by Eve Langlais
However, she wasn’t about to let a guy with an expensive outfit intimidate her. “Very pretty. I’ll bet you spent a whole bunch of money on them. Probably because you still live in your mom’s basement.”
“Actually, he lives in his father’s house,” Julio said in a low voice.
“It’s a palace,” No-Angel countered.
“It’s not yours,” was her counter-counter.
“I have had quite enough of your disrespect.” He loomed, wings spread wide enough to shadow her.
She’d had quite enough of his theatrics. “Enough. Put those wings away. Right now! And then march your butt out of here.”
“I don’t take orders from you.”
Posie crossed her arms. “Do I need to call security?”
“Call the commander. I would speak to him now.”
She stuck to her guns. “If you want to meet with Mr. Reaper, then you need to make an appointment.”
He glared.
She remained steady.
No-Angel snapped his wings shut and stepped forward, menacing her. She didn’t budge.
“You will obey me.”
“Or what?” she asked sweetly. “Lay a hand on me and I will have you charged with assault.”
“By who?”
“The cops, duh.” This guy was taking the act way too far.
“How can you be so blind?” No-Angel muttered aloud. “Is she for real?”
“Very much so,” Julio said.
He stared at her. “I am real. Touch my wings and you’ll see.”
“Don’t make me have you charged with sexual harassment, too. Now if you’re done, please don’t return until you have an appointment. Julio will see to it that it’s arranged.”
“You’ll regret this. The Heavenly Consortium is—”
“Come back when you have an appointment.” She managed to turn him around and, with a tug of his arm, pulled him to the door held open by a beaming Julio.
“You’ll regret this,” No-Angel threatened.
“And there you go again, ruining the whole angel thing. You should think about dyeing your feathers black and tacking a ‘fallen’ on to your roleplaying shtick.”
“You dare—?”
She closed the door before he could finish and finally caught Helga sporting a smile. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen one of those sanctimonious pricks put in his place so well. And without any bloodshed. Good job.”
Odd how the praise warmed her. Only just over a week here and she felt more valued than she had in eight years with Mr. Kulley.
At five to five, she began gathering her things, assuming she’d be walking to the station. She’d not once believed Brody would return for her. Why would he? She was just his secretary, and she’d made it quite clear they had to keep things professional.
As she left, more than one person saluted her and yelled goodbye. It was strange. She gave short smiles and quick waves as she hastened her steps to the elevator. She wasn’t used to any kind of camaraderie at work. She’d barely spoken to most people here, and yet they seemed to be absorbing her in as if she belonged. She just hoped they never expected her to wear the cloak. Every other employee had one. A few she’d mistaken for dresses, but it turned out some of the women had found interesting ways of winding the cloak and pinning it to make the loveliest dresses.
She rode down alone to the ground level. The moment she stepped onto the gray square and glossy tiles of the main entrance, she saw through the vast glass doors just how hard it poured outside. Torrential came to mind. She wanted to sigh, as she could already imagine the wet trudge to her apartment.
“Good night, Ms. Ringwald,” said the guard in the hood at the front desk. It wasn’t Barney, who filled his robe a bit thicker, but a new one who tipped her a finger salute. She was startled enough to wave back. Did everyone in the place already know her?
“Let me get that for you.” Yet another Grim employee, his hood pushed back and his grin engaging, ran for the door to hold it.
“Thank you?” She couldn’t help the querying note.
As she went to step through, the car from the morning pulled up to the curb. From the back seat, Brody stepped out, and she finally saw a use for that massive cape.
He held it up, draping it to form an awning and said with a smile, “I told you I’d return.”
12
Despite her initial welcoming smile, Posie soon returned to her usual polite self. She sat as far away from Brody as possible, hands tucked in her lap, the image of propriety. It made a man want to do naughty things. What would happen if he slid across the seat and into her space?
She might very well jump out of the car.
But what if she was just waiting for him to make a move so she could melt in his arms? Damn him for thinking of her in that fashion. He couldn’t help himself. The more he saw her, the more he appreciated her quiet and commanding manner, and the more he—
Would do nothing. As her employer, he shouldn’t get involved. Especially given how closely they worked together.
What if he made a move and she rejected him? It would affect their dynamic at work. He’d have to move her to another department because he wasn’t sure if he could stand to see her every day and, worse, know that she would never want him. Might even start dating someone else.
Which smacked of jealousy. Fuck.
“I hear you had a visitor this afternoon.” Julio had told him all about the angel’s encounter with Posie. His friend had been bent over wheezing as he told Brody what happened.
“You should have seen his face when she basically shoved him out of your office. She is fucking amazing.”
“She is,” Brody had agreed.
Which was why the difficulty in finding her a proper match. No one was good enough for her. Not even Julio. It made him wonder about something Lucifer had said to him that afternoon over a game of golf—because he wasn’t busy enough already. Having a ton of work to do didn’t mean that he could say no when the Devil called and said, “Let’s play a round.”
The game wasn’t just about losing without making it obvious; it was a quasi-interrogation about Posie as well. Basically, why she wasn’t fucking anyone yet.
