Super Zero

by Rhonda Stapleton

  Super Zero

  By Rhonda Stapleton

  Kindle Edition Copyright © 2011 by Rhonda Stapleton

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  Chapter 1

  “I’m not giving her this.” I stared in horror at the inscription on the back of the huge diamond tennis bracelet, the curvy, flowing writing a mix of cheeseball sentimentality and ownership.

  For B, My Love Shack(le) Baby.

  B for Britney, who just so happens to be my cousin…and the current secret fling of my married boss Mason.

  How could things get any worse?

  “Give it to her, Jenna.” Mason calmly shuffled through the teetering pile of paperwork on his large mahogany desk. He puffed out his chest, and I could see an outline of the red M on the black uniform (God help you if Mason overheard you calling it a costume), carefully tucked away beneath his white dress shirt.

  M for The Machine, which Mason Wallings, mild-mannered businessman and CEO of MetalCo, became many years ago after a weird accident on tour in a local auto factory. It was speculated by many of the local newspapers that Mason had more mechanical body parts than natural. And, of course, people throughout the years have wondered which parts were metal, and which weren’t.

  If the rumors were true—and given his present to my cousin, it sure seemed that way—there were probably plenty of women in a position to comment on all of The Machine’s parts, including those “private” ones he couldn’t seem to keep tucked away.

  I glanced away from Mason’s chest and fought the urge to roll my eyes. Whenever he got irritated with me questioning his authority, he liked to remind me oh-so subtly of his superhero status, either by doing something with his superhuman strength, or flashing his costume—er, uniform.

  Unfortunately for him, Mason wasn’t the sexiest superhero anymore. His black hair, religiously dyed every six weeks to prevent those pesky grays from slipping through (I should know, because I bought the hair color for him—510B Onyx), was slicked back against his head, showing an increasingly receding hairline.

  I sighed and plunked the bracelet back in its velvety blue case, pocketing the box. “I can’t believe you put me in this position. I’m supposed to be your shopper, not aid in your illicit affairs.”

  Besides, I wouldn’t have picked out gifts like this in the first place. There was something to be said for more understated presents that actually had heart, not just reflected dollar signs.

  Britney, however, would be thrilled with the offering. Of course, she had as much brains as a box of hair, but what could I do about it?

  Mason glanced up at me. The look on my face must have been odd, because he chuckled, shaking his head. From behind his desk, he dug into a drawer and grabbed another velvet blue jewelry box, handing it to me. “It’s just a present. But here. This should help.”

  I opened it. Another bracelet, exactly the same. I flipped it over.

  Darling R, just a small token of love. M

  Small—right. One of those diamonds alone probably cost more than my car. Well, at least he took care of things all around. His wife Rowena, the second most powerful superhero in the Midwest, would certainly be pleased with the bracelet. Lord knows the woman has more bling than a rapper. Of course, if you have a high-maintenance lady like that, you’d better throw sparkly trinkets at her to keep her happy.

  Rowena’s known better by her alter ego, Rapida. Goofy name, scary woman—she can move like no one’s business. I’ve never seen anyone dart around as fast as she does. She also has these razor-sharp fingernails that grow fast, hacking and slashing their way through enemies.

  She and Mason make a formidable team, which is why they head up the Midwest branch of the League of Heroes. The best of the best. Even my sister Amy, a “lesser” superhero who can set fires with just her mind, envies Rowena’s talents.

  Hell, I just wished I could do anything, other than get entrenched in stupid affairs like this that detract from the real work that needed to be done. If I were a superhero, my name would be The Complicator.

  I popped the bracelet back into its case. “I assume I’m to deliver this one, as well?”

  Mason simply nodded, waving a hand at me to leave his office. “I need to finish up this proposal. You can give your cousin the one, and have the other delivered.”

  Grumbling under my breath, I left, closing the door behind me. Popping open my ever-present cell, I called for a courier to deliver Rowena’s bracelet. My heels click-clacked down the pristine black-and-white tile hallway as I rounded the corner and headed toward the front of the building.

