Heartbreak for Hire

by Sonia Hartl

  “Yes, I’ll send you an e-mail. We have some catching up to do between our departments. I haven’t been over to your wing since I discussed my most recent paper with Dr. Hirst.” Good to know Eve could still exploit that network I’d built for her. “Which reminds me, I was sorry to hear your latest paper was passed over for publication.”

  My mom’s smile sharpened, as if she could taste the meat of the gazelle who thought she could run with lions. “And I was sorry to hear you were passed over for an assistant professor position. Though I admire your grit, persevering after four attempts. Weaker people than yourself might’ve given up after the second time.”

  “Three.” Eve’s plastic-coated smile wavered. “It was three attempts.”

  “Yes, of course, three. I don’t believe I know your friend.” My mom put on her brightest smile, which would only dim if she discovered Mark wasn’t someone worth knowing.

  Meanwhile, I’d been waiting for a handy sinkhole to open up and swallow me straight into the ground. Neither Mark nor I had said a word while my mom and Eve clucked around us. If I had to stand there for another second, I’d run into the nearest building and pull the fire alarm.

  “How rude of me.” Eve fluttered her hands. “Dr. Saunders, this is Dr. Cavanaugh. He’s an adjunct at UoC, and we’re what you’d call friendly competition.”

  My mom elbowed me in the ribs, probably because I hadn’t spoken a single word, or even looked up from the sidewalk. “Remember when you and Eve used to be friendly competition with each other? Those were the days.”

  We’d never competed. We would’ve had to want the same things for that to happen.

  “I didn’t know you used to run track, Eve,” Mark said.

  Her expression clouded with confusion. “I didn’t.”

  “My mistake.” Mark flicked a piece of lint off his sleeve. “I was under the impression that Brinkley was a runner.”

  “Okay, well, this has been fun, but we really need to get going.” I dug my nails into my mom’s wrist and dragged her away.

  I pulled her behind me for twenty feet before she yanked me back. “They’ve gone inside now. Care to tell me what that nonsense was all about?”

  “Just a guy I used to know and didn’t really want to see again.” I left her there and headed for the safety of the parking lot, in case Mark wanted to come back for round two.

  Once I made it to my mom’s car, I shuffled my feet outside the passenger-side door, beckoning her to hurry up. She took her sweet time, like she was out for a Sunday stroll and had all the time in the world. If I’d told her there was a student who wanted to argue for a higher grade on a poorly received research paper chasing her, I bet she would’ve moved faster. She unlocked her eco-friendly Prius from ten feet away. I slid into my seat, resting my head on the dashboard. I guessed I could add my mom’s office to places I could never go again.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” My mom rested an unsure hand on my shoulder, as if the smallest gestures to show she cared were so far out of her comfort zone that she didn’t know how to act. It made me feel worse than if she hadn’t touched me at all.

  “No.” I couldn’t explain it even to myself, let alone the person who believed I filed papers and sorted insurance claims for a living. “Just drive.”

  CHAPTER 8

  The following week, Margo asked us to come in late and go straight to the conference room we used for quarterly meetings first thing in the morning. I sat between Emma and Charlotte, with Allie on the end. Our initial training had started in this room, where Margo had run a three-week course on how to execute the Five Steps of Heartbreaking, after which she brought each one of us to a bar to observe us in action before she let us take on assignments of our own. A low hum of anticipation buzzed between us. Our consensus seemed to be that Margo would be adding another department. We prayed it wouldn’t be Abusers. She’d promised me she wouldn’t, but no one put it past her to try.

  “How did lunch with your mom go on Friday?” Charlotte pulled her long dark locks over her shoulder and picked at the ends. As the Heartbreaker in charge of Grifters, she took on the fewest assignments, but she made the most money per client by taking a percentage of recovered assets. She often spent up to six months working a single target. Despite the extreme levels of stress she was under in Grifters, Charlotte was a calming presence, the person I went to when I needed a strong dose of positivity.

  “As well as can be expected,” I said.

