Max

Vikki is surrounded by three females—two humans and a goblin. They're drying her eyes and generally making a huge fuss over her.

"Once again, Mr. Horenson, please accept my apologies." The store manager hovers at my elbow. "I don't know how this mix up could have taken place."

I give him the benefit of a troll stare.

"I do not appreciate being called out of my office for this. My girlfriend tells me she was refused entry when she arrived. I believe you may have staff who require retraining," I intone.

"Absolutely. I will see to it." He wrings his hands and I want to kill him for upsetting Vikki. "I presume…she still wishes to go ahead with the fitting?"

"Of course, she does." I look around the salon. "As I'm here, I think I'll stay, just to be sure."

"Absolutely, absolutely, whatever you want, Mr. Horenson," he gushes, obsequiously. "Please take a seat and we'll get started."

He claps his hands at the three females.

"I'm going to smoke," I growl at him, and he gives me a wincing smile.

"As you wish."

"Get me a whisky," I add. "And lunch. I've not had lunch."

"Yes, yes," he says, bowing and backing away as he glares at the assistants.

I take a seat on the only decent sized piece of furniture in the fitting room, a rather garish gold framed, dark blue upholstered couch. It creaks at my weight. Is every piece of furniture a troll critic?

"You're staying?" Vikki says, dully.

"I'm staying." I settle myself farther into the couch as I light a cigar, then spread my arms along the back, crossing one leg over the top of the other. "Peter's cancelling my appointments for this afternoon."

"No!" she says, quickly. "You don't need to do that for me. I know I should have made more of a fuss. You shouldn't have to come down here…"

More tears are hovering in her eyes, fresh ones. I know enough about her to know she's tougher than she looks, and this can't be just about the idiotic behavior of the staff in this store.

In no time, I'm on my feet and towering over her.

"What is this all about?" I query.

Vikki looks stoically at her battered boots.

"Nothing which concerns you," she says to them.

I slide a hand under her chin and tip her face up so I can look her in the eyes.

"If you're unhappy, it concerns me," I rumble. "Especially if something I did caused your unhappiness."

"It's not you." She tries to tear herself away from me.

"Then who is it?" I growl. "You will tell me."

Vikki releases a soft sob which does something to me I thought long lost. A volcano of rage rises up. I want to swing my battle axe and smash this world down because someone hurt my Vikki.

"Was it anyone in here?" Although my voice is low, I can't keep the anger from it. "If it was, they will pay, believe me."

She shakes her head, swallowing hard. "Not here."

"Then who?" I make a monumental effort to keep my voice even. "Who hurt you?"