  The receptionist desk was empty. It was after five—well after, as Mason worked “on call.” Therefore, as his lackey, I worked on call too.

  At least I had no worries about Carrie, the new annoying secretary, hounding me every five seconds about Mason. “Does Mr. Wallings need anything? Did he get my messages? Did he blah blah blah?” The woman talked a mile a minute about the most inane things, usually revolving around Mason. About three seconds into a conversation with her, you’d want to chew off your arm, just so you’d have an excuse to run away.

  Fifteen minutes after I made the call, the courier arrived. I grasped the box, wrapped in paper from Carrie’s stash, and handed it to the courier. Though he knew the spiel, as he’d done a few deliveries for us by now, I did this every time he picked stuff up, even if just for my peace of mind.

  “This is an important, private delivery to Mr. Wallings’ wife,” I said. “It’s crucial she receives it immediately. Mr. Wallings likes working with you and your company, so we’d like to keep this relationship going.”

  I paused, raising both my eyebrows and widening my eyes to emphasize the importance of my next words. “He trusts you. And believe me, you don’t want to lose that trust. The previous courier learned that the hard way.”

  That last part was total bull, but I found saying vague comments like that added to my boss’s mystique. And if they respected him, they’d respect me too.

  The guy swallowed hard and nodded seriously, pocketing the wrapped package. “O-okay.”

  He took off, not even bothering to wait for the elevator, but dashing down the stairs.

  Mission accomplished.

  I headed back home to my apartment, located just blocks from the office. Another perk of working for Mason; once I’d started with him last year, he’d insisted I needed to be close by, just in case. And since he’d found me a surprisingly spacious apartment by the waterfront of Lake Erie that didn’t cost an arm and a leg—not easy to do when living in downtown Cleveland—I didn’t gripe too much about being at his constant beck and call.

  I headed up the stairs to the third floor and trekked down the hallway to my apartment. The sounds of Britney’s favorite music group, The Black Eyed Peas, poured out the door to greet me. They were singing something about their humps. I generally tried to tune out that kind of music as much as possible, but found it increasingly difficult when Britney blasted the music at all hours of the night.

  Rolling my eyes, I opened the door and headed straight for the stereo, turning it down. “Britney, you’re gonna get me in trouble. I told you, we can’t crank the music like this.”

  Just two more days. Britney would be on the plane back home to Alabama, Mason’s infatuation with her would fade, and things could go back to normal. Finally.

  “Sorry,” Britney said in her
light country twang, emerging from the kitchen. She scratched the tip of her nose, powdered in flour, as was the front of her massive chest, barely covered in a tube top. “I was just making dinner for us. See?” She waved her hand at the pots and pans cluttered in the sink, cracked eggshells scattered across the counter.

  “What are you making?”

  “It’s omelets. Your favorite.”

  Omelets? Was there even flour in omelets? I fought the headache that threatened to take over at the sight of my kitchen, which now looked like a war zone.

  Biting back a sigh, I forced a smile. “That’s nice of you, thanks. Wipe your hands, because I got something for you from The Machine.” Best to deliver this stupid gift and get it over with.

  Britney clapped, jumping and giggling in utter glee. Her chest bounced up, down, up, down in perfect rhythm. How they stayed in the tube top, I didn’t know, but I was thankful to the boob gods for helping me maintain my innocence.

  “Yippee!” She ran into the bathroom, washed up quickly then came back out, plopping down on the couch.

  I dug into my pocket and gave Britney the jewelry box. “Here. But please tell him thanks yourself, and don’t involve me in your affair anymore. This is it for me.” I fixed her with a stern look. “I mean it.”

  Britney opened the box and gasped, squealing. “Omigodomigodomigod!” She took the bracelet out, admiring the size of the diamonds.

