The others trooped off in the hostess' wake as Merih stepped up to the register. "I'll have a jug of the darkest house beer you have and…how does the food work?"
The harassed-looking woman at the register eyed the queue behind them. "If you're on a company table, then it's twenty dollars a head for food, and drinks are extra," she said. "How many horses do you want in the sweep? Just one?"
"Sounds good to me," Merih replied, handing over his credit card.
The woman processed his payment and held out a basket full of folded paper slips. "Pick your horse," she said.
Merih dipped his hand into the basket, his nails scraping against the bottom, and pulled out a slip. "Red Cadeaux!" he announced, then frowned. "Never heard of it."
"And you, miss?" the woman asked, looking expectantly at Mel.
"Oh, just a glass of your lightest wheat beer – the Weihenstephaner, please. I'm on the same corporate table and…I need a horse, right?"
"You don't have to," Merih jumped in, looking worried. "It's not like you need to gamble if you don't want to."
"You can't enjoy the Melbourne Cup properly without one," the woman said, giving Merih a dirty look. "It's dull if you're not screaming for your horse for that last lap of the race."
Mel laughed. "I'll take the lunch, the beer and the horse, please. I wouldn't want to miss an opportunity to do a bit of screaming." Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Merih blush as red as the Beck's shield on the wall behind him. She handed over her money.
"I hope you pick a winner, then," the woman said, offering the basket.
Mel shrugged. "Green Moon will win, but it's about enjoying the race, so I'll take…" She selected a slip. "…Lights of Heaven. That's a well-named horse for me."
"You never know. It's the Melbourne Cup. Any horse could win," the woman said.
Mel just smiled and followed Merih to the crowded table where their colleagues sat, already munching on the first round of garlic bread.
The two remaining free places at the table were right beside the window. One of the chairs was bathed in the bright, near-noon sun. Merih sat in the shaded one as Mel reached for the other, only to recoil the moment her fingers touched it: the surface of the metal chair was hot enough to fry her lunch on.
Someone sniggered, but Mel heard Merih say, "We should ask for another chair. Mel shouldn't have to…"
"I'll be fine," Mel cut in. She nudged the chair away from the table with her foot, careful to only touch the scorching metal with her shoe. She reached for the jug of iced water and poured it carefully over the chair, making sure she didn't wet her colleagues. Steam rose and a few chunks of ice clattered to the concrete floor, but she didn't flinch until the jug was empty. She reached for the other jug and did the same. Nine demons watched in silence as the puddle on the floor started to evaporate.
Reaching for the last slice of garlic bread, she whipped the cloth out of the basket beneath and used it to dry her much-cooled chair. Crunching into the crust, she smiled as she sat down. A wide-eyed waiter behind her set her beer on the table with shaking hands and she thanked him. He took the empty jugs from her and promised to refill them.
A platter of tempura prawns arrived at the table, followed by another with a tepee of prosciutto-wrapped asparagus spears, and the distracted demons decided it was safe to start talking again.
Mel ate without speaking, occasionally sipping her beer, as she listened to Lili and the girl beside her discussing some book they'd been reading. It seemed to involve some particularly violent sex and a man called Quincy.
She couldn't help herself. "I'm sorry…a violent, sadistic villain called Quincy? With a name like that, I imagine he has a fair bit to be angry about."
"Have you read the Monsters in the Dark series?" Lili asked, surprised.
"No," Mel admitted. "It sounds a bit dark for me, to be honest."
Lili turned away to talk to the man on her other side.
"So you're the angel," the girl beside Mel said. "I never thought I'd see one of your kind at a Melbourne Cup lunch. I mean – isn't gambling a sin to you? Like drinking…and generally enjoying yourself? Or even talking to the likes of us?"
Mel smiled gently. "The rest of the office were going – it seemed rude not to. And Merih told me you needed the numbers to have a chance at better coffee in the office. I wanted to help. I'm perfectly happy to drink and enjoy myself. I even have a horse in the sweep." She held up the little slip of paper.
