“Okay. So look, that he’s a guy makes me nervous because you have to spend so much alone time with him—keep your cell with you at all times. All you have to do is speed dial me, and I’ll fly to wherever the fuck you are and yank his balls up through his throat. ’K?”
“Yes, Nina,” Wanda drawled. “And now I’m going. I have stuff to do, errands to run, and lists to make. You know, my typical OCD Saturday? I’m fine, but I appreciate your concern. Marty? I’m hanging up. I’ll talk to you guys later. Byeeeeee.”
Wanda clicked the phone off before they had a chance to protest.
Though she had shopping to do and a house to clean, she sat on the couch, Menusha curled up in her lap while she stroked her silky fur. Staring at nothing.
“I warn you, sir. If you ever leave me in this hellhole alone again, I fear you may find me employed elsewhere.”
“I’m sorry, Arch. It was a long day yesterday—we got back pretty late—but I sold twenty-three starter kits.” Heath rubbed his fingers together. “That means money, and better I stay at Wanda’s during that snowstorm than risk trashing the only tangible thing we have—the car.”
Archibald swiped at imaginary dust on Heath’s shoulder. “Oh, sir. Surely you don’t think I’m given to falling for such tall tales, do you?You got your, as they say in this new millennium, freak on with the cosmetics maiden. And by all means, Heathcliff, far be it from me to interfere.When have I ever interfered in your personal matters?Your freak is yours to get on or not—and you’ve gotten plenty in your time here on Earth. However, when my well-being is at stake, I must take steps to prevent my person from injury. Sadly, and without reservation, I hesitate not at all in saying your rather imposing figure keeps the”—he leaned in, pointing to the surrounding cots, and whispered—“heathens at bay.”
Heath gave him a knowing nod. “Ah, were you worried somebody’d kick your ass for the Happy Meal toys you’ve collected or something?” Because lesser valuables had certainly been fought over in their time here.
Arch nodded solemnly. “So worried, I didn’t sleep a wink.” He circled his eyes with two fingers. “These are my tired eyes, sir. And in future, whilst you go freaking, please think of me, your faithful manservant, who, I might add, has followed you to hell and back with nary a question when you chose to, ah, cavort.”
Heath slapped him on the back, giving his manservant a direct stare. “I didn’t cavort or freak, old man. I slept on the couch—with the cat.”
Archibald’s snort was loud as he straightened the short ends of his jacket over his stomach. “Of course you did.”
Heath raised his right hand. “No,Arch, it wasn’t like that. Swear on a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup.”
“Oh, my. A Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup, you say? This is serious.”
“I like Wanda, and I respect her as my regional supervisor.”
“Of course you do. You’ve respected all the women you’ve bedded.”
“Arch, you’re not listening. I can’t afford to screw this up, and making a move on Wanda could have my ass deep-fried. She seems pretty uptight—no matter how good looking. She makes lists—they’re all over her kitchen. She writes everything down, and when she’s done writing one list, she makes another for the first list. She’s a rule follower, and I don’t know if there’s a rule about fraternization at Bobbie-Sue, but I ain’t breakin’ it to see.We need to play this right, or we’re right back where we started. Remember that place, pal? You know, the one where we have nothing? At least for now we have something. It isn’t a lot, but it beats the shit out of where we were four months ago. Now we just need to save some cash and get a place of our own. That means I can’t make a move on my boss.” No matter how kissable she was. No matter how . . . no matter. End of.
Arch clucked his tongue. “Ah, but do I see the twinkle of interest in your eyes, young Heathcliff? Were circumstances different, would you set about casting your net of charm and capturing the fair cosmetics maiden?”
Heath didn’t answer, and apparently that was enough for Archibald to draw his own conclusions. “Your silence says it all. I sense regret in it. Never you worry, sir. It won’t be long before you have the means to stalk your prey properly.”
“I don’t want to stalk anything, Arch. I just want us to survive and live out the rest of our lives in semi-comfort. Be able to afford to have a beer every now and then.Watch football and eat chicken wings, ya know?”
“And that life will never involve a woman again? I believe you protest too much, young man. And don’t you miss the finer things, sir? Your mansion, for instance . . .”
