Divine and Dateless (23 page)

“No problem.” He shrugged, dropping his gaze to his hands folded in his lap. “It happens sometimes.”

“I still feel really bad.” It took all my effort to lean in and squeeze his forearm. “If there’s anything I can do to make it up to you—” I paused, cutting myself off midsentence. What the hell was wrong with me? I should have stopped at sorry.

Bile projected into the back of my throat when I saw his vacant eyes light up, kind of the same way Jack had looked at me that morning when I was frying bacon.

I swear I saw a drop of drool hanging from his lip. “You can have lunch with me.”

Uh, Hell would have to freeze over first.

“W-well,” I stammered as my brain raced to come up with a lie. “I’d love to, but I’ve got these dietary restrictions, and I can't eat at many places.”

Especially not with people who are dripping fluids out of their brains.

“You pick the place," he said. "Maybe you can bring your dog.” He nodded to Jack before petting him on the head. My traitorous dog leaned forward, resting his jowls on Hammerhead’s knee. “You don’t see too many dogs around these parts.”

“Yeah, I guess not,” I mumbled. “I just wish he wasn’t so friendly.”

Hammerhead scratched the back of his neck, his facial features scrunching up as if I’d just asked him to recite the Periodic Table of the Elements, or maybe just add two plus two. “Huh?”

“Never mind.” I covered my ears as the cuckoo clocks started chiming the noon hour.

Poor Jack didn’t like the birds, either. He howled and howled in time to their obnoxious chirps.

Okay, Loveass. Time to see me now.

“We can grab a bite after your appointment,” Hammerhead said.

Damn. The boy didn’t take no for an answer. I briefly wondered if the person who’d stuck that hammer in his skull was an annoyed love interest.

“I don’t know.” I placed my hand on my stomach, groaning as I leaned back, pretending I was my grandpa after eating my grandma’s home cooking. “I’m still full from breakfast.”

He hung his head and his lip turned a pout like a child who’d just been sent to time out. “If you don’t want to go out with me, just say it.” His words punched the stagnant air with a jarring tenor that shook me to my core.

The cramped waiting room was awash in disapproving looks and clucking tongues. I felt the urge to duck, fearing everyone would start pelting me with rotten tomatoes.

“I’d love to go out with you,” I said through a frozen smile.

If by love, you mean I now have the uncontrollable urge to vomit all over the dirty, weather-worn carpet.

“Great.” His hammer jiggled as he stood, making a squishy sound as it scraped the wall again. “I’ll wait for you in the lobby.” He wiped the bloody smear down his pants and walked away.

Wow. My first date in Purgatory was going to be the date from Hell.

I walked into my creditor’s office after a short one-hour wait.

Maybe it was a good sign I didn’t have to wait as long as last time. Maybe Mr. Lovelace was ready to shit out whatever bug had died in his ass. Or maybe his scowling secretary wouldn’t have ushered me to my appointment if Jack hadn’t started peeing on the furniture.

“Hi, Mr. Lovelace.” My tone was dripping with syrup so thick, I was practically having an insulin overload.

He looked at me over the rim of his thick glasses. “So is this the dog?”

“This is Jack.” I did my best to keep a neutral expression on my face as I sat in the chair facing his desk. I didn’t like the way he’d sneered when he’d said “the dog,” as if the words left a sour taste in his mouth.

Jack sat beside me, and I instinctively started stroking the back of his neck, in case he was upset by my creditor’s bad vibes.

Lovelace rose from his chair and leaned his knuckles on the top of his weather desk. “He’d better be potty trained.”

I wanted to tell him his zipper was half-way down. Actually, I wanted to share a few more choice words with the jerk, but I managed to restrain myself as I spoke with frozen features. “He is,” I lied. His secretary obviously hadn’t told him about my dog’s accident in the waiting room.

I stroked Jack’s neck harder, cringing when I felt the vibration of his low growl beneath my fingertips.

Please don’t bite my creditor, Jackie. I already have enough to be sorry for.

“I’ve never liked animals.” He glared at my best friend as if he was carrying a case of the plague.

I turned up my chin, forcing a smile that nearly split my face in two. “That’s too bad. You don’t know what you’re missing.”

“Fleas, worms, chewed up shoes….” He pushed his glasses up the rim of his nose while fixing me with a smug expression. “Not to mention getting people fired from their jobs.”

Ahhhh, there’s that guilt trip I’d been waiting on. I cleared my throat and tried to flash another smile, but the longer I stared into his bug-eyed glare, the harder it was to maintain my ass-kissing, sweet-talking façade. “About that job. I don’t think I was suited for it anyway.”

“You’re right.” He sat down at his computer and tapped the keys. Then he motioned toward his ancient printer, which started spitting out a ream of paper. “I’ve found something better for you. I’m reassigning you to beautification.”

My spine stiffened. I didn’t like the smirk that played at his thin lips, as if he was hiding a dirty little secret. “What’s that?”

“Clean-up.”

My jaw dropped. “You mean I’m going to be a custodian?” I wouldn’t have put it past Lovelace to put me on toilet duty. Whatever the hell I’d done to him in our past lives had to have been pretty awful, because I was starting to think this guy had it in for me.

“More like a maintenance worker,” he said. “You’ll be assigned to a local park."

The tension which had coiled around my neck eased ever so slightly. Picking up trash at the park I could handle, especially as the people on level thirteen seemed to be pretty clean. I mean, some stranger had gladly picked up Jack’s poop for me the other day. Maybe park duty wouldn’t be so bad. “I guess that’s okay. Jack loves the park.”

“And he can help chase away the rats,” he said as he ripped the printout off the spool and began folding it.

