“What’s it like working for the scariest man in town?” Honey asks as soon as we’re alone.
“A little boring. Hayes won’t let me do much. I figure he’s worried I’ll quit. Once I don’t, I hope he gives me more to do.”
“Is he horrible?”
“No. He yells a lot, but mostly at other people, so I don’t care.”
“I’ve heard a lot of things about him.”
“Like what?”
“That he kills people for pissing him off. That he owns half of the businesses in White Horse. That he will see a woman and order her to sleep with him. If she doesn’t, something bad happens to her family.”
I roll my eyes. “Who told you all that?”
“People talk.”
“People are morons,” I say, realizing I sound like Hayes. “I don’t doubt he breaks rules and laws and does what he wants, but he’s not a monster.”
“You should be careful.”
“No.”
“No?”
“Life is about taking chances and expecting most of them to end up in the dumper. I like my job, and I find Hayes interesting.”
“He is attractive. Rough, if you like that sort of thing.”
Something about her tone makes me curious. “Do you like rough?”
“I married Andrew.”
Arching my eyebrow, I say, “Yes, you did, but that’s not what I asked.”
Honey shrugs, but I know she’s thinking of someone in particular that ain’t Andrew.
“I admit I’m curious about Hayes,” I say, allowing her to weasel out of admitting who she likes. “By curious, I mean freakishly attracted to him. I want to keep my job, so I plan to behave. Not all risks are worth it.”
A few minutes pass while I watch the kids play and Honey stares at her uneaten fries.
“I’m not a bad mother,” Honey says, but her words sound like a question.
“No, you’re not.”
“It’s Andrew’s rules about disciplining them.”
“I understand.”
“But you don’t like him.”
“Have I ever pretended otherwise?”
Honey narrows her eyes. I catch a hint of her temper hiding beneath her broken-down-woman mojo. “No. You’d still be at the house if you could pretend.”
“I like the hotel better.”
“If you can see the good in Hayes then you should know Andrew’s not a monster either.”
Focusing on my sister, I stare into her eyes and again see our mother looking back at me.
“You want me to lie and say he’s a good husband and father. Not going to happen. I think he’s a thin-skinned wuss who takes his fucking issues out on you. You know that’s what I think. So you either expect me to lie, or you're looking for a way out with him and think I’ll give it to you. Which is it?”
Honey’s been so beaten down these last years that she doesn’t even look hurt by my words. She only stares at me and considers what I said.
“I can’t leave him.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t have the money to take care of four kids.”
“He’ll pay child support.”
“I can’t raise them on my own.”
“How much does he do now? I mean really? You say he is in charge of their discipline, but they’re wild when he’s home too.”
“They’re not bad kids.”
I’m irritated by her weakness. Honey’s path is as doomed as our mother’s. “No, they’re wild,” I say. “They need you to be the grownup, not their maid and cook.”
“It’s not easy to walk away and be alone.”
“I raised the twins by myself. Toby didn’t want them. His family did help financially, but I never got greedy. They babysat occasionally, but I was the one in the trenches every day with two kids who ganged up on me. The twins aren’t saints, and I’m not super mom. They’re sneaky and plot against me when they want something. It’s my job to be smarter than them. Outwitting children isn’t difficult, but it takes commitment and energy. If you’re spending all your time trying not to piss off Andrew, you don’t have much energy left for the kids. That’s how Andrew likes it.”
“He wants me to do more, not less.”
Sighing, I wonder if she’s really so blind or simply wants me to tell her what she already knows. “That’s what he says, but he knows if you were stronger and more confident you’d kick his ass to the curb. You’re still young enough to start over. He’ll keep you down until you feel life’s passed you by. That’s what men like Andrew do. He’s not the kind of guy who beats you down in an obvious way. He does it slowly, every day until you begin doing it for him. You tell yourself you can’t do better. You say you can’t be on your own. You believe his lies because you’ve heard them for too long.”
Honey wraps her arms around her body, and I know I should come at her with more finesse. She’s been bossed around for a long time, and I’m bossing her around now. I can’t edit myself. Not when an asshole like Andrew is involved. I know how losers like him destroy people in my family. We’re asshole magnets. The only way to survive is to call an asshole an asshole and face life alone rather than as someone’s bitch.
“You think about it,” I say when she remains quiet. “If you need help, I’m here. If you need money, I have some saved up. If you make any cash from babysitting, I’d suggest you hide it from Andrew and keep it for the day when you’re sick of his shit. A guy like him will empty out your bank accounts as soon as he knows you might walk. He’ll want you desperate. That’s what I think anyway. Take it as you will.”
Honey nods and I leave her to think. At the play area, I find the twins whispering. They see me and smile. If I do nothing else for them in life, I’ll raise them prepared to face life alone rather than settling for losers. With them having each other, maybe they’ll be better suited for that choice than Honey and her kids.
SIX - HAYES
I storm into the office. Too many fucking stupid people in the world and they’re all conspiring to drive me to an early grave. I have enemies surrounding me, and my allies are fucking morons.