Heath’s face broke into a smile. “You know what? Not even a little. We had some good times, lots of nice shit, but there were lots of things we didn’t have, in case you’ve forgotten. We can get the material things back. We can’t get our lives back—but we can get Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups whenever we want ’em.”
“True, true, sir, and I can promise you, if you leave me here alone again, I wouldn’t count on keeping this new life of yours much longer.”
Heath snickered. “Okay, I get it. I won’t leave you alone again.”
“Sir?”
“Yep?”
“She’s pretty, this Wanda?”
“Yeah, and?”
Archibald gave him a curt nod, but his eyes held mischief. “Oh, and no matter how fair our Wanda is, she’s off limits, sir. Completely, totally, irrevocably so.”
“And don’t you forget it.”
“Never, young Heathcliff. In fact, I shall write it down and repeat it thrice daily. It will be my mantra. Words to live by—”
“Archibald?”
“Sir?”
“Knock it off.”
CHAPTER 6
Wanda brushed the finishing powder over her makeup, wrinkling her nose. Her lightly lined eyes looked glassy to her tonight. She turned away from her bathroom mirror and put her makeup bag in her purse with a careless toss. Squaring her shoulders, she went to the living room and pulled on her knee-length coat, digging her car keys from the pocket.
Tonight wasn’t going to be easy.
In fact, tonight sucked.
And Linda Fisher was going to experience a coup de grâce bar none in her small, petty world.
The bitch.
But it had to be done, Wanda reminded herself for the thousandth time as she drove the familiar route to Bobbie-Sue corporate. She was going to hand Heath over to Linda on a silver platter. Lock stock and starter kits—all twenty-three.
She wasn’t sure if she was doing him a favor by literally offering him up to the huntress of all things dangly, but she was hoping in the end—her end—he’d see she’d just done what she thought was fair. Wanda’d battled all weekend long over whether she should try to contact him, but that was impossible since he didn’t have a cell phone. Corporate would contact him, and she’d be relieved of ever having to see him again. Which made her feel that twinge of sorrow for the nine-millionth time. That she’d never see his killa buns again was surely reason to go into mourning.
She’d decided late last night, the coming months would be spent preparing instead of working. She had enough in her savings account to last her at least a year—which was six months more than her doctor had given her. Her savings might just allow her to do a couple of the things she’d always wanted to do, too. She’d also decided last night to make a list of those things—ASAP.
And she wasn’t just handing over Heath. She was handing over all of her reps and clients, resigning from Bobbie-Sue with a request that Marty be left out of the loop for the time being. Hopefully, corporate would honor that. She just wanted a little time for herself before she had to tell Marty and Nina . . . her sister . . . her mother.
Pulling into the underground parking garage, she selected a spot and turned the ignition off, double-checking her makeup one last time in her rearview mirror. She threw her keys into her purse and headed up in the elevator to the massive room where they held their weekly meetings.
The meetings Nina had always said were like attending a Jim Jones fest.
Perfume floated in the air, tinged with the scent of hunger for a sky blue convertible. A smell all too familiar, and it brought a smile to her lips for a brief moment.When she wrote her list, she could check that off as something accomplished. By God, she’d gotten the coveted Bobbie-Sue sky blue convertible—and she’d done it without the aid of her prick of an ex-husband and his money. When she’d earned the car, it had become a symbol to her. A symbol of her independence—a sign she could take care of herself. And although she collected alimony, she didn’t need it to survive. So she wrote a check to one charity or another every month with the money George dutifully paid her.The pride she’d felt when she was able to do that had been big.
She made her way past the throng of women gathered in small groups. Brightly colored business suits, reflecting the level of Bobbie-Sue success, were worn by women who bobbed their heads in animation, their hands flying about in lively conversation.
Her eyes scanned the room for her target. And how apropos, Linda Fisher, said target, held court in the midst of all the hubbub. Wanda brushed a hand over her sky blue suit, tugging at the ends of her jacket to straighten it—lest Linda forget who held color court in this joint, at least for now. She pressed between the swarm of bodies and signaled Linda with a wave of her finger. “May I speak to you?” Wanda fought to keep her teeth from clenching.
