Bat Out of Hell

by Bernadette Franklin

  I couldn’t see the problem with someone wanting to bring out the best in people in a world like the one we lived in. “I value my life and don’t wish to die at the hands of a fashion designer. But Jonas will save me. He’ll transform me into an entirely different person tomorrow after work. I just have to last until then, right?”

  “I wish you the best of luck with that. Jonas, do let me know how that works out for her. I think I’ll plan our coffee meeting to celebrate her survival. Keep me in the loop.” Jonas’s friend checked his phone. “The driver will be here soon.”

  I took that as my cue to get the hell out of his penthouse. I grabbed my purse, checked to make sure I had everything, and dragged Jonas out by his ear before I said something else I’d regret.

  The next time someone stupidly rich offered to get me a driver, I needed to remember they were too posh and egotistical to hire cabbies. A limo pulled up within moments of stepping outside of the condominium building. I stared at the sleek, black vehicle, and I heaved a sigh. “He got a limo, Jonas.”

  “Please tell me you weren’t expecting one of those random driver services.”

  “I totally was. That’s normal. And a lot cheaper.”

  “Well, I’m paying the bill, as I should. I did block you from catching your ride home.”

  “I wouldn’t say you blocked me. You lured me into playing ridiculous games all night long. Also, I really am going to budget to get one of those for myself.”

  “I already told you I’d buy it and the television needed. But in exchange, you must play with me at least once a month.”

  “While I’m not a good opportunist, even I can recognize a deal when it crosses my path. I want all of the car racing games and that zombie game.”

  “I’ll toss in a few good single-player games for you, too. You still into those puzzle games?”

  “Always.” I usually played on my piece of shit laptop, which really needed to be tossed into a dumpster and lit on fire. “Do you accept payment plans?”

  “You know what? I’m just going to go home with you and crash on your couch tonight. That way, we can talk about this scheme of yours. You have captured my attention.”

  I lived paycheck to paycheck, but with a little time and a lot of effort, I’d make a better situation for myself—and I’d be brave enough to ask for help. I would also ask for help without wallowing in guilt for doing it.

  Change began with me, and while I’d never live in a fancy penthouse with beautiful paintings, I could improve my situation.

  “My couch is always available for your use, but I make no promises you’ll like it.”

  “If I don’t, I’ll buy you a new couch, as I’m a spoiled rotten brat and can’t sleep on busted springs.”

  I wouldn’t tell Jonas about the busted springs—or where I’d initially gotten the couch in the first place. There were limits to how far I could push the rich boy. I had gone through the effort of detoxing it several times before using it, though.

  He’d survive. Probably.

  The limo driver got out and held open the door for me. Resigned to my unexpected sleepover party, I thanked him and climbed in, and Jonas joined me, taking the seat across from me. “This is insane, I hope you know. Some crazy stalker person is going to see us leave together and think we’re dating. Worse, they’re going to think we’re sleeping together.”

  “Almost everyone attending all three parties knows I’m hiding out in the closet. Those who haven’t heard it from me have probably figured it out.”

  “I guess you’re telling me I’m dense and blind.”

  “No, you just don’t give a shit about my sexual orientation. You’re also my sister’s friend.”

  “Your sister is a pain in my ass.”

  “While this is true, you still like her.”

  “She’s a crazy but fun pain in my ass, and she has an unexpectedly high tolerance for destitution.”

  “I’m now concerned about what I’m going to find in your apartment.”

  “You should have thought of that before inviting yourself over for the night.”

  “I should have. You’re right. I will quietly accept my punishment for my oversights. So, what is this payment plan you want?”

  “I have a cheap laptop that can’t actually do anything but use a browser and online apps, and it doesn’t even do a good job at that. I thought it might be time to get something a little better.”

  “What’s your budget?”

  “That’s the bad news.”

  “Just hit me with it.”

  “If I don’t waste money on things like costume parties, I usually have twenty or thirty dollars left over when I’m paid. But that’s only after a good week where I picked up extra hours.”