Sitting at a cleared off table, I find a boy and girl writing with pencils in math workbooks. The children stare at me, and I stare back at them. When they don’t look away, I glare hard at Candy’s offspring.
“Why are you here?” I ask.
“Mom has work to do,” the girl says.
“Where is Candy?”
“In the bathroom.”
I take a step closer and really turn on the scary glare. The boy decides he’s had enough and focuses on his school crap. A dark haired version of Candy, the girl won’t relent. She narrows her brown eyes at me, and I swear the little bitch is trying to intimidate me.
“Stop fucking looking at me,” I growl.
“Stop looking at me,” she growls back.
Admiring her guts, I smile. “Nicely done.”
The girl isn’t sure if I’m tricking her, so she keeps glaring. Candy appears from the bathroom and looks startled to see me.
“I didn’t say you could bring them here,” I growl at her.
Without missing a beat, Candy replies, “You didn’t stay I couldn’t.”
“No, I didn’t. I fucked up. Now get them out of here.”
“I’m waiting for a phone call,” she says, sitting at her desk. “I can’t leave unless you’re planning to stay in the office and answer the phone yourself.”
“Make them leave and you stay.”
“That’s a really great plan but no.”
“Candy, we need to have a conversation about boundaries and work expectations.”
“Right now? I’m pretty busy currently.” Candy leans back in her chair and takes a nail file to her pinkie finger. “How did your meeting go?”
“Like shit.”
“People are stupid. What can you do?”
Frowning, I don’t like how her words amuse me. Candy still makes me uneasy. I want to fuck her, but she’s
got kids, and I don’t like kids. I’ve hated all my assistants, but I don’t hate Candy. It might be possible to learn not to hate her kids too.
“What are their names?” I ask.
“Chipper and Cricket.”
“That’s right. I remember you saying they have stupid names.”
The twins look at me and then their mother. She waves her hand as if telling them to ignore me. They return to their work.
“Their father picked their names.”
“You should have insisted on better names.”
“Having unique names makes us unique. Wouldn’t you agree, Angus?” she asks, emphasizing my name.
I swear her daughter snickers and sounds exactly like her mother. I should hate knowing there are two of them in the world, but I don’t. The world is a stupid place full of morons. Having more than one of Candy makes me hopeful for humankind.
“Come to my office.”
Candy follows me immediately. I know she thinks I’ll put my foot down about having the kids in the office. She’s ready for my rage, so I give her something else. She isn’t the only sneaky person in the room.
“Have you found a place to live yet?”
“No. I’m still looking around. I don’t know dick about White Horse.”
I open my address book and find a number for her. After writing it on a slip of paper, I hand her the information.
“This realtor handles my rental properties. I have a few empty places on the north side. That’s where you’ll want to live if you want your weird kids going to good schools. The east side has good schools too, but the people there are arrogant fuckers. You won’t fit in as a single mom with a stripper name. The south is too close to Hickory Creek, and that place is a shithole. The west side is too close to Common Bend, and the schools are full of junkies’ kids.”
Candy looks over the number and then nods. Her gaze is soft and appreciative. I drink in her attention and feel like a junkie myself.
“You can pick whatever empty house I have available.”
“What’s the rent like?” she asks, still watching me with a warm expression.
I think about kissing her. If my lips taste hers, I know I’ll devour her whole. Based on her expression, I don’t think she’d stop me. Then I remember her kids in the next fucking room and realize I’m going home alone again tonight.
“No rent,” I say, finally answering her. “Just get your kids into a real school, so they don’t end up being fucking morons like most people in this town.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
Sitting in my chair, I lean back and frown at her. “I don’t have to do much of fucking anything.”
“No, but that’s because you’re scary and rich. This gesture is you being nice. You don’t need to do that.”
“I went through a shitfuck of assistants before I ended up with those temp broads. If giving you a rental house keeps you happy and I don’t need to learn a new moron’s name, it’s no skin off my ass.”
Candy smiles at me, but the warmth in her eyes is gone. She’s in smartass mode again.
“This is like the end of one of those Scrooge movies where the mean man gets all sweet and syrupy about humanity.”
“Go away,” I say, but I’m fucking smiling because her teasing doesn’t piss me off the way most things do.
Candy bats her eyes at me and then spins around and leaves the room. I hear her rounding up the twins and checking the backdoors. Soon her car starts and she disappears down the road toward the hotel she currently calls home. I imagine her moving into a house and getting settled into White Horse. Keeping Candy happy means making me happy and me being happy is all that really matters in life.
SEVEN - CANDY
Hayes’s realtor Janice shows us three houses on the north side of White Horse before we arrive at the red brick box-style home. I don’t think much of the flat front exterior. Despite its lack of hominess, the place feels safe. Strong, unassuming, ready to withstand chaos. Sort of like Hayes’s office.
When we left the hotel this morning, the twins were thrilled to look for a house. Now they’re tired and bored. The first house interested them, but the yard was tiny, and Chipper said the bedrooms smelled evil. When Cricket asked what evil smelled like, he said her butt. Things went downhill from there.
By the time we see the brick box, they’re ready to live anywhere.
