by Eve Langlais
“I have all that I need.” A desk with a chair. A mattress on the floor in the bedroom.
“Nonsense,” Lucifer exclaimed. “I can’t have the head of Grim Dating living in such poverty. It reflects badly on me. Not to mention, austerity is something my brother always condoned. You should know by now I’m more into indulgence.” Lucifer snapped his fingers, and from the ether, a creature appeared, squat and bald with scaly green skin.
“Pokie,” Bambi exclaimed. “Long time no see.”
“My fair mistress.” Pokie sketched a bow in her direction. “You are looking more covered than usual.”
“You like?” She shrugged the robe off her shoulder. “I read an article detailing how less is sometimes more.”
Lucifer agreed. “The author of that article was right. Nothing better than when Gaia dresses in her Victorian era clothes. So many layers to peel to get to the juicy center.”
It gave Brody a sudden urge to find a Tootsie Roll lollipop, a strange treat given to him by a dryad who’d spent an inordinate amount of time sucking hers and asking him if he liked it.
“Brody, I’d like you to meet the best man servant a Dark King could ever have. Philokrates. He’s the last of the Atlanteans. Brilliant people. Shame about what happened.”
Everyone had heard of the tragedy. None spoke of it. It occurred during one of Lucifer and Gaia’s breakups.
“Sir.” Brody inclined his head.
Philokrates snorted. “Not a sir, Commander.” He looked to the king. “You bellowed?
“I did. I need your interior design skills to transform this dreary apartment into a proper boudoir.” Lucifer swept a hand.
“You thinking red velvet and gold tassels?” Bambi asked, an appraising eye taking in the space.
“Or do we want to go chrome, shag, and leather?” Lucifer mused, rubbing the goatee on his chin.
“How about we keep it looking like an office since none of the actual hookups happen here?” Brody interjected.
“Actually, boy, that’s about to change. The operation is about to expand. I’m adding the British Reaper Guild, as well as the Netherlands. We are going international, people.”
“We are?” Bambi appeared just as surprised.
“Yes, which means you need to get your ass back to Hell, daughter, and keep on top of things. We’ll need to triple the application process. I want more babies!”
“And you will get those babies. I will ride my team as hard as I did that football team in ninety-three,” she swore. And then she was gone, a lingering scent of perfume and brimstone the only sign left behind.
“Ah, she does me proud. Just don’t tell her. I’d hate to kill her for getting cocky.” Lucifer crooked his finger. “Let’s go.”
“I don’t really have the time—”
“It wasn’t a request.”
Brody found himself yanked close. The Devil never traveled by mundane means. He snapped his fingers, and they were standing in a massive office with windows overlooking the city. So many windows… The opposite of the guild in Hell.
“What is this place?”
“Your new office.”
“Mine?” His eyes widened as he took another glance.
A massive desk of polished wood took up the most space, behind it a leather chair so plush it cradled his body when the Devil shoved him into it and spun it around.
“Tada! Welcome to Grim Dating headquarters. Nice, eh?” The Devil winked.
“Seems rather lavish.” But he couldn’t help admiring it. The bigger guilds in Hell had luxuries his could only dream of.
“It is the height of decadence. And necessary. Think big, boy. This operation is about to get huge.”
“I thought the plan was to remain low-key?”
“Fuck hiding what we’re doing.” Lucifer slammed a fist into his palm, and thunder boomed outside. “It might do those bastards in Heaven some good to get nervous. Maybe they’ll react and give me a hint at what’s happening behind those pearly gates.”
“You think a war is coming?”
“Let’s just say you should keep your scythe sharp. But enough about the possible futures I am trying to manipulate.” The Devil fixed him with a flame-lit stare. “According to my reports, you’ve yet to find someone special for Posie Ringwald. I’m disappointed, Brody.”
That wasn’t something anyone, even a reaper, wanted to hear the Devil say. “I’ve been trying, sir.”
“Not hard enough!”
“She sees through glamour,” he blurted out, hating to give an excuse, but an angry Devil was one that needed placating.
Lucifer smiled. “I know all about her ability to see past the facade. A rare gift, which is why it’s important you pair her with the right fellow.”
“Which is the problem. I’ve been trying.” To the point she complained at his door the previous night, looking nervous at first and then feisty. He shrugged. “She sees everyone I send as they are. She thinks they’re dressing up and is rejecting all I send her way without hesitation.”
“Because you’re sending her the wrong kind of guys. She needs someone human looking. Someone who will fool her senses.”
Brody grimaced. “That doesn’t leave us with many options. Almost every single demon is out, leaving werewolves in between full moons, vampires, wizards, the fallen.” He ticked off his fingers. “Who else?”
“You forgot the most obvious of all.”
“Who?” he asked.
The Devil smiled. “Reapers.”
“Set her up with one of my crew?” He frowned, and yet he shouldn’t have. A few of his people had been playing with some of the human potentials. In the case of Gary, he’d moved in with his mortal lady friend.
“I don’t care which reaper bangs her. You, someone else. Doesn’t matter so long as someone is getting into her pants and soon.”