  Jonas winced. “Okay. That explains a few things. Mom had sent me a text asking if you were all right because, for a minute there, you looked like Juliette had ripped your heart out of your chest and stepped on it.”

  “I saved for two years to get this dress, and I made my budget as tight as possible to be able to afford it. And I cut it up for a costume party, and now a fashion designer is after my soul. I didn’t want to humiliate Clarissa, but then she showed up in an inflatable dinosaur costume.”

  “Which you probably couldn’t have afforded without warning anyway.”

  “But I could’ve shown up as a peddler or something. I could’ve grabbed my pennywhistle and played sad music in the hallway to collect change.”

  “You do not have a pennywhistle, and you would not do such a thing.”

  “Go ahead, Jonas. Try me.”

  “Please, no. I will do anything you want, just don’t go out on a street corner with a pennywhistle playing for tips.”

  I snorted. “Would a harmonica be a better choice?”

  “No.”

  “Ukulele?”

  “Definitely not.”

  “Hurdy-gurdy?”

  “Also, a no.”

  “How about a kazoo?”

  “What is wrong with you?”

  “Nothing! I’m just saying it’s worth considering.” I had mad pennywhistle skills, too. With boredom a constant enemy, I battled it the few ways I could, and trolling pawnshops for cheap instruments I could toy with helped battle my awareness of my inability to make any headway in life. “How about a harp?”

  The mid-sized harp had been my crowning achievement of pawnshop trolling, and my parents had gotten it restored for me as a Christmas present a few years ago. I’d never be able to afford a piano, but the harp worked wonders for my mood.

  “I’ll tell you what, Lee. You show up at a park with a harp and earn even a dollar playing, and I’ll buy you a good laptop for Christmas. When my family asks what is wrong with me, I will tell them I sold my soul to the devil tonight.”

  I played my best when tired as hell and relying on my fingers to do all the remembering for me, so I had some hope of suckering some kind soul for a dollar. “While I am at work, I expect you to pick up a period gown that should fit me. Then you will make me as pretty as one of the Penthouse Guy’s paintings, and we will go to a park, and I will play my harp for you, and should I get even a single dollar, you will buy me that computer afterward.”

  “Deal. Just don’t cry when you get booed off nature’s stage. I am also picking the park, and I will tell my friends about our bet, and they will not give you a tip unless you are a suitably talented performer. I’m going to tell my artsy friends. But if you’re lucky, a few of the ladies might get dressed up, so you don’t feel like a complete idiot. They’re nice people like that.”

  Jonas would pay for his lack of faith, and I’d enjoy it. “Deal.”

  Chapter Five

  Instead of the half-day shift I expected, my co-worker proved a no-show, and I bagged extra overtime, something I’d appreciate later. The holiday rush didn’t manifest, a miracle in my opinion. I thanked every god and goddess I could think of, figuring all of the religions must have gotten together for a respite of that magn
itude.

  The few customers who did come in wanted to play hardball, a challenge when I ran on fumes.

  Somehow, I made it through the day, and rather than having to take public transportation home, another miracle showed up in the form of Jonas and his beloved SUV. He even played the part of a gentleman and opened my door for me.

  “When you texted me that you’d be working a full shift, I got worried,” he admitted. “We can postpone the park appearance if you’d like. I won’t have you prettied up for over an hour.”

  “We made a deal, and we are going to the park, and I will play my harp, and I will not get a pity dollar from you, sir. If I earn my pity dollar, it will be on my own merits, thank you.”

  “I already bought the laptop. I got bored, and I figured if you didn’t earn a dollar playing your harp, we could make a payment plan for it like you wanted. The store would’ve closed before we’d gotten done. I bought the machine on my standards rather than yours, and I asked for some help picking a model a lady would appreciate. It’s stylish and works well.”

  Stylish and works well worked for me. “Are you sure you’re not an angel? I always thought you were a devil.”

  I buckled my seatbelt, and Jonas closed my door before circling his vehicle and getting behind the wheel. “I’m a little bit of heaven and a little bit of hell.”