  Even I couldn’t help feeling a small pang of jealousy. No one had ever bought me something like that before. Of course, I needed to actually go on a date in order to have a boyfriend.

  And I needed to get out more in order to go on a date. Being Mason’s personal shopper-slash-assistant-slash-whatever was a time-consuming job, moreso than I’d realized when my sister first got me the job. It was lucky to make it to the grocery store once a week, much less go on a bona fide date.

  Britney flipped the bracelet over, reading the inscription. Her face scrunched up. “Who’s ‘R’? Is this, like, a typo or something?”

  “What?” I grabbed the bracelet out of her hand.

  Darling R, just a small token of love. M

  Oh, no. No, no, no, no, this couldn’t be happening. A sick thud hit my gut as the contents of my stomach threatened to come out. I was dead meat. No, even worse. Meat had never been more dead than I was about to be.

  I thrust the bracelet back into the box, hands shaking, then grabbed my cell and called the courier company as I slipped into my bedroom.

  “Hi, this is Mason Wallings’ assistant,” I said in as calm a voice as possible. “A courier came by and picked up a delivery, but I gave him the wrong thing. I need to speak with him and intercept the package.”

  “I’ll check on that for you. Hold on a second, please.” A pause, during which time I attempted to restart my heart. “I’m sorry,” the soft voice said, “the package is en route and should be there any minute. Perhaps you can call the recipient and explain the mistake?”

  Hey, Rowena, this is Jenna, Mason’s shopper-slash-assistant. I accidentally sent you a present that was meant for his secret girlfriend. Can you leave it unopened until I get there and give you your real present?

  “No,” I muttered. “I’ll have to go there myself.” And pray Rowena doesn’t rip me to shreds when she realizes what I’ve done.

  * * *

  Breathe. Just breathe. Fighting to calm my nerves, I rang the doorbell of Mason and Rowena’s sprawling brick mansion, located right on the waterfront of Lake Erie, just west of downtown.

  Miraculously I’d caught a wave of green lights, and it had only taken me ten minutes to get to their house. Darkness blanketed the peaceful street, nestled in a luxurious suburban neighborhood, and the only lights to be seen were the occasional streetlights in the distance and the small orange flood lights along the Wallings’ front walkway.

  A surge of anger at Mason’s cheating folly ran through me. If only Mason hadn’t been such a prick, or had kept his prick in his pants, I wouldn’t be here. Wasn’t one woman enough to handle? Rowena seemed like a high-maintenance kind of chick to me.

  Truthfully I was just as ticked at my cousin, always getting mixed up in trouble. She and I were close in age (as kids, my older sis had avoided me like the plague, since she was oh-so cool and had superpowers, whereas I didn’t), so Britney and I stayed thick as thieves while growing up, religiously visiting each other every summer.

  But as Britney got older it inevitably meant me digging her out of one dating disaster after another. No, she never did pick ‘em well.

  The door opened. Rowena’s smooth, pale face, framed with dark black shoulder-length locks, tightened in disdain as she glanced down at me. “Oh, it’s you. Come on in.”

  At least she didn’t smite me on the spot. Meaning she hadn’t opened the package yet. There was still a chance to do the old switcheroo.

  I followed her through the foyer into the massive living room, which appeared even larger due to the vaulted ceilings and large brick fireplace at the other end. Their house was beautiful, like a showroom in the Metropolitan House magazine, and I felt like a pauper standing there.

  I don’t know why, but Rowena had always disliked me. Not that the feeling wasn’t mutual, as I couldn’t stand her, but at least she had earned my dislike by treating me like an inferior. However, it seemed to me she disliked all non-superheroes, so maybe it was just a personality flaw of hers.

  “I hope you’re doing well today, Mrs. Wallings,” I said, trying to sound upbeat. I perched carefully on the edge of the black leather couch, afraid to even leave a butt indent, lest I bring down the value of their home.

