Ahnou shakes his head, taking a sip of tea, but before he answers, his eyes flutter close. “This is amazing. What flavor is it?”
“Oh, it's a specialty—from my café. It's Orange Blossom Jasmine.”
“It tastes like magic in a cup.”
His words send my pulse into hyperdrive.
“Are you just saying that to butter me up before you tell me the bad news?”
The tea cup pauses mid-air between the saucer and his mouth. “What bad news?”
“That I’m in tax trouble.”
“Ah. I should clarify that an audit is a routine procedure that the IRS does every year. People are randomly selected to ensure that taxes are being filed properly.”
Relief crashes over me like a tidal wave. “Oh, I thought that the IRS only audited somebody when they were in trouble with their taxes.”
“Sometimes, but not all the time.”
“So this is only a routine checkup?”
Ahnou winces. “Miss Mabon—Fern—have you received any letters from the IRS?”
My face falls blank as I try to school my features into something that makes me appear semi-competent.
“Yes, of course, I received them.”
“Did you read them?”
My stomach heaves as I fight the urge to throw up.
“If I can be frank, my mother handles my taxes.”
Along with other things.
The giant man frowns before opening up his briefcase. He pulls out a pair of gold-rimmed glasses from his pocket that he perches in the middle of his long snout as he reads something.
They look so adorably perfect on him that I can't stifle the giggle that escapes past my lips. His head jerks up with an inhuman sharpness.
“Is something amusing?”
“N-no,” I stammer. “It’s just that your glasses make you look very studious—they're cute.”
I clamp my mouth shut, my lips twisting into a grimace.
Shut up, Fern!
The Anubis only shoots me another lopsided grin that makes my heart flutter…along with other regions further south.
“I look like an old man with them on,” he grouses, and I clap a hand over my mouth to stifle another laugh because nothing could be further from the truth.
He looks like a nerdy sex god sent from above to taunt me—or maybe it's from below.
“Fern, has your mother always done your taxes?” I nod, and he continues. “In previous years, it doesn't say that they were prepared by anyone but you.”
“Oh, um, I mean my mom is my business manager, and she’s always filed them for me. Like on my behalf…so it was me but not. Wow. I sound like an idiot.”
I mutter this last part under my breath, glancing down at the floor as abject embarrassment consumes me.
Ahnou leans forward, one of his sharp black claws tipping my chin upward. “You're not an idiot.
Owning a business is no small task, and there are many rules and stipulations that can be overlooked or forgotten.
The IRS understands this and adjusts for it. I'm sure it never occurred to either you or your mother for her to say she prepared your taxes since she is not a legal tax preparation company.”
I swallow, my body tingling in awareness at his touch. “O-okay, good.”
It's the best I can manage under the circumstances. Finally, he breaks contact, and I sag back into the couch, relieved yet bereft.
“So is that the only thing you needed to check up on?”
My voice raises up at the end, betraying my inner anxiety worse than the blush that scorches my face.
“I'm afraid not. The real reason that you were flagged for an audit is because your taxes haven't been filed in over two years.”
A chuckle that sounds more like a hysterical cackle bursts free of me and echoes around us.
“That's not possible!”
