Vigilante stared at me, a blank look on his face. “Huh?”
I smirked, tucking a hand on my hip. “What, haven’t you heard of a sidekick before?”
He rolled his eyes at me.
Of course he knew. Everyone knows what a sidekick is—the superhero’s number two guy or gal. And that’s about how they’re viewed by the general population, too. With rare exceptions, most sidekicks are practically invisible, little more than placeholders until the ‘real’ hero showed up to take over the fight and win the love of the crowd.
And even worse, sidekicks could sometimes be more of a nuisance than a help if they were captured by villains, forcing the superhero to rescue them.
Mason didn’t even bother with having one. If you ask me, he probably didn’t want anyone else to share his glory.
Vigilante shook his head. “No. Bad idea. We’re not doing that.”
Some part of my gut also told me this probably wasn’t a great plan, but it was the only one I had so far.
I leaned back against the countertop, weighing my options.
Pro: Being a sidekick would give me the opportunity to investigate the changing crystal’s would-be thieves better, as I could have access to more information as a sidekick than a regular Joe Schmoe. Governmental officials tended to respect superheroes much more than some nosy average chick who wanted information.
Pro: I could see who this Dementrix person was and possibly learn a little more about Vigilante from their interaction. Given how tight-lipped Vigilante was about his personal life, this was a tempting reason. Who was this person who’d become Vigilante’s archnemesis? And why?
Pro: I could get closer to Vigilante. I hated admitting it, but the guy was growing on me. I kept thinking about how cool he was with my mom. She absolutely adored him. In fact, I think she was already planning the names of our future babies together, which wasn’t a good idea, but try telling her that.
Deep down though, I couldn’t help thinking about what it would be like to date Vigilante.
Ugh. Not a good line of thought at the moment. We had a mission to accomplish, so daydreaming about him would have to come later. Okay, time to think of the down side of being a sidekick.
Con: Being a superhero was no game. People could be injured or killed when it came to fighting villains. I’d have to step back and let Vigilante do all the real fighting, as I had absolutely no ass-kicking abilities.
Con: What superpower could I claim to have? I didn’t carry awesome gadgets or have any physical skills, and I didn’t want to fall into a vat of radioactive sludge, so I’d have to come up with something good I could fake.
But what?
I sighed deeply. “Look, I know I don’t have any superpowers, but I can hang in the background. You do all the work, and I’ll be a fake sidekick. I’ll put a mask on and wear a uniform. No one will know my identity, so the crystal and I will be perfectly safe." I paused. "I’m not wearing spandex, though.”
As soon as the sidekick thought had appeared in my head, I’d already decided I wasn’t going anywhere near the fabric. I tried the stuff a few years ago for a ‘yoga for slackers’ class. Not a good look for me.
I glanced down at my thighs, imagining them in hot-pink clingy fabric like what my sister, who was a good two sizes smaller than me, wore. God help us all.
Vigilante paused, raised an eyebrow. “Not everyone wears spandex. As you can see, I don’t.”
And thank heaven for that. While he obviously had a great body, it made me cry on the inside to see men wearing thin, stretchy cloth.
“You’re gonna be protecting me anyway, because of the changing crystal. We might as well make it work to our advantage,” I said, continuing to press the issue. “What could it hurt to try?”
Vigilante mulled it over, his brows pushed together as he mentally rolled through the pros and cons. Finally, he nodded slowly. “Okay, it’s a deal. But no fighting. And you have to go where I say, when I say it.”
“Fabulous,” I said, clapping my hands together. “Now, grab your wallet. We’re going shopping.” Finally, I was going to be in my element. I darted upstairs to throw on my clothes before he could change his mind.
* * *
One hour later, Vigilante and I stood in the aisle of Hero, an out-of-the-way boutique that specializes in superhero clothing and accessories—not weapons, but more like masks and cool belts. Mason had introduced me to the store early into working with him, so I made trips there every few weeks or so to restock various parts of his wardrobe after they were shredded, burned, blown apart or melted off. I couldn’t tell you how many friggin’ arm braces he went through in a month, much less boots and the like. It was ridiculous.