  Though my mom hadn’t probed me for more information about Mark, she did harp on about Dr. Faber’s impending retirement. The fact that I didn’t have the proper bachelor’s to be accepted into the anthropology program, nor the master’s required for teaching, didn’t faze her. She’d forever hold out hope that I’d eventually come to my senses and follow in her footsteps.

  “Sounds like she gave you another push toward going back to school,” Allie said.

  “That never changes, but now she’s added a teaching opportunity to the mix.”

  Emma smirked beside me. I’d called her the minute I got home and told her about my run-in with Mark and Eve. I trusted Allie and Charlotte to keep my dirty little secret, but I wasn’t quite as close with them. Emma was the only one I’d allowed into my Mark drama.

  Water under the bridge though. I barely even thought about him anymore. Selena had paid her fee, and if I avoided Finnigan’s, opting to drag my ass to the art supply store a full six blocks from my apartment, I never had to see Mark again. Now if I could just get my dreams to cooperate. I’d woken up on more than one night, tossing and turning and shaking with the memory of how his mouth had moved over me.

  “Whatcha thinking about?” Emma singsonged. “You’re about eight shades of pink.”

  I elbowed her in the side.

  “Where’s Margo?” Charlotte asked.

  I shrugged. She’d been very insistent about us all showing up at 1:00 p.m. on the dot, yet it was now 1:15. It wasn’t like her to be late. “I’ll go see if she got held up in her office.”

  I left the conference room and turned the corner toward Margo’s office, but the sound of construction on the opposite side of our floor had me changing directions—to where the Heartbreakers’ offices were located. Margo’s office had been designed like an old southern belle and a puffy pink unicorn had had a baby, but our personal offices were much sleeker and more modern. We all worked out of what amounted to little glass boxes. Our walls, our desks, even our filing cabinets were all chrome and glass. There was nowhere to hide.

  Margo, wearing a pink hard hat with lace trim, stood between two burly men as she pointed at my office. The three of them had a blueprint spread out on one of the glass desks, talking in low voices, but it was clear they were in the middle of a project. Emma’s office already had a second desk set up.

  I tapped Margo on the shoulder, and she jumped, her silver bob swaying under her chin. She glanced at her watch and frowned. “Looks like I lost track of time.”

  “What’s going on here?” I swept my hand toward Emma’s office. “Are we getting an assistant? Is that the big surprise?”

  A funny quivering rumbled in my stomach. One assistant was all we needed for the four of us, but it looked like each of us was getting a second desk in her office. I sincerely hoped she wasn’t hiring more Heartbreakers. I needed every penny from Egos to save for my gallery.

  Margo gave me a secretive smile as she hooked her arm through mine. “Let’s go back to the conference room, and I’ll explain everything there.”

  I didn’t like the sound of that.

  Ignoring the weight that had settled in my gut, I let Margo lead me away from the construction. Whatever she had up her sleeve would be revealed in moments anyway. A hush fell over Emma, Charlotte, and Allie as we entered. Margo made her way up to the pink podium, and I settled into my seat between Emma and Charlotte.

  “What did you find out?” Emma whispered.

  “You have a second desk in your office,” I said. “I
t looks like we’re all getting them.”

  “Really?” Emma’s face lit up. “Are we each getting our own assistant?”

  If only. I had a strong feeling Margo had something much worse up her sleeve. I put a finger over my lips to shush Emma as Margo’s gaze fell on us. Charlotte fidgeted in her seat. Out of the four of us, she had the most bizarre way of organizing, and the idea of having to share her weirdly chaotic space with an outsider must’ve made her queasy.

  Margo tapped her cotton-candy nails on the podium. “Listen up, girls.”

  We fell quiet at once.

  “Business is going well. But we are unique, and if we want to stay ahead of the game, we need to make adjustments when adjustments are due.” Margo smiled at us, though there was a strained edge to it. “I’m hoping this will be a change you’ll understand in time.”

  “I don’t like change,” Charlotte said under her breath. I was inclined to agree.