"Then you're already halfway to being one of the CEO's little office whores. I swear he has a collection of temps just like you that he's corrupted so quickly you'd think they'd never seen a man before. Has he broken you in over his desk yet?" The girl gave a knowing grin at Mel's shock. "What, did you think you were the first?"
"Ana, leave Mel alone," Merih interjected. "If Luce finds out you've been spreading rumours, it'll be you over that desk and you know it."
Ana gave a disgusted sniff and lurched to her feet, headed for the counter and what Mel suspected would be another drink.
"Don't listen to her, Mel," Merih continued. "Luce does have a reputation for seducing all the new office temps – human and angel – but you're different to them. Just don't accept any meetings alone in his office with him and you should be fine." He became very interested in the plate of spring rolls that appeared in front of him as Lili glared in his direction across Ana's empty seat.
"It's all right," Mel said softly as Ana returned, bearing a jug of beer and a glass that she thumped down on the table. "He's already made an attempt."
"Ah Hell, Mel, I didn't realise. I'm sorry…"
Mel shrugged. "I turned him down. I also suggested he might want to clean his desk occasionally, given all the action it's seen."
Merih exploded in laughter, spraying beer across the table. It missed Mel but splattered in Lili's face, sending her eyeliner running. Lili jumped to her feet, beer and murder in her eyes.
"I believe I'll get another drink. Would anyone else like one?" Mel asked the table in general.
The others got up to dig through their pockets for cash, neatly boxing Lili in at her seat and out of reach of Merih. Mel heard his muttered thanks before she headed up to the counter, trying to remember everyone's beer preferences. She decided to stick to water. Let the demons get drunk – she had work to do when she returned to the office.
Seventeen
The whole café fell silent. Mel couldn't hear the crunch of a single chip.
"Aaaand…they're off!" the race caller shouted.
Twenty-four horses jumped from their starting stalls on the large-screen TVs, their thundering hooves the only sound inside the café.
The race caller identified the horses and their relative positions as the animals galloped their riders round the first lap of Flemington Racecourse.
That's when the shouting started, rising in a crescendo as the jockeys whipped their horses down the final straight. It wasn't just the demons, either – every single human in the café seemed to be shrieking their support for their respective horse, though the beasts on the other side of the country certainly couldn't hear them.
Mel watched with satisfaction as Green Moon did, indeed, cross the finish line first, followed by three horses with odd names that were much harder to remember. None of these horses were on her or Merih's slips.
Or any other demon's, oddly enough. The demons flung their slips on the table, with varying combinations of anger, disappointment and disgust. She wondered why they bothered gambling at all – after all, demons' bad luck was legendary.
The sweep winners approached the counter to claim their prizes. One was a man who'd had to reject a promotion because his wife had recently given birth to twins and suffered from crippling postnatal depression. Another was a girl who sent all her spare money home to her family in Indonesia, in the hope that her little sister could come and visit sometime soon. The third winner seemed to live a charmed life, but her boss had excused himself early to finalise the paperw
ork to make her position redundant – a fate she wasn't yet aware of, but she would be by the end of the day. Mel sighed – such was the way of the world, especially in times like these.
The hostess at the counter picked up a handbell and rang it, sending the café silent again. "We'll be drawing the raffle prizes, too. Last chance to buy a ticket – the proceeds go to the winter blanket appeal for the city's homeless." She gestured at the waitstaff who were waving ticket books.
Mel jumped to her feet. "One for me, please." Nine demons stared at her as a waiter wove through the tables to take her money. It wasn't that she wanted or needed any of the raffle prizes, whatever those might be. She couldn't refuse charity – nor a request for help – and this was both. She ignored the demonic scrutiny as she traded her money for a ticket. Number 888, apparently.
The hostess cleared her throat. "Now, everyone on one of the corporate tables, I'm going to ask you to check beneath you. Taped to the bottom of your chair are your free tickets into the draw."
Mel realised that none of the demons had bought a ticket – all they had were the free ones that were included as part of their meal. No, demons definitely didn't believe in charity.