Vigilante groaned as he watched me flip through rack after rack with my free hand. He crossed his arms in front of his chest. “I don’t understand why I need to be in here. I already have a uniform. I can wait outside while you pick something out.”
I looked over his ever-present black wardrobe. “Because if we’re going to work together as a team, you can’t wear black all the time. We need to throw in some color.” Besides, black tended to wash me out, so I had to veto that.
I leaned in close and studied the exposed planes of his face, the sharp angle of his jaw. He shied away from me, eyes slitted as I scrutinized him.
“When’s the last time you got any sun?” I asked.
“Sun?” he replied, his upper lip curled in a sneer. “I don’t have time to tan. I’m too busy saving the world.”
“Give me a break," I said, rolling my eyes. "Everyone has time to get a tan now, and safely.” I nodded my head resolutely. “Yup, we’re going to get you a spray tan done, too. See how nice mine looks?” I lifted my arm to show off the tan I’d gotten last week with Britney.
Speaking of, I made a mental note to call her to make sure she got home okay. Somehow I suspected Mason wouldn’t be checking on her.
He paused, his eyes suddenly heated. “Yes, I’ve seen your skin.”
Oh, my. He was thinking about the towel thing.
A slow, anxious burn crept through my stomach, and I swallowed hard. “Y-Yes, well, anyway, you need a little color.” I turned my attention back to the clothing rack and flipped through different styles of tops, trying to ignore the sexual charge rushing through me.
And my fantasy of his sexy, full lips slightly parted, hovering close to me, his tongue licking that water droplet off my skin—
“—but nothing lighter,” I heard him say.
I tried to shake my dirty thoughts off. “I’m sorry, what?”
I felt, rather than heard him right behind me, no more than an inch from my back. Oh God, he was killing me.
His lips almost brushing my ear, he whispered, “I said, I’ll wear dark colors, but nothing lighter. So don’t ask.” His cologne teased my nose, and I breathed him deeply in.
I closed my eyes, the cooler’s handle almost indenting my palm. A war raged within me.
Inner Demon: Turn around and kiss him!
Inner Angel: No, don’t do it! Hello—you don’t even know who he really is!
“Can I help you?” the store owner said from the counter, making the decision for me.
I tore myself away from Vigilante’s all-encompassing nearness and stepped over to her. “I’m looking for a sidekick uniform. Um, for my employer.”
She winked, which deepened the wrinkles around her eyes. She was an attractive woman with a nice, trim figure. Probably a superhero herself, back in the day. “Sure thing, honey.” She led me over to a rack in the back. “I have spandex uniforms in all colors, shapes, and sizes. And we can iron on any letter you want.”
I shuddered, unable to help myself. “Do you have anything…non spandexy?”
“I’m sorry?” she asked, her nose crinkling as she stared at me with a blank expression. “I don’t understand.”
From behind me, I heard Vigilante chuckle.
I did my best to ignore him and his sexy lips. “My employe
r doesn’t want spandex.”
“Why not?”
“Because, she thinks it makes her look really lumpy.” I had a sudden vision of Mason’s gut pressing against his dress shirt, the buttons crying for sweet release. That was not going to be me.
The store owner raised her eyebrow. “You know, we’ve updated our materials quite a bit in the past ten years. These new uniforms are customized and state-of-the-art. You’d be surprised at how much they…hold in.”
She winked again. I knew she saw right through my “employee” lie.
“Why don’t you try one on?” She held up a maroon one-piece spandex suit that looked about two sizes too small for my curvy frame. “By the way, the two pockets in the front can hold items but not show them, so no unsightly bulges. It’s the perfect versatility and comfort for all your needs.”
A small itch of discomfort wove up my spine as I stared at the little fabric. I’m not a huge girl, but there was no way that outfit was going to fit me.
Vigilante grabbed it from her hand, thrusting it into mine. “Go.” He pushed me into the changing room.
