is though the legal team will assist you there, you would mostly be working with more financial matters, organising it, analysing it, making sure I am not being lied to I suppose. As for how long it would be, as long as it takes, two or three months perhaps? I understand your free-lance but I'll make sure you don't make any losses or anything by focusing your time on this."

I hardly know what she usually earns a month but I am entirely assured I can at least match it if money is going to be an issue for her.

"You can wear whatever you want, I hardly care, my company headquarters are on the North side, I can get you an office there if you want- I don't know the address exactly I've never been to it, if you'd rather work from home though, or even my home it hardly matters- whatever works."

Alright, so I don't know where my office is, why on earth would I want to go there anyway? Maybe this is why my investors don't like me all that much. If I wasn't so successful they probably would have left by now.

"As for the plants I...suppose if you desire to carry plants around with you that would be fine, although if you are ever at my place I am going to have to ask you leave them at the door. My fake plants might get jealous of your real plants and then we will have all sorts of issues."

I grinned easily once more, chuckling lightly as I teased at her. Honestly I see no reason why I can't be her friend all the same.

"How much do you normally charge for you work? Would three or four an hour be acceptable? You'd just keep a log of how many hours you spend on it, submit it each week and you'll be paid accordingly."

Honestly- she almost looked confused.

"Hundred. Three or four hundred an hour, I didn't mean three or four dollars."






k o h l
so you want to play with magic?