Pale Stranger, New Adult Romance (PALE Series)

by Mac Flynn

CHAPTER 3

  I didn't handle it; the trip back took an hour longer, and by the time I shuffled into my dreary apartment it was past ten. The peeling wallpaper and cockroaches welcomed me home, and I wondered if I'd been thinking when I refused his offer to stay at that fancy, albeit creepy, house.

  "Too late now..." I muttered to myself.

  I plopped down in my dusty old recliner and dialed the phone number to the diner to call in my vacation for the next week. Sheila answered. "Dan's Delicious Diner. How can I help you?"

  I don't know how Dan hadn't been sued for false advertising; maybe he'd invited his critics over for some of his Lasagna Surprise and murdered them that way. "Hi, Sheila, it's Trixie. How did everything go today?"

  I pulled my ear away from the phone when she let out a squeal of joy. "Trixie! You're alive! Dracula didn't kill you!"

  I risked "No, I'm a few pints less than before I went but I'm healthy otherwise," I replied. I rolled my eyes when there was a gasp on the other line. "I'm joking, Sheila. Besides the phone, is the rest of the diner still standing?"

  She put on her best pouting voice. "It's all fine. The boss wouldn't let me handle the shift, so Denise is in charge of the diner," she told me. The diner was saved.

  "I want you to tell the boss that I'm taking a vacation for a week starting tomorrow."

  "Tomorrow? I don't think the boss will allow that, Trix. That's awful short notice," Sheila worriedly replied.

  I chuckled. "He owes me enough overtime pay that I don't think he's going to complain."

  "But what are you going to do for a-" Sheila let out a gasp. "You're not taking him up on that offer he made you, are you? Please don't do it!"

  "Sheila, you don't even know what I'm doing," I countered. "All I'm going to do is be his personal secretary for a week. If things don't work out I'll go straight back to the diner."

  "You promise?" she choked out.

  "I promise, and I'll come check up on you a few of the days to make sure the diner isn't burnt down," I laughed.

  "Hardy-har-har. I'll have you know I haven't done anything-" there was a sudden crash in the background and screaming. "Um, I gotta go."

  I slapped my face. "Before you go tell me if somebody is dead."

  "Um, no, but I have to go call the hospital. Bye." The line went dead; I hoped nobody else did.

  I sighed and hung my arms over the side of the chair while my head leaned back so I could look up at the ceiling. The ceiling was so badly water-stained it could've been mistaken for a Rorschach ink blot test. I traced out what I was thinking about through those little blots and realized I'd drawn a picture of Benson. A pair of deep stains stood in for his glacier-river blue eyes, and the rest of the pasty ceiling was a good mimic of his own skin. I sighed and dragged my hand over my face. The last twenty-four hours had been the strangest in my life, but I could see how the next week would beat that record.

  Now I had to call my mom. I needed to comfortably lay down for this one, so I went into my room, tossed the card with his address on my dresser, and flopped down on the bed. I hardly noticed when the card slipped into my underwear drawer as I dialed and she picked up after the first ring. "Hey mom, I'm alive."

  "You don't sound alive," she countered.

  "I'm just tired." I glanced over at my kitchen table and saw a stack of homework waiting for me. "But I've got a temp job with the guy that might turn into something permanent."

  "How's the pay?" My mom was shrewd with these things; she could haggle an elephant out of its trunk.

  "Really good." I wish I knew exactly how good, and I recalled we hadn't mentioned anything about money for this experiment.

  "And...and what do you have to do?" Mom always had a funny sense of priorities; money first and work later.

  "Not anything your dirty mind is thinking of," I told her. "It's just some secretary work. You know, making phone calls and filing. Nothing sexual in any way unless you count licking the envelopes."

  "And you think this is legitimate? He's not trying to get at you for, well,-"

  "-for immoral purposes?" I finished for her. "Nope. He just seems kind of lonely."

  Mom sighed. "Well, if anyone can bring comfort to another person other than their own mother that would be you."

  I smiled. "I'll be all right, I promise. It's not like I'm going to fall in love with him or anything."