Yeah. He’d been saying that since she’d woken up on her couch, too. He was a man, and sometimes men weren’t the best gauges for such a life-altering experience. He’d said, his experience told him men tended to bottle up their fears because of societal pressure, but women were much better at talking about their feelings.
So between his otherworldly magic tricks and explaining what happened the night he alleged she fell off the rooftop at Sherry O’Tay’s New Year’s Eve party, he’d suggested they visit this group of women who called themselves OOPS.
And even though George didn’t remember tripping, she’d sat quietly and listened to him, absorbing and then listening some more. But she still wasn’t quite sure how this outlandish story had anything to do with her being an angel—which she still wasn’t sure she believed anyway.
Though, if she were honest with herself, small bits and pieces of the details of their conversation at her house were coming back to her now. As a for instance, this bit about how she’d fallen off the roof and he’d swooped in to catch her and had grazed her shoulder with his wings. Dex said that was what had turned her into an angel. His wing nicking her shoulder. That did sound a little outlandish, didn’t it?
But all the women sitting here in front of her had said similar things. Marty was bitten, Nina was, too, and Wanda…well, she was still a little hazy on how Wanda’d been turned, but they all had similar stories.
Cautiously side-eyeing her shoulder, she lifted her sweater and noticed a purplish bruise. But so what? That proved she’d been sideswiped, not turned into an angel.
Holding up a hand, she said, “Let me get this straight one more time so I’m super clear. I tripped and fell off the roof and you caught me before I hit the ground. Like total splat, right?” She ran a finger across her neck to mimic death.
Dex nodded his dark head, his face grim. “Yep. That’s exactly how it happened.”
Squinting her eyes, she asked, “And because you grazed me with your angel wings, you turned me into an angel, too.”
“Also correct,” he said in his deep, rumbly voice.
“But you claim I’m not actually dead-dead, right?”
He obviously paused to give that thought before he said, “Technically, I don’t think so.”
“But if you saved me and I’m not dead, problem solved, right? How can I be an angel if I’m not dead?” Come to think of it, how could he be an angel and still wandering around down here? Wasn’t he dead, too?
“Wrong,” Nina barked with a cackle. “You’re in no matter what, little lady. That option’s off the table. You’re half angel now, like it the fuck or not. That means half of you gets a halo and wings and who the fuck knows, maybe even a goddamn cloud.”
“Nina’s right,” Dex confirmed. “While you might not technically be dead because I saved you, I nicked you with my wing—a wing full of magic, if you will—and therein lies the rub. I turned you into an angel by accident, George, and I can’t take it back.”
Frowning, George hugged the pillow tighter against her middle. “So big deal. Because you nicked me with your magic wing, I have a bruise that will fade. What does that mean? I don’t feel any different. Not at all.”
Wanda patted her hand and smiled her pretty smile. “It means you have to become a guardian angel, George, honey. You don’t have a choice. Or wait. You do have a choice, but…” She paused and looked to Dex for clarification.
Dex leaned forward, his eyes direct. “Wanda’s right. You do have a choice. Sort of.”
She gulped a swallow, hard and full of trepidation. “Sort of?”
Dex let out a bit of a sigh—not one of exasperation, mind. One that said maybe he’d given this speech often. “Uh-huh. As I explained, you can opt out and go upstairs and work in one of many different departments after someone chooses what best fits you and your skill level.”
Now some of this was starting to hit her, coming back in waves. Still without much impact, but she did feel a little twitch of electricity slither through her veins when he said she could opt to go upstairs.
“By upstairs you mean Heaven, right?”
He looked at her for what felt like forever before he nodded, a lock of his dark hair falling rakishly across his forehead. “Right.”
Yep. Now this was starting to sound nutty. There really was a place called Heaven? Really and truly? How could she even begin to come to terms with an age-old question finally answered, let alone believe she was a part of the inner workings?
But that also meant there was a Hell…
George shook her head. That was too deep to delve into for the moment.
“What’s my other choice?” she coaxed on a dry squeak.
“Or you can stay here and be a guardian angel like me.”
Interesting… “How does that work? What do I do?”
“You’re assigned cases and you help guide people to a satisfactory conclusion.”
That sounded like something that had come out of a travel pamphlet. Yet, she was curious. “Do I get to pick my cases?”
“If only,” he muttered, then straightened. “No. You’re assigned case by case.”
Oh. But wait…
If Dex had been with her for almost a year, that meant she’d been pathetic enough to be assigned a guardian angel who’d had to come to Earth to deal with her. Didn’t it?
“Does everyone have a guardian angel?”
Now he beamed a grin, his chocolate eyes dancing. “Uh-huh. Some more present than others,” he hedged as he appeared to realize the trap he’d stepped into.
So whoever was in charge did think she was pathetic. Licking her dry lips, she asked, “And why were you assigned to me, Dex?”