“Stop pushing,” I said, stumbling over my feet.
He closed the door right behind me.
“Blowhard,” I mumbled.
“I heard that,” his voice said through the door. He sounded amused at my griping. Cheeky bastard.
“Good.” I put the cooler down against the wall, turned away from the mirror, stripped off my clothes and exhaled a big sigh. If ever a woman deserved an award for being forced to wear something ugly, it was me.
I pulled on the fabric, sliding it up my body and slipping my arms through the sleeves, then zipped up the back. It felt amazingly comfortable, like a second skin. I barely noticed it was on, actually.
I chanced a glance down at my thighs.
Holy cow, they looked…not huge. My stomach wasn’t bowing out, either. And my chest…why, it actually looked perky! What kind of magic was this?
I turned my head to see what my ass looked like in the mirror. My backside reflection—the true test of how well clothing fit. Something that looked fabulous from the front could look horrendous from behind, no pun intended.
My ass looked firm and round. Not chunky at all.
I spun my body around, amazed when I looked my figure over in the glass.
“Hey, are these trick mirrors or something?” I hollered over the top of the door. My body didn’t look like mine at all. I wondered if I could wear this twenty-four hours a day, as it was the best figure-shaper I’d ever seen in my life.
The owner laughed. “I told you. Quality high-tech fabrics make a world of difference. Try jumping up and down. It moves with you.”
I jumped, stretching my arms and legs far as I could in every direction. Amazing. The fabric moved easily with every motion I did, showing no signs of straining or effort.
I threw the door open and ran over to quickly hug her. “Wow, this is perfect.”
Vigilante’s smile disappeared as his eyes raked over my body, and I suddenly felt very, very naked. His eyelids were heavy, his pupils dark. He didn’t say a word, just slowly scanned me over, the right side of his mouth curved ever so slightly. My heart raced under his scrutiny.
“I think your boyfriend approves,” the owner said, the smile pouring through her voice. “Now, let’s get you two finished up so you can be on your way.”
* * *
“You seem different,” Mason said to me once I got back at the office. His disinterested blue eyes scraped me over in a quick sweep.
My heart leapt into my throat. Crap, what if he could see the maroon-colored uniform through my clothes? I hadn’t considered the protocol for faking being a sidekick. What if I got fired for it? I pushed down my feelings of guilt. The league told me to keep myself safe. This seemed the best way to do it.
I straightened up, looked him right in the eye. “Maybe all the added responsibility is positively affecting on how you view me.”
He barked out a laugh. “I suppose you’re right.”
His cell rang, so he waved me out of his office. “Wallings,” I heard him say in greeting as I shuffled to Vigilante right outside the room.
“Hey,” Vigilante said, his eyes flickering across the hallway, “why don’t you show me around? Give me a tour.”
“Good idea.”
We headed down the hallway toward the main reception area, and I pointed out doors along the way. “There’s the bathroom. And there’s the employee lounge.”
We passed by the front desk, where Carrie waved her stubby hands furiously at me. “Wait, Jenna,” she said, “before you go, did Mr. Wallings say when his meeting will be over? Because I have some things for him to sign, and he has some calls he still hasn’t returned.”
“No, he didn’t. Sorry,” I said, trying to push down my irked feelings at her insistent nagging.
“Well, when you see him again, tell him to come find me. Do you want me to put that cooler in the employee refrigerator?” she asked, starting to rise out of her chair. I heard the wheels groan under her efforts.
“No, no,” I said, pushing it closer to my side. “It’s okay, thanks.”
I spun around and headed away from her. To Vigilante, I whispered, “And there’s Mason’s new secretary. She’s a bit of a pain. One of those people who try too hard to be helpful, you know?”
He chuckled. “I can see that.”
We turned right past the elevator, and I led him down another hall. “Over here are a couple of locked doors. I don’t know what’s in there right now, sorry, but usually it has specs of some new project he’s working on.”