She reached under her seat for hers and almost laughed when she saw the ticket number. Someone sure had a sense of humour up there.
The first half-dozen prizes were coffee, beer and meal vouchers, which went to various human patrons.
"Next up are two coffee pod machines," the hostess announced, as a grinning waiter carried them forward like he was the proud father of twins. She drew out the first ticket. "Four five seven!"
Mel and the increasingly irritated demons watched as first one, then the other coffee maker were won by humans. It definitely wasn't the demons' day. Not only were they damned, but they were doomed to drink disgusting coffee while they were on Earth.
"And one last prize that only came in yesterday. When our coffee supplier heard what we were giving away, he said he'd provide another prize for one lucky winner who appreciated real coffee. So we'll draw one more ticket for an office coffee maker – the same model we use here – and the first year's supply of coffee beans, all provided by our sales rep." The hostess coughed. "For those of you who don't win, we have some brochures for you to take back to your office, detailing prices and packages for machines and coffee supply…"
The demons perked up considerably at this. One of them muttered in Latin, the words too fast for Mel to make out.
"The winning ticket is…number six six six!"
Someone laughed.
Mel's colleagues looked feverishly through the tickets on the table. Gerry lifted the salt shaker, muttering, "Has to be one of us. It has to be…" – looking for a missing ticket that definitely wasn't there.
"Redraw!" a man seated near the door bellowed. The cry was taken up by several others.
Someone definitely had a strange sense of humour, Mel decided. But not even demons deserved to drink the sewage sludge back at the office and she'd be damned before she'd deny them some hope in their miserable lives. She rose. "It's mine." Holding up the ticket that had been taped to the underside of her Hell-hot chair, the angel calmly made her way to the hostess and handed it over.
"Where do you work?" the hostess asked. "I need the office address for the supplier, as he'll deliver your fresh coffee beans weekly – I only have a week's worth here to go with the machine." She gestured at the huge box that was definitely more than Mel could carry.
"I work for the HELL Corporation," Mel replied, writing down the address.
The hostess snorted. "You'll need all the perks you can get, working in that Hell-hole. I've heard stories…well, at least you'll have decent coffee for when you're forced to work late. I've heard it happens a lot over there."
"Not to me," Mel said cheerfully. "Thank you, though. I think my colleagues will appreciate it when the shock wears off." It was hard to ignore nine demons staring at you, she mused.
"Get a couple of the blokes to help you carry it, then, and another couple to grab the coffee. There's a lot and it's heavy," the woman cautioned.
Mel smiled, nodded and thanked her again, before returning to the table.
Merih clapped hard. "Way to go, Mel!"
Slowly, the others joined in with half-hearted applause.
"I can't carry it back to the office myself," she admitted. "Would some of you be willing to help?"
She was answered by demonic silence.
Mel shrugged. "I guess I could ask if the staff here have a trolley I could borrow. I don't think it'll fit in the kitchen, though. Do you think we might be able to set it up on a table in the lunchroom?"
"You mean you're bringing that thing to our office and not the agency?" Lili blurted out.
Mel laughed. "Of course. I work in your office, not the agency office. I'd say your need is greater, too, and you all did invite me along today…"
Two demons whose names Mel didn't know stood up and marched to the counter. Between them, they lifted the coffee machine. "Are you ready to go?" one asked her.
Mel nodded. "There's the coffee, too…"
Merih swung one big bag of coffee beans into Gerry's arms and hefted the other in his own. "At your service, Mel. We'll have to work out how much we owe you for this."
Mel waved the offer away. "I can't drink all this coffee on my own and it'd be a shame not to share it. You don't need to."
"I'll arrange it with everyone else in the office. We'll call it the coffee club. We'd pay one of our own and just because you're not a demon, doesn't mean you don't deserve…"
One of the machine-toting demons cut in: "Oi, this is heavy, mate. If you're going to stand around and talk, you can carry the coffee machine."
"Right. Right," Merih replied, as he led the procession back to the sixth floor of the HELL Corporation building.