  “That you are. Egotistical, too.”

  “It’s part of my charm. Are you really sure you want to do this tonight? You look exhausted.”

  “I will look exhausted but pretty when you’re done with me. It might help me get that dollar I need.”

  “Okay. I’ll let everyone know we’re on, then. We have an email thread. They’re impressed with your tenacity, at least.”

  “I was born tenacious. I refused to leave the comfort of my mother’s womb for over thirty hours. Honestly, I’m surprised she didn’t drown me as an infant for putting her through that.”

  “I have seen your baby pictures. You were far too cute to drown. Your mother also loves you dearly. I’ve heard the entire story. Several times. Spare me, please.”

  “That’s something.” I stretched my legs with a tired groan. “Uma is damned lucky I like her enough to take over her whole shift.”

  “Uma should be worshipping the ground you walk on. How was your shift?”

  “I think everyone went to late parties last night and were too hungover to go shopping today. The ones who came in, however, were grouchy. So grouchy. I expect the hordes will begin their attacks on their wallets starting tomorrow through the holidays.”

  Jonas snorted and drove in the direction of my apartment. “You’re probably right. It helps Halloween fell during the work week this year. Had today been Saturday, you would’ve been screwed.”

  “Fridays are usually bad enough, but I think you’re right about the hangovers. I feel hungover, and I only had a glass of sparkling wine. I needed that glass because of your sister. I needed it.”

  “Saw her dressed up as an inflatable dinosaur and decided only alcohol would get you through the night?”

  “Precisely.”

  “You’re incredible.”

  “No, I’m stupid for agreeing to attend that damned party.”

  “It wasn’t that bad.” Jonas grimaced. “Okay, it was that bad. It’s the first time I ever skipped a party in fear of watching my sister’s best friend meltdown because of an asshole man. When someone like you begs a complete stranger for an out like that, it’s bad. Really bad. Also, I had no idea you could reach that level of desperation.”

  “I came to the party with that as my game plan because I just knew it would be bad. I was expecting worse, but honestly, that didn’t happen only because I had a date with zombies instead.”

  “That sounds better than a date with a gay guy.”

  “Dates with gay guys are the best. They don’t expect anything other than a conversation and a good time, and I don’t mean the kind of good time where only one person enjoys what happens in bed.”

  “Under normal circumstances, I’d feel compelled to defend my gender, but after last night, I’m just going to nod, smile, and agree with you. I’m a lot of things, but I’m not stupid enough to assume ‘not all men’ will help in the slightest. Because talking down at you doesn’t help. You probably get a lot of men like that, don’t you?”

  “I have a strict policy about men now. No ring, no late-night extracurricular activities. The ring also comes with an expectation of marriage, preferably a set wedding date, a plan for the future, and solid evidence of commitment.”

  “That sounds surprisingly traditional and conservative.”

  “It’s neither. It’s a reflection of the fact I’m tired of little boys dressed in men’s clothing wanting in my panties. The no-ring policy ensures I don’t have to deal with that. I have a battery-operated boyfriend, and we have a good relationship.”

  Jonas huffed. “That was an overshare, Lee.”

  “But a necessary one. Like, seriously. Who has time for little boys dressed in men’s clothing? If I wanted to be a mother, I’d get married and have kids. Or adopt, not that I can afford the fees or a kid. I really can’t afford a kid. That is another reason for the no-ring policy. The no-ring policy prevents children I can’t afford.”

  “Ah. I see. It’s not conservative or traditional. It’s terrifyingly sensible and practical.”

  “Exactly. My budget would break if I attempted to add another living being to it. It wouldn’t just break, it would shatter. I definitely cannot afford any children.”

  “Not with an extra twenty or thirty a pay. I’m going to have to be very careful about who I introduce you to. A woman who understands how a budget works is a rare and special thing. My sister? She views budgets as general guidelines that her credit cards permit her to violate at will. And then she expects Mom to help pay off the bills when she finds she exceeded her general guidelines. Mom, being Mom, ultimately pays them. Yelling at my sister does no good, as she is above anything as mundane as a scolding from Mom.”

