Three Mages and a Margarita (The Guild Codex: Spellbound, #1)

by Annette Marie

Maybe far enough away that they wouldn’t have heard about Tori Dawson, the Server of Doom and Despair.

“So, new girl,” Aaron said, distracting my count so I overpoured a vodka. “Are you a natural redhead?” “Are you a natural pain in the ass?” I shot back without thinking. Cursing my runaway mouth, I shoved the accidental double at the customer. “Confirmation via temper,”

“I’ve been working my ass off without so much as a thank-you from a single goddamn person, and you’re jerking me around like a five-year-old with no impulse control. If you so much as open your mouth again, I’ll shove my soda gun down your throat and see if you can crack jokes while you drown!”

Such a weird group of people. What could possibly unite them for a shared gathering? I bolted upright in my seat as I figured it out. Assholes Anonymous. This was a therapy group for mean people.

When he wasn’t talking, the jerk was almost charming.

I had a job, my wage had taken a huge jump, and management let me yell at customers. I really couldn’t complain.

“Aaron isn’t mentioning his string of relationships that’ve failed spectacularly. We take bets on how long each girl will last.” Aaron scowled. “The current average is four months,” Ramsey added. “Wait, wait,” I cut in. “Aaron has located multiple women who were willing to tolerate him for four whole months?”

My heart gave a small flutter and I sternly told it to quit that bullshit.

“That’ll depend on Tori.” “Me?” I asked blankly. “If you want pizza with pineapple on it, we’ll have to throw you out.” I blinked, not entirely sure if he was joking, but Aaron laughed. “If she wants pineapple, she can have it. You don’t have to eat it.” “Its existence alone is an insult to all pizza.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to borrow a shirt?” I looked down. My boobs stared back at me. “Fine. I’ll borrow a shirt.” All three of them sighed, but I wasn’t sure if it was from disappointment or relief.

I nodded at his fan club. “I couldn’t resist crushing their souls.”

you can’t share?” “Mmphrm.” I wanted to point out he’d eat twice as much as me if I let him, but three chocolate sticks was too much to talk through.

“This is my world-famous teriyaki stir-fry. You love it, remember?” I remembered eating it, not loving it, but I nodded noncommittally while saying a silent prayer for the poor vegetables drowning in sauce. Rest in salty peace, carrots and broccoli.