Linda straightened her shoulders, smoothing the skirt of her yellow suit. Nina was right. Hell really was the color yellow. No one should ever wear it unless absolutely forced.Wanda’d skipped right over the yellow level and had shot right to red—much to Linda’s dismay. Linda gave Wanda one of her patented fake smiles. “Of course.” She pivoted on her heel and shook her scrawny yellow ass off to a nearby corner, turning back to Wanda and crossing her arms over her chest. Her stance was defensive, and well it should be. Linda’d done some shitty stuff to Marty, and since then, Wanda dealt with her as little as possible. “So what can I do for you, Wanda?”
“I have a favor to ask.”
Linda narrowed her beady eyes, running her tongue over her lips, but she remained silent, merely cocking her head, the flipped-up ends of her Marlo Thomas hairdo shivering.
Wanda decided there was no point in fucking around. “I need you to take on a rep for me.”
Linda’s look screamed dumbfounded. “You’re giving up a rep?”
“Yesssss, Linda,” she hissed. “I’m giving up a new rep. As you know, I have many—and right now, I’m on overload.”
“You’re giving a new rep to me—willingly?”
Wanda sighed, knowing full well Linda’d look for some dirty ulterior motive. Because that was just Linda—because she was a skank, she suspected everyone else was, too. “Yes. I’m giving a new rep to you.”
Ah. There it was. The look. The familiar glitter of a potential kill glistening in her eyes. Wanda knew that look. She’d seen it once before when Linda had stolen a huge account from Marty just after she’d been bitten. “Realllly,” she drawled long and windy, biting the tip of her clear polished nail. “The curiosity is killing me. Why would you”—she pointed her finger at Wanda’s chest—“want me”—then pointed it back at her own much bonier one—“to take on one of your reps? As I recall, there’s no love lost between us.”
Uh, no. She wasn’t going to let the heifer get ’tude with her. She didn’t have to be nice to her anymore. In fact, she didn’t have to ever be nice to her again. That thought brought a sense of freedom Wanda planned to run with—like a quarterback. “Because I like to watch you salivate. When you get that little drop of drool on the side of your mouth, it invigorates me.”
Linda pinched her Rousing Red lips together. “How about you just get to the point. I never thought I’d see the day you’d offer me up one of your reps. Is she a bitch? Is that why you want me to take her? It would be just like you and Marty to conspire against me and ask me to take on some loser.”
Wanda hovered over Linda, her eyes narrowed, her jaw stiff. “If it weren’t for Marty, you’d have no job, Linda—so back off, you client-stealing whore,” she growled. “And you leave my friend out of this—one of my best friends—oh, and your boss.” Nah-nah-nah-nah-nah-nah.
Linda gasped at the reminder that she’d once stolen clients from Marty, and in the end, Marty’d ended up owning Linda Fisher. “How crass of you.”
Wanda shot her a look of surprise with the raise of her eyebrows. She planted her hands on her hips, moving in on Linda. “Me? Crass? Oh, no, sistah. That was you, you weasel. You stole Marty’s clients, not me. She let you stay here at Bobbie-Sue because she’s a good person. Now shut that yap of yours and pay attention. I have a new rep. A very special rep. I’m only offering this new rep to you because, while you’re not exactly beyond reproach, you’re good at what you do. Even if it makes me want to gag just saying so. And this newbie is no loser. This rep could outsell you limbless and mute.”
“And what’s so special about this rep, Wanda?” She spat the words at her.
Wanda rolled her tongue along the inside of her cheek. “This rep is special because this rep is a man . . .” She let the gravity of that statement sink in, watching Linda chew on the information from behind hooded lashes.
“Wanda?” a low, gravelly voice called from over her shoulder. “Are you bragging about me to the girls?” The tone was teasing.
Wanda’s eyes went wide.
Oh. Good. It was the man.
She spun around to find Heath smiling down at her, casting a quick glance at Linda before returning his gaze to hers. His grin, playful and charming, made her want to drag him out of there by his ear. Shitshitshit. “What are you doing here?” Looking so good—smelling so good—flashing perfect teeth and wearing that damned suit again and holding a handful of shortbread cookies.