He glanced around the new office and realized something that might impede the Dark Lord’s wishes. “You do realize if I move my operation to this office, then I won’t have the same opportunities to have her run into potentials at the apartment building.”
“You could sign her up to become a member of Grim Dating. Humans love free things.”
“She’ll say no.” He knew that for a certainty.
“Yes, she is rather stubborn like that.” The Devil rubbed his chin. “Don’t worry. I have a plan.”
More ominous words were never spoken.
8
“You’re fired.”
“What? I don’t understand.” Posie stood in front of her boss’s desk.
Mr. Kulley—in his late fifties, balding, with a paunch—was usually a very affable and kind man. Even now he looked apologetic, but firm on his stance. “I am sorry, Posie, but I’m afraid the new Mrs. Kulley isn’t comfortable with you being my secretary anymore.” The new Mrs. Kulley being a young thing who thought everyone was eyeballing her man. Apparently, she could use glasses.
“I’ve worked for you for eight years.”
“I know. I am so very, very sorry. I promise to give you an excellent reference and three months’ severance.”
“This isn’t fair.” Her voice rose in pitch.
“Six months.”
No amount of pleading changed his mind. She was still numb with the news when she got to her building. She grabbed her mail as if on autopilot, barely paying attention to the green lady who walked in, her bits covered by leaves, alongside the guy with the long beard. The D&D wizard player. He waved. By reflex, she waved back.
Given she was stuck staring into space for a moment, she missed the elevator and had to wait for it to come back down. When the door opened, a looming shadow filled it for a moment, and then the hood came down and her neighbor from across the hall peered at her.
“Are you okay, Posie?” he asked, brow creased in concern.
“How do you know my name?” Because they’d never actually been introduced.
He pointed to the mail in her hand.
“Oh.” She w
aited for him to exit the cab, except he didn’t move.
“You didn’t answer my question. Why do you appear upset?”
“I got fired today.” Since he didn’t seem keen on getting out, she entered the cab with him and pressed the button for their floor. He still made no move, and the doors slid shut.
“Why were you fired?”
“Because a mistress-turned-wife said Mr. Kulley had to get rid of me.” Her lips turned down. “As if I’d have ever flirted with Mr. Kulley. He’s older than my father.”
Her neighbor jerked as if shoved, and she squinted at the space beside him. It shimmered, as if hot. “That’s terrible,” he said. “But also fortuitous.”
“How is that lucky?” she snapped. “I have no job.”
“It so happens I am in need of a secretary.”
“First off, what makes you think I’d be good for that job? Is it because I’m a woman?”
“No, but because you are a secretary. Or were.”
“Says who?”
“I saw you. Office on Huegl Street with a window overlooking the sidewalk.”
A valid reply for his reasoning. Still…
He spoke quicker as the elevator slowed. “I need a secretary to handle my affairs. You need a job. Seems like the perfect match.” For some reason he winced and glared at the heat spot beside him.
She’d seen what kind of business he ran. Out of his apartment. No way was she taking part in that. “Thank you for offer; however, I’m going to have to decline.”
“Why?”
“For one, I don’t believe you really run a dating service. Look at you.” She swept a hand. “Your outfit is more suitable for a funeral. Your expression as well. Would it kill you to smile?”
“Not me, but I can’t speak for those that might see it.”
“See what I mean about your sense of humor? And you expect me to believe you run a successful business?”
“What does my expression and ability to jest have to do with matching people up?” He followed her onto their floor once the doors slid open.
“Everything. People who use matchmakers need to trust them. And I’ll be honest, you don’t look the type to care if people get their happily ever after.”
“Not you, too,” he grumbled. “What does love and happiness have to do with it?”
Her brows arched. “Everything.”
“My instructions were to pair humans and…er…other people together.”
“Instructions from who?”
Again, it was if he meant to say one thing but settled for something else. “My boss.”
“And why does your boss want people to get together?”
“In order to increase the population, of course.”
That brought a frown. “Hold on, that doesn’t sound like dating, more like a baby-making scam.”
“You misunderstand. I’m looking to ensure the people who meet form a bond for a lifetime, which usually includes a family.”
“Why does it sound like you’re reciting something you’ve heard but don’t believe in?”
“The truth? I have a hard time believing in this whole love thing. Love is a messy, painful thing.”
“On that we agree.” Posie had tried it a few times. It never worked out. And as time ticked on, and her paranoia increased, she stopped even trying.
“This matchmaking thing… It wasn’t my idea, but I’m kind of stuck with it. And I could use help.” He almost sounded sincere.
“I am not working across the hall.”
“What if I said I now have an actual office?”
“That isn’t in your living room or bedroom?”
His lips twitched. “As of today, I have an entire building at my disposal.”
If true, that did more or less legitimize it. “What’s the salary?”
He mentioned something twice what she was making now, with benefits and a pension plan, plus a month vacation per year. It seemed too good to be true, but she couldn’t exactly be picky. She held out her hand. “Very well. I accept your terms, Mr…?”
“Reaper. Brody Reaper. Welcome to Grim Dating, Posie Ringwald.”
The leather grip was warmer than expected and brief. He yanked his hand away as if burned.
“When do I start?” she asked.