Before Brody could give lame excuses, the Devil said, “Why don’t you make a play for the girl?”
“Woman,” Brody corrected, lining up his leg with the carved ivory ball. “And it wouldn’t be correct. I am her employer.”
“Exactly. Always take advantage of your underlings,” Lucifer declared, giving him a shove just as he swung.
The ball veered into the sand pit and promptly got eaten. It was a given that Brody would lose, especially with the Devil cheating every chance he got.
“She’s made it clear she wants nothing personal with me.”
“Playing hard to get,” Lucifer surmised. “Excellent ploy. Especially because it’s working. Look at you, harder than petrified stone every time she comes around. Good thing you’ve got that robe. I should get one because when you tent, you really fucking tent.” The Devil leered and held out his hands indicating an impossible girth.
A reaper did not blush, but he did suddenly find his cloak swirling around his head despite a lack of breeze. “I am not interested in Ms. Ringwald.”
“Ah, the lies, you know how I love them.” Lucifer sighed, huffing a stream of smoke. “You know what’s even better than lies? You putting your sausage into her bun.”
“Sir!”
“Don’t fucking ‘sir,’ me. It’s obvious you have the hots for the girl. Otherwise, you could have paired her with so many candidates by now. So hop to it before she’s pushing up posies.”
“It’s daisies.”
“My version is cleverer given she is a human with a much shorter lifespan than you. Given her time is limited, you should give her the salami a few times, get it out of your system, and then find a minion she can make babies with. And before you say, ‘I’m not gonna fuck her”—Lucifer adopted a high pitch—“know that th
is is one lie that I am not appreciating. It’s not if you’re going to hook up but a matter of when. The sooner, the better. Tick. Tock.” The Devil tapped his wrist, and every single sandpit exploded. As the wriggling worms with mouths on both ends erupted form the ground, the Devil smiled. “Are you staying for dinner?”
Enough to make him forget for a moment only that the Devil was encouraging him to pair up with Posie. But of the reasons he shouldn’t…the biggest one was fear of rejection.
Coward. If he didn’t want her, then he should stop stalling and set her up with someone. He had all kinds of lieutenants. Suitable matches, except for Anthony. He preferred his partners more masculine.
Julio seemed rather impressed by her. Would Posie like him in return? Smile for him, that rare sunshine that made her glow? Would she let Julio put his hands on her?
I’ll slice his arms off…
Oh fuck. He might have a problem.
I’m jealous. And he didn’t want to see Posie with someone else.
I want her to be with me.
As the car pulled up to their apartment building, it appeared the rain had stopped and all the streetlights shone, illuminating everything in a soft, warm nimbus. For once the building didn’t appear dreary, but rather—
Oh shit. Brody dove out of the car, but he wasn’t in time to stop the person on the sidewalk from opening the door on Posie’s side.
A slick voice said, “Hello and forgive my abrupt appearance. You are Ms. Ringwald?”
“Who are you?”
Brody already knew and couldn’t help his reaction. His cloak crept over his shoulders to cover his head. He slammed shut the car door before she could remark on it. It put him standing tall enough to see the angel on the other side. A man with ridiculously intricate blond hair, a rugged face, and square body.
He cast a pleasant smile at Brody, winked, and then leaned over to introduce himself to Posie. “My name is Raphael, Ms. Ringwald, and I’m here to apologize for my colleague’s behavior earlier this afternoon.”
“And who’s going to apologize for yours?” she muttered. “Move away, please. You’re a stranger who is awfully close, and I don’t like it.”
Surprise straightened Raphael, and he shot a glance at Brody across the car.
Her reply had already brought a smirk to Brody’s lips, and he mouthed, “Ouch.”
For a second, anger flitted across Raphael’s face. It turned into a smirk that managed to look devilish and handsome.
Oddly enough, Posie didn’t seem impressed. She emerged from the car and took two paces away from Raphael, not at all dazzled by the blond man who so often was the ideal angel portrayed in art.
“Ms. Ringwald, if we could—”
She sliced a hand to shush him. “No, I am the one who gets to ask questions since you’re accosting me. How do you know where I live?”
“Heaven keeps tracks of all the souls on Earth.”
Her arms crossed, and her whole attitude screamed unimpressed. “That is not an acceptable answer. My address is not something that is available to the general public, meaning you used backdoor methods to access it.”
“I’m sorry if my methods of seeking you out were unorthodox.”
“This goes beyond unorthodox, and you know it. This is stalking.”
“What else could I have done to extend my sincerest—”
She sliced a hand through the air. “You know what you could have done? Sent me an email. Left a voicemail. Heck, you could have sent flowers to me with a note. Tomorrow. At the office. You know, the place where I work.”
“I didn’t feel this could wait.”
“Implying your friend’s rudeness was more important than my privacy. It’s not, by the way. I hate to break it to you, but you and your weird friend mean nothing to me. I really couldn’t care less if you both like to dress up and pretend you’re angels. It’s quite obvious, given your boorish attitudes, that you should have gone in the other direction. Maybe you can get those wings spray painted another color. Glue on some horns. You could probably use a few tough piercings, too. You know, to give you a more rugged appearance.”