  “How about you?”

  “I’m not quite as bad. I try to limit parental bailouts to once a year at absolute most.” Jonas patted the steering wheel of his baby. “I shamelessly begged Mom for help with this acquisition, but unlike my sister, I promised to help run errands and use my vehicle for her benefit. That won me my precious.”

  “Who picked you up to fetch your SUV anyway?”

  “Mom. I told her about the period gown, and she decided she had to help. Unfortunately, there’s an issue.”

  Uh oh. “What issue?”

  “Juliette was over at Mom’s place when I called. She overheard the period gown conversation. I vaguely heard something about revenge would be coming in the background. She might show up at the park, but she won’t wreck your performance at least. She might give you ninety-nine cents, though. She’s evil like that.”

  “I can’t tell if I love her or hate her. She rolled on my feet, Jonas. She hugged my legs. I’m not certain, but I’m pretty sure she cuddled with the hem of my Prada.”

  “If she doesn’t give you ninety-nine cents, I would not be surprised if she found the same dress in your size and showed up with it. Sometimes, revenge for her comes in the form of a gift. Or, if you’re really unlucky, she’ll kidnap you.”

  “She’ll what?”

  “Kidnap you. She’s a repeat offender, but for some reason, no one ever presses charges. Mom’s gotten grabbed twice so far. In a year. This year, actually. Both hostage situations lasted about thirty hours, which is the average amount of time it takes for Juliette to do a wardrobe revamp for sizing, dressings, and experiments. Don’t tell anyone I said this, but Mom goes out of her way to be snatched.”

  “Is your entire family crazy?”

  “I’m waiting for my chance to be kidnapped, but she doesn’t snatch men often. I’m considering begging.”

  “But what if I miss work because I was kidnapped?”

  “Juliette is a considerat
e kidnapper. She waits for days off or finds a way to send in a temporary to cover the hours of her victim. She tends to meticulously research her targets. I suspect that has something to do with her dodging charges. If you don’t want to be kidnapped, you have to directly tell her you are unavailable for a kidnapping.”

  “Shouldn’t people always be unavailable for a kidnapping? We’re talking about kidnapping here.”

  “Juliette is not a sane human being. She’s a wonderful human being; She’s generous and wears her heart on her sleeve, but she is not a sane human being. She wants to change the world, and she doesn’t know how to do it for everyone, so she kidnaps people and changes their world for a while because it keeps her from feeling like a failure.”

  “Are we talking about the same woman here? Juliette Carter, the fashion designer, who headlines fashion magazines often, feels like a failure?”

  Jonas shrugged, pulled onto my street, and got lucky, finding a parking spot outside of my apartment building. “Are you sure you want to go to the park? You look exhausted.”

  “I play the harp better when I’m too tired to think. I will play even if it kills me. And I’ll get my dollar because my playing will be so awful people pay me to stop.”

  “It didn’t occur to me people might pay you to stop, and this makes me glad I got bored and already bought the laptop for you. Also, I have news for you.”

  I got out of Jonas’s SUV and narrowed my eyes. He got out, shut his door, and locked the vehicle.

  He stared at me. I glared back. “What news? It better not be bad news.”

  “There was a mouse in your apartment. We ran into each other in your kitchen. As such, if Juliette doesn’t kidnap you first, I am, and I’m going to move you into my condominium in secret. We won’t tell my family, as they will be jealous, but I can’t leave you in a mouse-infested apartment. Also, there was a package for you. As I was afraid the mouse might damage the package, I have the package in the back.”

  I had some bad news for Jonas. “That wasn’t a mouse. He’s a rat, and I’ve seen him before. As long as he stays out of my instruments, I don’t care he’s there. It’s not like I’ve had any luck getting rid of him. He’s too smart for the traps. Well, maybe there’s more than one of them.” There was definitely more than one of them, but they usually stayed in the walls where they belonged without bothering me much.