“Nothing feels like home,” Chipper whines after the third house.
I don’t know what home feels like. Since I left home at eighteen, I’ve lived in apartments and the Eddison family’s guest house. I don’t know what I’m looking for in this rental besides three bedrooms, a decent backyard, and enough space in the house for us not to step on each other. My standards are low, yet I still can’t find anything that fits until we drive up to the brick box.
The inside of the house is painted a sunny, pale yellow. The floors alternate between plush carpet and shiny wood. Something about the house reminds me of Hayes. Not the yellow, of course, but the place’s no-nonsense flow. The tall ceilings remind me of him too. The house isn’t fancy but has good bones. Like with Hayes, I’m attracted to something at the house’s core.
“I like it,” I tell Chipper and Cricket while we stand upstairs.
“It feels like a home,” Chipper says.
“The bedrooms are small,” Cricket mumbles and then adds, “We’re used to sharing a room. Having two will be good.”
“Do you like it, though?” I ask. “We don’t have to move here or anywhere until you guys are happy.”
I feel guilty again for taking them away from Cincinnati. They lost their school, friends, and grandparents. I worried about them turning soft from that plush life, and made the decision to ditch the drama Toby’s new wife created. It was my call, but the kids have to live with the consequences.
“I like this house,” Chipper says, walking into a bedroom. “This is mine.”
Cricket runs to the second smaller bedroom. “Mine has a bigger window.”
“Mine has a bigger closet!” Chipper yells.
Smiling, I have my answer. Downstairs, I talk with Janice.
“Hayes made clear you can have whatever house you wanted. He told me to help you with moving too.”
“I don’t have much to move. We lived in a furnished house back in Cincinnati. Where’s a good place to buy furniture?”
“Mister Hayes owns Rickman’s Furniture. I’m sure you’ll get a good deal there.”
Janice’s tone makes me wonder if she thinks Hayes and I are playing hip gymnastics. She likely views me as his assistant in name only. If she works harder and helps more, I’m cool with this misperception. I learned long ago not to give a flying fuck what strangers thought about me. Hell, I only mildly care what my friends think. Life is too short to stress others’ opinions.
EIGHT - HAYES
Who in the fuck have I hired? Candy is a huge pain in the ass yet a great assistant. The problem is she’s a good looking chick. Scratch that. She’s fucking gorgeous, but I’ve seen plenty of gorgeous women who might even be better looking than Candy. None of them got under my skin. Not a single fucking one of them ever made me wonder about their soft hair.
Candy is fun to look at with her tall, athletic build. Her blonde hair hangs loosely down her back, and I find myself wondering what it looks like up in a ponytail. My obsessed brain wants to see her neck bare. She’s been my assistant for three days, and I’m already a dog in heat.
I feel her in the next room. Fucking feel her breathing. I can close my eyes and sense her on my skin. I hate how Candy toys with me without even her knowing it. What in the fuck will happen if she ever figures out what she can do to me?
I have shit to do today. Now I have a competent assistant so I should be working more. Not me, though. Not with Candy in the next damn room.
Breaking pencils keeps me from standing up and checking on her every ten minutes. An hour later, I’m out of damn pencils, and I’m forced to ask her
to bring me more. Breaking pencils isn’t a long-term fucking plan.
I should fuck her and be done with it. That’s what my problem is, and I know how to fix it. Give my dick what it wants so I can fucking think straight.
If I fuck her, she’ll think we’re an item. Women always think that shit five seconds after a man fucks them. Only a whore is safe to fuck without worrying about strings attached.
Candy might be capable of remaining rational after I fuck her. Or she might want something from me. Or she might quit, and I’ll end up with those crying temps. I’m sick of listening to women cry. Candy never cries. When I yelled at her yesterday for misplacing a file, she only smiled and said she would do better. I realized later I put the file in the wrong place. I also realized she fucking knew it was me who fucked up. Candy shrugged it off. No doubt she’s smart and tough enough to let me fuck her and then go back to work.
What if I fuck her, and she remains a good employee but decides to date a guy? An asshole sharing my pussy isn’t acceptable.
Does she already have a man in White Horse?
Who is he?
I’ll find out and scare him off.
And if he doesn’t scare?
I’ll beat him with a bat.
I’ll take an ax and chop him into tiny pieces.
No, drag him behind my truck until he’s mush.
If any man in White Horse touches Candy besides me, I’ll beat him until he’s half dead. Then I’ll let him get medical treatment and heal up, so I can beat him to death for real.
By the time I walk out to where Candy plays a computer game, I’m ready to hunt someone down and kill them.
“What are you doing?”
Candy doesn’t even look at me. “My kids like Minecraft. I’m trying to care about the game.”
“You’re at work.”
“Yes, but I have nothing to do,” Candy says and then glances over her shoulder at me. “Too bad you don’t have boxes full of crap I could clean up and organize.”
My hand reaches out to touch her hair before I regain control of myself. Candy notices but only turns back to the computer screen.
“How long would it take you?” I ask, walking around the desk, so she’s forced to look at me.
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