“Rats?” I gasped. “I haven’t seen any rats on thirteen.”

He leaned over my chair with a smile, slapping the printout in my hand. “There aren’t any maintenance openings on thirteen. You’ll be on two.”

I shot out of my chair. “You’ve got to be shitting me!” I threw my hands in the air. “You can’t expect me to work on level two.”

“Why not?” He shrugged. “I do.”

I was so angry, I was barely aware of Jack growling. Apparently, he wasn’t fond of chasing rats, either.

“But cleaning up the slums?” I stepped forward, jutting a finger in my creditor’s hollow chest until he stepped back against the wall. “I don’t know what I did to you back on Earth, but this is totally unfair and you know it.”

Jack’s rumbling grew louder, taking on a dark, heavy tone that rattled my insides. My creditor cringed as he pressed his shoulders up against the yellowing paisley wallpaper.

I looked down at my snarling companion. “Easy, boy.”

Lovelace’s eyes widened as his gaze darted to Jack. “Tell your mutt to back off.”

When Jack barked and snapped, my creditor screamed like a little girl and shielded his eyes with his hands. “Get him out of here.”

Oh, great. The last thing I needed was to have to pay for my creditor’s stitches, especially considering I didn’t have any credits.

“Hang on,” I said, grabbing Jack’s collar and escorting him into the hall. “Wait here,” I pleaded before patting him on the head. My heart clenched when he flashed those big puppy dog eyes and whimpered.

I heard him whining as I shut the door behind me. I knew I needed to wrap up my business with Lovelace. It took all my willpower to hold back the tears when Jack started scratching on the door. I felt like ten kinds of shit for punishing him for his loyalty. What he really deserved was a big juicy steak for standing up to the man who was bent on making my life miserable.

My creditor was leaning on top of his desk, one leg draped over the side in a casual pose. At least he was trying to look casual. I wasn’t fooled. His lower lip still quivered, and I could tell he was trying to steady his hands as he clenched the sides of the desk with whitened knuckles.

He turned up his nose and flashed a triumphant gleam. “There’s an old adage we have in Purgatory. In life unchained, in death unjust.”

Huh?
Well, I had a whole fistful of unjust I wanted so badly to plant square in his face.

“If it wasn’t for your credit donor,” he continued with an indignant air, “you’d be living on level two, so consider yourself lucky you only have to work there.”

Credit donor?

I clenched my hands into fists and channeled my inner-bitch as I stormed up to him. “Nobody donated shit to me. God chose to put me on the thirteenth floor after
you
screwed up my credits.”

He raised a shaky finger, laughing. “Do you really think you’re that special God would make an exception for
you
? You were destined for the second floor, and that’s where you would have stayed hadn’t a donor stepped in.”

Hang on! I didn’t think you could donate credits once you got to Heaven, and the only people who would have been kind enough to part with their funds were my uncle or grandma.

“Oh, really?” I asked in a sing-song, mocking tone. “Who was my donor?”

His jaw dropped. “You mean the guy gave you over a hundred thousand credits and didn’t even tell you?” He walked over to a rusty cabinet. “Let me check your file.” He jerked open the drawer and pulled out a manila folder. Turning his back to me, he scanned the contents. “It doesn’t say he donated anonymously.”

Was he screwing with me, or did I really have a donor? And if I had a donor, who the hell would give me enough credits to jump eleven levels?

“Who did it?” I demanded, stomping a foot.

Outside the door, Jack’s whining morphed into a soulful moaning. Gah. He wasn’t just pulling at my heartstrings. He was shredding them to pieces!

“If you can’t figure it out,” he snickered as he put the file back in the drawer, “I’m not going to tell you.”

“You can’t do that!”

“Watch me,” he sneered. “Our time is up, Ms. MacLeod. I’ll see you in three months.” He jutted a finger toward the door.

“Three months!”

“After two preliminary consults, we only schedule quarterly visits.”

“Tell me, you jerk!” I raged, as my inner bitchzilla reared her ugly head. I was a heartbeat away from Going Tokyo all over his office and smashing it to pieces.

He strode over to the door and cracked it open. Jack’s snout wedged inside.

“Have a nice day, and put a muzzle on that dog.” He pushed me until my face was flush with the doorframe. For such a puny guy, he sure had a lot of strength. He threw open the door and shoved my backside. “Next!” he screeched as I stumbled into the hall.

O-my-freaking-God.

“Of all the nerve!” I huffed, but the jerk had already slammed the door in my face.

“I wouldn’t expect you city girls to understand the intra-quicksies of shoeing horses.”

Intra what?

I couldn’t believe I was sitting at a restaurant with Hammerhead, listening to the gory details of his death by angry horse. Luckily, the waiter had found Jack a steak bone, so he had finally stopped licking the dried blood off Hammer’s fingers.

Now that Jack was preoccupied, I had my new friend all to myself. Oh, goodie!

“How many horses have you shoed?” he asked me between bites of his fried chicken.

I rolled my eyes. “None.”

“Exactly my point.” He spewed a piece of meat onto my side salad as he spoke. Apparently, the guy not only had worked in a barn, he’d been raised in one, too. “Next time you shoe a horse….”

I waved my fork at him. “Which will be never, but go on.”

He held up three fingers, counting them down as he spoke. “Make sure you A: are not in a hurry, 2: don’t pick a temperamental animal, and C: restrain the horse.”

“Um… okay.” I picked at my mashed potatoes. Somehow, I wasn’t in the mood to eat my steak. I’d ordered it fully cooked, as in black shoe leather, as in no blood oozing from the meat. Unfortunately, the steak that came to me looked far too much like the stuff falling out of Hammerhead’s cranium.