Truth be told, Phillip didn't expect much out of his contract with Arleen— well, Mrs. Farrier, as she insisted he call her. It had been a week since she'd been under his employ, and a rather interesting one at that. During the negotiations for her contract, she suggested that she'd be his bodyguard.
"Huh? Bodyguard?" Phillip nearly spit out his soda. "Why in the world would you want that? I was gonna have you be a secretary, or something, you know? Busy work."
"Busy work. Right. Contractor, tell me, do you really plan on taking more supernatural clients?" Arleen seemed way too familiar with her surroundings for Phillip. She'd been in his office with him for well over 12 hours, sitting on a more comfortable sofa he had set up in the corner.
"Of course I do. Normal folks are welcome, but—"
"If your plan is to trick beings that could kill you as simply as they breathe, you're going to need a bodyguard. It would be foolish to assume others would stay their hand like I have." She flashed a smile, and Phillip couldn't help but notice her fangs.
"You're right…"
"If I'm right, what else is there to discuss?"
And that was that. They finalized the contract soon after, and from then on, they were stuck with each other. Arleen decided to move in with Phillip. Both of them knew she wanted him to die so she could enthrall him as soon as possible, but Phillip had a lot of time to think about her words. That being said, he definitely wasn't going to stop with her. Any client he got from this business would have something he could take from them… and there was no way they'd ALL be fine with the results. He was only a mortal, too. Sure, he had access to contract magic, but it was nowhere near as powerful as the kind of deal a devil could make, or even a trick a fairy might pull on someone. Worse yet, he couldn't use any other kinds of magic, much less to defend himself. He always made sure to write in a clause that could deter an attack, but that was it.
He realized quickly that she was the best help he could've gotten, and she seemed to realize too. He began to question if he should have tricked her the way he did. But he had a plan, and feeling bad for it wouldn't progress anything. This was an amazing starting point, and if she was so old and wizened, he's not the only one to blame for her decisions.
***
"Mrs. Farrier, could I talk to you for a minute?" Phillip called down from the fourth floor. Arleen appeared in front of him almost instantly, scaring the hell out of him and knocking him on his back. "I thought you were downstairs!"
"I was. What do you want, contractor?"
"House rules! I wanted to be polite about it, but we need some house rules!" Phillip brushed himself off and crossed his arms. "I didn't ask for you to move in with me, but since you're so adamant about staying, we need to make sure we don't get into each other's way."
"Another agreement? You seem to be quite fond of those. Unfortunately, I don't plan on cooperating with you any further than I need to." Arleen turned to walk away, but Phillip grabbed her shoulder. This didn't break her stride at all and he stumbled forward. "Contractor," she growled.
"One rule. ONE rule! And I won't even bind it! Mrs Farrier, I'm asking for baseline respect, here."
"What?"
"Do NOT suck blood in the brownstone."
Arleen scoffed. "You're a child. Fine, contractor. Don't bother me with this again." She walked away without making a sound. That's gonna be annoying, Phillip thought.
Arleen spent most of her time in the study on the second floor. It was about the same size as Phillip's office, but this one had a large window facing the building's garden. It was still new to her, stepping in the sunlight, but she embraced it with little hesitation. She wasn't just here for that, though. The chests she had brought the contractor were sitting in front of her, opened. She knew the names of every person who gave her these gifts, and she missed them all. She knew she would outlive the contractor, one way or another, and when she did, his glasses would go right inside one of these. It would be the first time she kept something out of spite.
Not long after their conversation, Phillip got a notification on his phone from his work email. He rushed down the stairs and sat at his computer, tapping his foot in excitement. "A new client…!" Phillip squeaked out.
"So soon, contractor? It hasn't even been a full week." Phillip hit his knee on the desk when he realized Arleen was sitting there, scrolling on her phone.
"God…" he did his best to ignore her and opened the email.
SUBJECT: Setting a meeting
Good morning, Mr. Brunel! My name's George Pearson. I'd like to know if you had time to schedule a meeting ASAP? I don't have a standard request but I hope you can get back to me soon? Thanks so much.
SUBJECT: Re: Setting a meeting
Hey, it's Phillip Brunel. I'm free today at 3:00. Would you mind telling me some details about what kind of work you're expecting from me?
SUBJECT: Re: Re: Setting a meeting
I'd rather not discuss that over email. I'll make sure I come on time. See you soon!
Phillip span around in his chair and did a fist pump. "Yes! Man, which website are they finding my ads from?"
"If this man has ties to the supernatural, it likely doesn't have anything to do with your actual advertising strategies." Arleen put her phone away. "I did find you online, myself, but I'm more tech savvy than the average immortal. No, you're wielding a powerful and ancient magic, and letting the world know you have it. You're likely being dowsed."
"Eh? Dowsed? That shouldn't be possible." Phillip raised an eyebrow and leaned forward.
"Your type of magic hasn't been wielded by a mortal alone for as long as I can remember. You don't know how to hide it, and even if you did, it's not like you want to, either. Many magical beings have the ability to search for sources of magic near them. After I saw your ad, I did it myself to confirm. Strangely enough, I didn't detect you until you officially opened for business."
"Hm. Well, as long as I'm not bothered after-hours, I don't care. A client's a client." Phillip started to straighten up his office, throwing away empty cans and sorting loose papers. "Oh, by the way, are you going to be sitting in on the meeting?"
"Of course, contractor. It's my job."