He popped one in his mouth and smiled before replying, “Attending the Bobbie-Sue weekly meeting. Just like it says in the—”
Aggravation sizzled along her spine. Wanda snapped a closed-fingered hand in his face, signaling him to shut it. “Pffftt! I know what it says in the Bobbie-Sue handbook. I’m not a sky blue for nothing.” She sent Linda a pointed, glaring reminder.
He leaned down to her ear, letting his lips almost brush the shell of it, his breath, cookie scented, made her cheeks flush, hot and an angry red. “Touchy, touchy. I’m just doing what I’m supposed to, according to the booklet you gave me. Page eighty-four, paragraph sixteen says in order to fully appreciate the joys of selling Bobbie-Sue and properly reap the benefits of your skilled senior representative’s wisdom, you must attend the weekly meetings.” He threw the last of the cookies into his mouth, swallowing them with that odd look of euphoria, then held out his arms with pride. “So here I am. Because you know, I’m just like that—a good employee and all.” He held out his hand to Linda. “I’m Heath Jefferson, by the way.”
Linda took his hand, then used it for leverage to push her way between Wanda and Heath, blessing Heath with one of her cattiest smiles. “Linda Fisher,” she introduced herself, then swung back to Wanda. “A man, you say, Wanda? Is this the man?” Her eyes glazed over as she took in every delicious inch of Heath while he pried his hand loose from hers.
Heath looked over Linda’s head to Wanda, a question in his eyes. “This man, what?”
Linda’s hair quivered again. “The man she wants to give to me to”—she paused momentarily, licking her thin lips in anticipation—“to tutor.” Her tongue rolled the R.
Heath ran a hand over his cleanly shaven jaw, shooting Wanda a question not just with his eyes. “Tutor? For what?”
Wanda planted her hands on Linda’s yellow shoulders and spun her around. “Linda—slink on off to your hole now. When I’m done, I’ll send Heath to you.”
Heath held up a hand, palm forward. “Why are you sending me to her?”
“Wait a minute!” Linda interrupted, moving back to face them both. “You’re really a Bobbie
-Sue rep? But you’re a man! And what’s wrong with me?”
“Yeah, I hear that a lot lately,” Heath agreed, offering a congenial chuckle. “And nothing’s wrong with you. It’s just that I’ve grown attached to Wanda . . .” He winked in Wanda’s general direction, sending another wave of red along her cheeks.
Linda popped her lips. “Wait a minute. Is this a joke, Wanda? Is this some kind of payback for what happened with Marty?”
“Who’s Marty?”
Wanda, out of exasperation, placed a hand over Heath’s mouth. “Quiet.” Her gaze returned to Linda’s. “No, this isn’t a joke, Linda, and it’s not payback. Heath signed up to sell Bobbie-Sue. He’s sold twenty-three starter kits in a day, and so far, no one’s even backed out yet. I’ll just bet that makes your zest for cash sha-wing, huh? Now if you’d just give me a minute to talk to Heath, I’ll send him your way.”
Linda kept her feet firmly planted in front of them. “Twenty-three starter kits—in a day? A day?” Wanda could feel Linda’s astonishment—like totally. She’d felt the same way about Heath’s amazing selling spree.
Heath nodded his head and smiled, puffing Wanda’s hand outward when he said, low and muffled, “Uh-huh. Good, right?”
Linda’s mouth fell open before she regained her composure. “Are—you—kidding—me? That’s stellar. Incredible. So what’s the catch, Wanda? Is he wanted for murder?”
Heath nodded his head in sympathetic understanding, finally removing Wanda’s hand from his lips. “You know, I’ve heard that a lot lately, too.”
“What?” Linda asked.
“The murderer thing. You women are pretty suspicious, and I guess I can’t blame you for protecting yourselves, so I’m just going to clear a couple of things up. I’m just a guy who really needs a job. I’m not a murderer. I’m not here to pick up women, though all of you are very attractive. I’m not into women’s clothing or fetishes, and I’m not gay. I think that covers everything, right, Wanda?” He grinned in Wanda’s direction, looking for affirmation with hazel eyes full of innocence.
The Accidental Human Page 10