“Tomorrow.”
For her first day, Mr. Reaper—the fakest name she’d ever heard—told her to present herself at HR, second floor, in a building at the heart of downtown. Not a bad commute. A single subway each way.
The building itself proved more impressive than expected. Three stories, with a massive sign out front, gunmetal and etched in black letters: Grim Dating.
And it appeared their shtick was that the employees wore robes. The moment she entered, she saw one, sitting behind the desk, hood down low, body hunched as they played on a phone. As she stepped into the building, the robed figure sprang to action and swung a scythe that stopped an inch from her nose.
“Ha! So close. Almost got you,” a male voice exclaimed.
“You’re lucky I don’t have a weak bladder,” was her retort. “I hope you don’t greet customers like this.”
The guy in the reaper robe propped his scythe and freed his head from his hood. “You saw that?”
“Kind of hard to miss. Is this an act for the job?”
“Er. No. Um. I have to go.” The guy practically ran with his giant farmer’s knife.
There wasn’t much to see. The now empty desk, a few conference rooms, also currently empty, their glass windows allowing a clear view inside.
At the far end, a bank of elevators. Mr. Reaper had said second floor for HR. The elevator opened immediately, and in under a minute, she was on the second floor with the many doors.
Marketing. Research. Human Guises. Animal Guises.
She really didn’t want to see in there. She hurried to the far end to the one marked HR, the sign taped over the previous one that said Supply Closet.
She didn’t hold high hopes when she knocked on the door.
It opened, and a small face peered at her, blinking owlishly behind glasses. “Who are you?”
“Posie Ringwald. I was hired by Mr. Reaper to be his secretary.”
“Aren’t you an interesting choice.” The woman eyed her up and down, her pupils enlarging to the point of overtaking the lens then suddenly shrinking to size as she quipped, “Won’t you come inside so we can handle the paperwork.”
Inside was as small as expected. The lower shelves had been removed to allow for a chair and a table to act as a desk. A stool perched in front of it. The only other thing was a laptop with a flame symbol lit on the back of it. She’d never seen the brand before.
“Choose a seat. Make yourself comfortable.”
Posie eyed the three-legged stool and wondered when it had been last tested. She hoped she didn’t land on her ass as she sat.
It held.
“Welcome, Posie Ringwald, to Grim Dating, a Hell World subsidiary. As you can see, we are an up-and-coming, successful company.”
She glanced at the generic giant bottles of cleaning solution overhead and couldn’t help the sarcasm. “Obviously making a killing.”
“Not anymore. Now instead of taking people’s lives, we’re ruining them because everyone knows marriage is a crock.” Said with a wide smile.
“If you don’ believe in Grim Dating, then why work here?”
“Excuse me?”
“Well, you just said you’re ruining people’s lives.”
Her mouth dropped open. “You heard that?”
“You said it quite clearly.”
The woman blinked. “Excuse me a minute while I go freak out.”
“Why freak out?”
“Eep.” The woman fled, and Posie frowned.
Now what? Had she sat down in the wrong office? Or was someone playing a prank?
She stood, but before she could exit the closet, suddenly he was there, a massive shadow over the door, broad, tall, looming, and ominous.
She scowled. “Come to laugh at your joke?”
“You’re early. I meant to arrive before you and warn Mrs. Lenore.”
“Warn her about what?”
“You.” He tugged the hood, showing off a quirky smile. “See, I don’t really have an HR department yet. I’m afraid the pressure of pretending got to Mrs. Lenore.”
“You could have just told me the truth.”
He winced. “Apparently, I won’t have a choice.”
“Is the job fake, too?”
He shook his head. “No. It’s quite real, I assure you. And could get as interesting as your meeting with Mrs. Lenore. You might have surmised by now we don’t exactly deal in regular human types.”
“They’re still human even if they dress up.”
Once more he grimaced. “I wouldn’t recommend saying that to them. Some can be quite touchy.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. So where is my office?” Hopefully he didn’t give her a bathroom stall or a stairwell.
They went to the third floor, a massive space. In the center of the room was a circular reception desk with a woman sitting primly. Her hair coiled atop her head looked like real snakes.
Mr. Reaper waved a hand in her direction. “This is our security for this floor. Medusa, say hello to my new secretary, Posie Ringwald.”
A silver gaze, almost mirror-like, lifted to meet hers. “You’re rather red-blooded for this level. Are you sure that’s a good idea?” she asked her boss.
Mr. Reaper leaned close. “Be good and remember Ms. Ringwald is going to be my eyes in this place. She sees more than the average person.”
Say what? Posie almost frowned. Yes, a compliment, but a strange one.
“This isn’t wise,” Medusa hissed, and her snake wig shook with her.
“Take it up with the big boss.”
Medusa’s lips drew back. “Hail—” She paused and slewed a silvery gaze at Posie. “Hail to the chief.”
Weird. Reaper moved away, and Posie followed as he gave her a quick rundown.” “This level has all the upper management for Grim Dating, my lieutenants, whom you’ll meet as they come into the office.”
“How many people work for you?”
“It’s a fluid number, but any given day? Close to sixty. And then there are the potentials.”