  Even though I’m well into adulthood—a hair’s width from turning thirty, in fact—I didn’t feel comfortable addressing Rowena by her first name. Just the vibe she sent out. I think she purposely made people feel uncomfortable with her.

  She gave me a small nod in return. “What can I do for you, Jenna?”

  “Well, I got two packages mixed up and sent yours somewhere else, but I got it back. Do you have the other one?” I pulled the box out of my pocket and fought the shakiness in my hand, flashing Rowena a huge, fake smile. My heart threatened to hammer itself right out of my chest. Stay calm. “This one’s for you.”

  Rowena grabbed the box with lightning-fast reflexes, sliding her red index fingernail under the tape. She opened the box and lifted the diamond bracelet then flipped it over, looking at the back. Her eyes brightened when she read the inscription.

  “Oh, how thoughtful of him,” she cooed as she clasped it onto her thin wrist. “I’ll have to thank him when he gets home later.”

  “I’m sure he’ll love that.” I tugged my purse higher on my shoulder and stood, ready to leave. “Now, I’ll take that other package and be on my way.”

  Rowena tilted her head, thinking for a moment. She snapped her finger. “Oh, yes, it’s on the side table. Hold on.” She disappeared quickly and came back, studying the package and her bracelet box, both in her hands. “Funny. These seem to be the same size.”

  I swallowed hard. Crap. Time to get the hell out of Dodge. “Yeah, that’s wild,” I said with careful nonchalance. “I’ll just take that and go.”

  I reached out to swipe it but wasn’t fast enough.

  Rowena jerked the box away, her eyes turning to me in a piercing stare. “What’s in here, anyway?” she asked.

  Shrugging as casually as possible, I said, “I have no idea. I just know I needed to deliver it. Boss’s orders, you know.”

  Rowena plunked her box on the coffee table then shredded the wrapping for the unopened gift, flinging it carelessly to the floor to reveal the identical velvet blue box of Britney’s bracelet.

  Crap, crap, crap. Please God, I prayed, don’t let me die here on the Wallings’ floor. It was such a lovely parquet tile, and I didn’t think my mangled, blood-drained body would match the classical décor.

  If I was going to die, I at least wanted it to be after the biggest ‘O’ of my life. Pr
eferably with a hunk. Now that would be a way to go out in style. Not here, ripped to shreds by Rowena’s freakish fingernails.

  Rowena cracked open the box, her face pinched tightly when she saw what was inside. She lifted the diamond bracelet out, whipped it over, and sat in silence for a long minute, scrutinizing the words on the back.

  My heart pounded painfully in my chest, and a hot flush burned my face. I suddenly felt ashamed about my part in the affair. I’d inadvertently shown her that her husband was a cheater. If I were her, I’d be devastated, hurt, crushed.

  Yeah, this was my cue to leave.

  I glanced over to the door, not twenty feet away from me. Even though I knew Rowena could outrun me any day of the week, given her preternatural speed, I still debated making a run for it.

  “I’m sure you have a perfectly good explanation for this,” Rowena finally said in a flat voice, pinning me with her steely gaze.

  “I—” I paused, considering my words. “I don’t really know what to—”

  Before I could blink, Rowena appeared right in front of my face, not more than two inches away. The anger rolled off her in heated waves as she stared coldly into my eyes. I blinked rapidly and turned my gaze away, a lump caught in the middle of my throat.

  She placed Britney’s bracelet inside the blue box with an odd carefulness, pressing it in my hands. I clenched the box, unsure what to say.

  “Maybe I can clarify things, huh?” Rowena’s words came out deceptively calm. “Let’s see. My husband is cheating on me, and not only did you know, you helped him.”

  My heart thudded in my chest. To my shame, she was right. I should have resisted Mason more, should have insisted on being kept out of his womanizing. I’d played my part in his drama, and I deserved the blame for that.

  “I’m so sorry,” I said, pouring my heart into my voice. And I was. As crazy as Rowena was, no one deserved to be cheated on, especially like that.