"You're about to fire me, aren't you?" she asked as he continued to glare at her silently.
"I probably should."
A shadow crossed her face, before she averted her eyes. Any way he looked at the situation, she didn't belong here. Which meant - whatever her intentions were - she was a new kind of challenge, and Xander found himself intrigued. Maybe this is what he needed, especially after the disconcerting talk with Eden the prior day.
"Fall colors," she said in the tense silence. "I'd change your décor to fall colors. Maroons, browns. Something warmer and more intimate."
"That's your impression of me? Warm and intimate? Like Santa Clause or some shit?"
"Definitely not Santa Clause," she said with a laugh. "But otherwise, yeah. You seem to have depth, but this place is like a hospital. I can't stand all the right angles in here, by the way. There's no room to breathe."
Xander glanced around. The perfect alignment of the interior of his condo was born of his desire to control his surroundings. It was instinctive after so many years. He knew he did it; he wanted it that way. The world outside his temporary home was constantly changing; here, he was almost at ease.
No depth. She was right. He wanted challenge everywhere but here. It explained why he was so unsettled with this woman; she was intruding in his orderly place of refuge.
She'd make a great tool to use against any enemies he wanted to spy on, he admitted. They'd be unable to sense her, until she was within striking range. Did Jonny figure that out and plan to use her against him? If so, what was the Black God after?
"Do you prefer dark brown or dark gray?" she asked absently.
"Black. Why?"
"I'm trying to have a conversation."
"What color I like has no bearing on anything," he said then tilted his head to the side. "Which do you prefer?"
"Of the two: Brown. Like chocolate. It goes with just about anything."
Definitely not an assassin. She was too … nice to slash a man's throat. She didn't have the edge an assassin would. Or maybe, she was a damned good one, able to throw him off the scent.
"Done!" she exclaimed. She wrung the water out of his shirt and walked down the hallway towards the laundry room. "If I still have a job, I'll see you in the morning?"
She paused at the edge of the hallway and living room, gazing at him expectantly.
"Show up at eight. We'll see what happens," he replied.
"It's been interesting." She frowned then walked through the kitchen to reach the stairs rather than cross through the living area, where he stood.