Mason had wandered in and out of those rooms all the time lately, so I figured all the secrecy was related to that new project the company had started. He liked to keep a lid on things until the clients accepted his official proposal, and then he’d have me come in and brief me of the situation, such as what kinds of metal they wanted, how much and so on, so I could assist him later.
Vigilante’s eyes wandered over the doors, lingering as we passed by. “Oh, okay.”
When we reached the end of the hall, I turned around. “There’s a huge floor downstairs where Mason has actual inventory, but I don’t go there a lot. It’s hard-hat and steel-toed boots only, since they work with metal.”
Vigilante nodded thoughtfully.
A thought popped up in my head. “Hey, don’t you have a day job? You’re spending a lot of time…with me. I hate to take you away from whatever you’re supposed to be doing.” Perhaps getting him to talk about his “normal” identity would show me a little more about him.
Vigilante shrugged. “I’m self-employed. I work when I want.”
“And you’re self-employed at…?”
“My job.” He smirked.
God, was I going to have to hold his hand and lead him into talking? This mysterioso persona of his was starting to get a bit off-putting.
I bit back a growl of frustration and stalked ahead of him, irritation making my gait quicker. Clickclackclickclack—my heels beat a rapid pattern across the floor. I could knock the attitude right out of him by telling him I know about those old condoms in his bedside table drawer. That’d show him.
And it would also be petty.
I slowed my pace then walked beside him again. He was a superhero. He had an identity to protect. Who was I but some job he’d been assigned to? He had no ties to me, no reason to divulge any information. I had to be honest with myself. Even though I was starting to get attached to him, he obviously wasn’t emotionally invested in me at all. And that sucked.
Thoughts decidedly sober, I shuffled back into my office, plopping into my seat. I’d better be careful, or things were going to get even more complicated.
Chapter 8
“Let’s go,” Vigilante said, darting back into my office. He’d gotten a call and had excused himself to talk on his cell. “I just got a tip that Dementrix is at SummerTech. Time to pay a little visit.”
Wh
oa. A rush of air flooded my head, making me dizzy. It was time to start with the superhero act, and so soon. But I’d only just gotten used to the idea!
I glanced at my watch. Four-thirty. I didn’t have much else to do today, so I knew I could sneak out. Okay, I was going to do it. I was ready to be brave and make this happen. This was when I would show my merit as a woman and a fake superhero!
I stood and ripped my dress shirt off, buttons flying everywhere. I threw it to the floor with a sweep of my arm. “Let’s roll!”
Vigilante stared at me. “Um, you still have to leave the building. So maybe you can put that shirt back on until then.”
“Oh. Right.” Heat flamed my cheeks. Well, I was a bit overly enthusiastic about this endeavor, but I was still a total newbie. I picked up my discarded shirt then scrambled around to find the buttons. Perhaps ripping my own clothes off was not the best exit strategy.
Theatrical? Yes. Practical? No.
Vigilante sighed, tapping his foot in impatience. “Just leave the damn buttons.” He took off his overcoat and draped it over me. The new maroon top I’d strong-armed him into buying at the store looked striking on him. “We need to go. Now.”
“Thanks.” I tried my best to fight the urge to close my eyes and cuddle in his jacket, still warm from his body heat. The scent of his cologne wrapped around me. God, what a sap I was becoming over one guy.
What was happening to me? I was just lonely and desperate, that’s all. Sometimes that happened to women. We’d need a date, and when a guy was around us a lot for whatever reason, we started displacing our feelings and imagining stuff that wasn’t there. It’s just science.
But I knew I didn’t imagine that hot look he gave me in the store. Or the chemistry from our close proximity in there.
Oy. No time to ponder that right now. We scuttled out of the building and headed out of the parking garage in my car, flying down the road at the speed of light. Cars flew by on both sides.
With the beer cooler in my lap, I clung to the interior door handle of my little beater car, hoping the doors wouldn’t rattle off. So this was what it’s like to be a superhero—flying at breakneck speed to face possible peril. It was exhilarating…and absolutely frightening. What made me think I was cut out for this?
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