Eighteen
In front of an audience of what seemed like half the office, Mel broke the coffee machine out of the box and attempted to assemble it. It was easier than she'd expected, but the LCD screen wasn't lighting up. It took ten minutes before she realised that no one had plugged it in yet and the dearth of helpful volunteers seemed to be standard procedure in HELL.
"There's a power point under this table. Here, I'll hook it up and we can try that again," Mel said, dropping to her knees to crawl under the furniture. Mel heard the scrape of shoes on carpet and wondered why the demons behind her were moving around. She was wearing pants today, so she knew they weren't jockeying for a better view of her underwear.
"So who do I have to whip to get some work done around here?" Mel heard Luce's voice.
She couldn't reach the socket yet. It was half-hidden under a cabinet beside the table. Scooting along the carpet, her fingers made contact with the dusty power point and she plugged the machine in.
"You won the coffee machine at the Cup lunch? It's about time we had some decent coffee around here. Hell, for that, you can all have the afternoon off."
Nobody moved except Mel, whose fingers scrabbled for the switch to turn the power on. There was so much dust behind the cabinet – or were those cobwebs? It looked like Luce's desk wasn't the only thing in the office that the cleaning staff didn't have time for.
"Who won it, anyway? I'll offer a blowjob to the man, if he makes me the first coffee with that thing."
Stunned silence as Mel covered her mouth with a dusty hand to stop herself from exploding into laughter. She decided to get out from under the table before things got out of hand. No one would believe Luce had offered his employees…much less her…
Mel emerged from under the table, but the demons in the room screened her from Luce's sight, even as she stood up.
"Not from me, personally, of course. You can have your pick of the office girls. The new one's pretty and has quite a clever mouth on her, too. In fact, I can vouch for her myself."
She couldn't help it any more. Luce was digging a hole so deep, he'd hit Hell soon if she didn't stop him. Her laughter
bubbled up and out, breaking the demonic silence. "That would be me."
Demons shuffled aside, letting Mel see Luce's surprised expression. He recovered quickly. "Perfect timing. Now, who's going to turn down this lovely lady's services? All you have to do is make me a coffee…"
Mel cleared her throat. "Actually, I don't know how." She glanced around, wondering who had the manual for the machine.
Luce laughed. "Nothing to it! Just drop to your knees, open your mouth, relax your throat and drink down what comes."
Nineteen
"I think there's a bit more to making a coffee on this machine. Merih, can you please pass me the manual? I'll need a cup, too." Mel accepted the booklet and one of the dozen proffered cups with a smile of thanks. "How do you take your coffee, Luce? Or should I guess? I would say…an espresso. Or a double, given the size of the cup. Just the bitter brew, with no milk, cream or sugar."
Luce's smile was as tight and uncomfortable as a brand-new pair of jeans that was a size too small, but his tone still sounded confident. "That sounds about right."
Mel glanced at the manual, keying in his selection. The coffee machine whirred as it started making his brew. Mel kept her eyes carefully on the filling cup as she heard the shuffle of moving feet behind her once more. She spun on the spot with the hot drink in her hands, holding it out to Luce. "The first cup. Enjoy." Her smile was sincere.
He took it from her and slurped at the contents. The demons who hadn't already made their escape decided as one that this was the best time to do so.
Mel held her ground, not lowering her lips from their smile. She didn't laugh when she saw the scrawled text on the side of the mug serendipity had bestowed on Luce – 'SEXY DEVIL', it said. Sad, frustrated, soon to be embarrassed devil would have been more appropriate, but pity stayed her tongue from saying so. Instead, she said, "How's the coffee? I've never used such a complicated machine before. I'm hoping someone who has more experience can show me how to use it."
Luce carefully set his cup down. He glanced around, checking to make sure they really were alone before he spoke in a very low voice. "You're the one who won the coffee machine, aren't you?" Mel nodded once. "Why did you bring it here, instead of the agency where you work? Angels always look after angels first." He sounded bitter.
Welcome to Hell Box Set: Paranormal Romantic Comedy Page 6