  “For the first time ever…” Margo paused for dramatic effect, looking each of us in the eye with steely resolve. Like it would be the last time she saw us before sending us off to war. “… Heartbreak for Hire is going to employ male Heartbreakers.”

  A weighted silence hung over the conference room, as if every single one of us had simultaneously stopped breathing. She’d hired men to be Heartbreakers? No. No way. There was no possible way Margo could think that was a good idea. Men didn’t belong at H4H. The whole reason we’d taken this job was that Margo had promised us an all-female environment. We had all been trampled on by men, either in the relationship or the career department, and Margo had offered us these roles as some kind of pseudo-healing from the ways we’d been wronged.

  “I can’t fucking believe this,” Emma said.

  I figured she’d be the first to speak up. Emma had joined H4H after having been passed over for a partnership at the advertising firm where she used to work. Jacob, the guy she’d fallen in love with, had gotten the promotion. After he used her to steal her ideas. This blow must’ve hit her especially hard. She’d never wanted to leave advertising, but she couldn’t stand to work with men after what she’d gone through.

  An angry buzz hummed between us. We all had stories similar to Emma’s and now felt betrayed by the one person who’d sworn to look out for us. This was worse than adding an Abusers department. This was inviting snakes into our bed and asking us to cozy up to them.

  “Calm down, ladies.” Margo kept a serene smile on her face. I had a strong urge to throw one of my ankle boots at her. “The men understand that this is a women-first organization. Trust me when I say they won’t get special treatment.”

  “Fucking bet.” Emma crossed her arms. Her small eyes were narrowed in disgust, and her delicate features were all scrunched up. She was fierce when angry, like a tiny fire-breather.

  “This won’t be happening all at once. They need to learn the Five Steps of Heartbreaking first, and they’ll need to train with you in the evenings. But I think you should meet them before you make any snap judgments.” Margo gestured to a side door.

  At her cue, a guy built like the Jolly Green Giant strolled into the conference room. He had to have been at least six and a half feet tall, with a very attractive face and light-blond hair. His expression was guarded as he took in the women shooting him death glares.

  “This is Liam Oosterhouse, and he’ll be the male Heartbreaker in Grifters,” Margo said.

  Beside me, Charlotte made a small noise that sounded a lot like choking. Her warm skin paled to a light brown. I squeezed her shoulder, just to remind her to breathe.

  “Next we have Charles Woodwyk, in Cheaters.” Margo gestured toward the door again, where another meaty piece of muscle entered, this one with bronzed skin and a devilish grin.

  “Kill me right now,” Allie muttered. She was almost as small as Emma, and just as strong-willed, with strawberry-blond hair, big brown eyes, and a light sprinkling of freckles across her alabaster nose that stood out like peach paint splatters.

  “And for the new male counterpart in Players,” Margo said as Emma growled beside me, “we have Nick Stafford.”

  “He’ll be lucky if he ends the day with his balls attached to his body,” Emma said, casually tucking a lock of her shoulder-length black hair behind her ear. Allie gave her a fist bump as Nick turned a light shade of green. Good.

  “Hold down your breakfast.” Margo patted Nick’s arm. “She’s more bark than bite.”

  Emma bared her teeth.

  Margo fiddled with the patterned scarf around her neck. “Moving on.” She looked at me, and I willed down the bile that had risen in my throat. “Egos welcomes Markus Cavanaugh.”

  The side door opened, and in strolled Mark, looking out of place in his herringbone sweater-vest and khakis. The apprehension on his face quickly melted to a piercing glare as he looked directly at me. My heart stopped as a roaring rush pounded in my ears.

  No. This had to be another dream. My subconscious couldn’t send me delicious images of Mark moving over my body forever. At some point, even my own mind had to turn on me. That’s what I got for eating chocolate in bed and bingeing on reruns of Gossip Girl.

  I blinked, but he wasn’t going away. This couldn’t be happening. Maybe he had an evil twin. That had to be it. I’d entered an alternate dimension where I was trapped on the set of a soap opera. I was about to wear the same outfit for three months straight and get one of those kids who aged ten years overnight. This must be the part where I’d find myself in a love triangle with Mark and Evil Mark.