Brody got a glimpse of the spunk that so impressed Julio. She was awesome, especially since her tone didn’t appear angry. But the disdain…it was quite eloquent.
Brody snickered.
“Are you implying—” Raphael began, but again, she cut him off.
“You are more devils than angels. And I am done dealing with you. I will tell you the same thing I told your friend. Make an appointment. During business hours. I’m currently off duty, so if you’ll excuse me.” She swept past them both, chin held high and full of attitude.
Raphael’s gaze turned from astonishment to admiration. The glow intensified one hundred times and oozed from every pore as Raphael breathed her name in a seductive purr. “Ms. Ringwald.”
She half turned as she pulled on the door to the building. “If you’re going to be a nuisance, I will call the cops.”
“Just one question, if you please, and then I promise to run all future correspondence through your place of employment until you give me permission to do otherwise.”
“What?” she huffed in clear exasperation.
“When you look at me, what do you see?”
“The person keeping me from my supper and a new rom-com I’ve been waiting for.”
“Do you see wings?”
She rolled her eyes. “Kind of hard to miss them. Good job on getting a bigger set than your friend’s.”
“Do you see anything else?” he asked, and Brody had to wonder what Raphael was trying to find out.
“The fiery halo is a tad much. Goodbye.” She entered the building.
Her last remark was stunning and funny as fuck. “I guess you were just told.”
“She sees me and still doesn’t believe in me. How does that happen?” Raphael asked.
It was Brody who knew the answer because he’d finally dug into her past. “From a young age, she told her parents what she could see. Her parents thought she was imagining things, so they took her to doctors, which led to pills. Lots and lots of pills. Eventually, she reached an age where she could control her own meds. She went off them, started seeing things, and became convinced it was just the cosplay culture she could see. People dressing up and acting as if it were normal.”
“She sees everyone as they are. How incredible. And in such a lovely package.”
“Pity angels aren’t allowed to date.” Brody couldn’t help a mocking grin.
The grin wiped when Raphael said, “Who said anything about dating her.”
13
The knock on her door wasn’t exactly unexpected. A peek showed Brody standing there, and she could just imagine what he’d say. Probably, “You’re fired.”
She might even deserve it. She’d been rude to that client this afternoon. And then to that Raphael person downstairs. Her defense that they’d started it might not go over well.
What was wrong with her? She’d always been the polite lady. The nice one. And then she got her stupid fortune read a few years ago.
“You’ll be in the arms of Death before you’re thirty-seven.”
A stupid statement from a fake psychic. It meant nothing. She didn’t believe in the supernatural. But then there were the other things the fortuneteller predicted that came true.
“They’ll come out with pumpkin spice cookie and eggnog cream-filled Oreos.”
Crazy, right? Until she’d seen a commercial for it.
“A new island will rise in the Atlantic by Newfoundland.”
Again, so unlikely. Until one morning, after a week of winds and fog on the North American east coast, the air cleared and a new isle sprinkled with ruins sat a mile offshore.
And now the most recent proof.
“You will meet an angel.”
She’d run into a pair today. How many more clues did she need before she admitted that perhaps the last prophecy would come true?
Her bi
rthday was in two weeks. She’d turn thirty-seven. If something were going to happen, it would be soon. But just in case it didn’t, she really should try and keep her job so she could continue to pay rent. And eat.
Time to face the music.
She opened the door. Brody’s cape swirled around his shoulders, and the hood appeared more of a cowl than usual, bunching up around his neck as if it wanted to hide his face. Not for the first time, she wondered about the fabric. It never seemed to sit still, the material always vibrating. A suitable outfit for a guy who pretended he was…
The sudden explosion of light bulbs in her head almost rocked her.
I’ll be in the arms of death. Could she have misinterpreted the prophecy? Was Brody supposed to be the arms it spoke of? Heck, it could be anyone at Grim Dating for that matter. They all dressed like Grim Reapers.
“Can I help you?” she asked.
For a second, he opened his mouth as if he’d speak. Then closed it.
The hesitation could mean only one thing. “You’re trying to tell me I’m fired.” She sighed. “I understand. I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”
“No, you are not fired. Why would you even think that?” he blurted out. “Watching you handle Raphael was actually the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen. If you ask me, I think you deserve a raise.”
“For insulting a potential client?”
“For putting him in his place. The rules forbid me from acting too plainly; therefore it was extremely enjoyable to watch.”
“Rules? Is he some kind of competitor?” It would explain a lot.
“In a sense, yes.” He shifted, his robe undulating as if agitated. Did he have a fan under there stirring the fabric?
“So I’m not in trouble?”
He shook his head.
“Or fired?” She wanted that clarified.
“No.”
“Thank you for letting me know. I guess I will see you at the office in the morning.” Making it clear she would make her way there without his aid. It was for the best.
He remained in the doorway, not moving.
“Was there something else?”
“Yes, actually. I realize we are in an awkward position. I am your employer. However, I feel I should mention that I am extremely attracted to you.”