Mimi's Demons

Chapter 77: Legal Work! As in it's not Illegal.

He'd only got as far as the front hall when Mimi appeared in an adjacent door, looking particularly small and cute in a pink paisley jumper and a robin's egg blue bow in her hair.

Just as he opened his mouth to greet her, a boom of thunder shook the air, making even him jump just a little. Mimi left the floor entirely, but she did a good job keeping her features schooled as though nothing had happened.

Her determination to keep face amused him to no end. Hadn't he already seen her at her worst?

"What do you need, kitten?"

"I want to sit on your lap," she said without preamble.

"Oh?" While pleased she was coming to him so soon after the whole fainting incident, he did have somewhere to be. But he didn't want to discourage her. That would be the worst. How would his Overlord vision come true with her on his arm rest as he tortured the peons ever happen if she didn't feel like she could come to him at all times? Not to mention it tickled him pink at the idea of having her on his lap, just like a real kitten but a million times better!

Thunder shook the manor and Mimi jumped again. Her mouth went tight enough to pale.

He caught her hands fisted at her side.

"Is the storm making you nervous?"

He didn't miss her hesitation. So she was being brave.

"I don't like storms anymore," she said, quietly, and with a look at her feet.

He hummed. "I imagine not, after living in a parking garage."

She shot him that disbelieving look she always did when he was particularly perceptive. It was funny how much underestimated him. Maybe one day he could trick her into believing he really could read her mind.

Well, then. There was only one choice.

"Come along." He slipped off his coat. "Papa won't let the storm hurt you."

She wrinkled her nose and he fully expected her to protest that she wasn't a baby or that he couldn't do anything about the storm even if he wanted to. But, to his delight, she simply came forward and let him bundle her up in his long duster. She was so small it dragged along the ground behind her. Delightful.

He picked her up at the door and carried her out to the waiting Benz like the little black felt burrito she was. She drew back to avoid the rain, but he just pulled up more of the coat to cover her head, keeping his word to protect her from that mean awful storm. Within a few seconds she was safe in the back of the car and one of Omen's men was already handing in a coat for her, as though they had predicted she'd be coming along with him from the start. It even matched her outfit to a tee. Perhaps Serena picked out a coat ahead of time to give to the guard should any situation arise where Mimi might need it.

The storm beat down with a fury atop the car, so Omen, sitting in the driver's seat, had to speak up, even after Duke had closed the door behind him.

"Hello, Little Miss."

"Hey, Omen," she said from within her cocoon.

Duke decided not to refrain and pulled Mimi onto his lap.

She squirmed. "I have to put my seatbelt on!"

"Not so. Omen would sooner die then get in a car crash."

"I'll be the first to die if we do," said Omen with a hint of amusement.

"And you said you wanted to sit on my lap," said Duke.

Mimi scowled at him as though he had mentioned her deepest humiliation, but stopped trying to escape. Her blue, Mary Jane shoes, peeking out from the folds of his coat, pinched in to each other on the seat.

"Where are we going?" she asked as Omen pulled out. The windshield wipers were going full speed even though they had yet to leave the cover of the front yard's trees.

"Just business. And before you get excited, no, there won't be any murder. I told you most of what I do is actually legal. I'm not all mayhem and carnage."

"Lame," she puffed.

Which he found a bit befuddling sense she had just gotten over being scared of him for whatever reason. But, of course, Mimi and her need to save face. Duke knew very well the tough image she held for herself.

"I've got a meeting with the department heads of this regions Copec Industries. Very big. Very important. Or, at least, that's how they'll all see themselves."

Mimi's pale little face in his coat frowned. "Is it okay for me to be there?"

"Of course."

"But I'm eleven. What if I misbehave or something?"

Duke snorted. "You could dance on the table for all I care. They're the ones that need to behave themselves. Don't you remember what I've told you?"

"Um, you've told me a lot of things?"

He poked her little nose, chuckling when her eyes screwed up. "The only one you need to listen to is me. I'm the boss of you, no one else."

She blinked. "So...?"

"All those beneath me are beneath you unless I say otherwise." He smiled, deeply satisfied in a way he never knew he could be to be saying this. "Besides, you're too sober for a kid. It would do you good to do some acting out."

"I'm not dancing on the table. I'm not doing anything stupid like that, this is a business meeting, millions of dollars are probably on the line, I am not screwing that up."

He clicked his tongue. "Pity. They're awfully boring. I was hoping for some entertainment."

"Then do it yourself."

"Ah, sweet, you of all people know the importance of keeping an image. And, well, I'm not much of a dancer."

"Shocker, I thought you were good at everything."

"Whatever gave you that idea?"

"With great evil comes great talent?"

He laughed. He laughed hard.

Did he ever say cute things like this to his dad? Probably not. Mimi was an infinitely better kid than he was. 

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I don't wanna make dinner tonight. I don't want to think about it, I don't want to look about it, don't want my husband to worry about it either, he does too much as it is. Why can't I just have a slave monkey who snaps his fingers and something glorious appears? Scratch that, why do I always have to take healthy, alternative homemade routes when it's so much easier to just buy something in a box that I throw in the oven and be done with it?

Curse you love. Making me concerned about the physical welfare of my family.