  I pinched myself, willing the nightmare to fade. I’d wake up with a half-eaten Cadbury egg stuck to my face, and all would be right in the world again.

  “Stop doing that.” Emma smacked my hand. “This is really happening.”

  Mark smoothed out his expression, pretending to listen to Margo, but halfway through her speech, his storm-cloud eyes met mine across the room. A sizzle of electricity passed between us, even as the razor-sharp smile he gave me could’ve cut through diamonds. None of the goofy charm or kind interest he’d possessed at the Reading Lounge was present. He raised an eyebrow as his gaze settled on my shaking hands, the only outward sign that I was losing it.

  Fuck my life.

  CHAPTER 9

  I clenched my fingers together. My hands wouldn’t stop shaking. The walls in the spacious room pressed in on me, squeezing the oxygen out of my lungs. Margo made some speech about the future of the company and expansion plans, but I didn’t hear a single word. Emma whispered something to me. I didn’t hear her either. The only thing I heard was the speed at which my blood rushed to my brain. I bent forward, shoving my head between my knees. Puking all over the conference room floor would only add to my living nightmare.

  Emma rubbed my back. “We’ll fix this.”

  I sat up. It was too late to fix anything. This must’ve been what lab rats felt like the first time they had mascara tested on them. On my opposite side, Charlotte murmured words of comfort, while Margo told the men she wanted a private moment with us and excused them with the same flourish she’d used to introduce them. But not before Mark sent me a scathing glare meant to shred me to ribbons. The kind of look that promised a reckoning.

  I swallowed the lump in my throat.

  “Charlotte, Allie, Emma, Brinkley.” Margo waved a beckoning hand at us. “In my office, if you will. We have some things to discuss.”

  “You’re damn right we do,” Emma grumbled. She took my arm, squeezing it lightly. “Are you okay? You look like you’re about to pass out.”

  “I need to talk to you.” My lips felt like paper as I spoke. I desperately needed water. Or something stronger. “This is really bad.”

  “I know,” Emma said. “But we’ll present a united front and nip this bullshit in the bud before it goes any further.”

  I couldn’t say anything else, for fear of Charlotte and Allie overhearing. Emma had never seen Mark and we all avoided sharing targets’ full names, so she had no idea h
ow bad my head was spinning. I still wasn’t entirely sure this whole situation was real. How had he ended up here if he was an adjunct at UoC? Adjunct teaching didn’t pay all that well, and wasn’t always full-time, but from the way he’d talked at the Reading Lounge, teaching was his passion. He’d never mentioned a desire to take on a side gig screwing over women. But then again, why would he? As far as he knew, I was some girl he met in a bar, brought home, and almost got lucky with. He had a lot of nerve to look at me like he was pissed. Everything about him had been a lie.

  The four of us shuffled into Margo’s office, and as the door clicked shut behind us, Emma was the first to speak up. “How could you?”

  Margo folded her hands over her desk, that serene smile still in place. “This is a business decision. And it’s not going to affect you as much as you think.”

  Emma opened her mouth and the glint of the fire-breathing dragon that lived in her heart surfaced in her eyes, but Allie held up a hand to cut her off. “What do you mean, this won’t affect us? You’re bringing men into this office, and you swore up and down to all of us that this would be a women-only establishment. You promised us this would be a safe environment, and you broke that promise.”

  “Have I?” Margo asked, the picture of innocence. Like a vampire who hides her fangs so she can score an invitation into your house.

  “Why now?” Charlotte asked. “Why at all? What purpose will men serve?”

  “Fair question.” Margo poured us all tea, which I refused in case she tried to drug us into accepting this. I wouldn’t put anything past her at this point. “I’m glad one of you has an interest in what the terms of this arrangement will be.”

  “What terms?” Emma asked.

  Margo leaned forward. “They are to remain beneath you, for one. Brinkley.” I flinched when she addressed me. “Wouldn’t you say it’s a different kind of empowerment to have a man taking orders from you? Learning from you? Answering to you?”