He shifted uncomfortably before running his palms along his thick thighs. “Because everyone needs a little help from time to time, George. That’s all this year has been. A little help from a friend.”
His answer was quite pointed, and it was then she realized he probably knew everything.
Everything.
And it was also then she wanted to die. Curl up in a corner and die. Not because she’d just seen something so spectacular it was literally unbelievable, but because Dex knew.
It was wrong to assume these women knew her secrets, too, but that Dex knew left her feeling exposed.
Yet, she forced herself to sit still and not squirm in extreme discomfort. “Who assigns the cases? Whoever’s in charge upstairs? My dry cleaner? You?”
His lips thinned a little before he smiled. “A superior from upstairs.”
“Why hasn’t that superior come and talked to me to give me my assignment? They’re my superior, too, right?”
Dex smiled reassuringly at her. “When your wings show up, you’ll know your assignment. Trust me, George.”
She fought another bout of skepticism and stared at all these pretty, well-dressed people who were waiting for her to have a breakdown, determined not to have a breakdown.
“Okay, so what if I don’t want to be a guardian angel? I mean, c’mon, Dex. You know what my life is like and all the stupid mistakes I make. If you’re my guardian angel, you know my judgment is beyond impaired. I do foolish, impulsive things. In fact, I’d bet that’s why I have a guardian angel—because I’m not exactly a sure bet for sound choices. How can I be trusted with another person’s well-being when I can’t handle my own issues, Dex? That’s crazy.”
She knew who she was. Make no mistake. She was insecure and clumsy, sometimes awkward, and a people pleaser who tried way harder than she should to fit in wherever she needed fitting—mostly to her detriment. Who’d want those qualities in a guardian angel?
“That’s why I’m here, George. To help you learn how to be a guardian angel.”
He said that as if he’d made some huge difference in her life. Um, hello. Not the case at all. She was still the same girl she’d been a year ago. Still single. Still trying to be someone she wasn’t. Still lonely but for Gladys. George shook her head to ward off the sadness, a deep, bone-weary sad
ness…
Anyway, and in other words, nothing had changed since he’d been on duty as her angel, except now she had wings.
Whoop-whoop.
George made a face. “You’ve been my guardian angel for a year, and I don’t want to bang on you and your job performance because you know how much I like you, Dex. I mean, we’re friends of sorts. I love our coffee breaks together and the seniors adore you, but how am I any different than I was last year? How can you teach me to be an angel when you haven’t exactly turned my life around?”
“Ouch,” he said, rubbing the spot on his broad chest where his heart was located. Still, he smiled. “But I beg to differ, Ms. Maverick. You might not know it, but you have changed. It hasn’t been a lot, I’ll admit, but you’ve changed. Mostly in the way you handle confrontation and don’t allow people to take advantage of you. Well, mostly. Forget that and focus on the positive. For example, who’s no longer letting Bunny Hoffmeyer steal her assigned parking spot at work?”
That was fair. He had talked her into rationally confronting Bunny and putting her foot down. Some days, George’s job required she carry a lot of bulky things into the building for events she planned for the seniors.
Bunny Hoffmeyer was notorious for showing up to work forty minutes earlier, sliding into her space and running off to hole up in her office in HR before George could get a word with her.
Bunny knew what she was doing. Believe that. It’s why she’d locked herself in her office and told her secretary not to disturb her. Yet, George had poo-pooed Dex’s suggestion that she talk to Bunny and try to work things out. It was easier to simply avoid a confrontation and walk from the parking area for visitors.
Until…she’d twisted her ankle in a pothole in the general parking lot, almost two blocks away from the senior condos, and dropping an entire sheet cake for an anniversary party Mr. Butler had secretly planned for his wife. She’d been so angry, she’d cried.
But rather than confront Bunny, who was loud and intimidating, George had gone back out and bought an entirely new cake at her own expense.
As a result, she’d been a solid two hours late for work. When Dex had seen how distraught she was, he’d given her a good talking to, then he’d given her a helpful tip on how to approach Bunny. He’d even gone with her as support.
George didn’t like it, but she’d done it because she’d earned that parking space one difficult senior at a time, and Dex had convinced her it was her right to stand up for herself.
So she nodded her head and gave him a thumb’s up. “Yes, yes. You helped me score my parking space peacefully, and no one was challenged to a fist fight in the parking lot.”
“Exactly,” he said on a bob of his head. “Also, do you remember Kevin Beasley and the infamous baloney sandwich heist?”
Her eyes narrowed in a rush of anger. Ooo, Beasley the Baloney Sandwich Bandit. Man, he’d chapped her ass.
“That jerk. He was forever taking a bite of my lunch and putting in back in the plastic container like his filthy fingers had never touched it. Oh, he made me so mad,” she grated.
“You let a dude nibble on your fucking lunch and he isn’t dead?” Nina asked, clearly aghast.
George cringed and winced. “Well, I didn’t let him-let him. I mean, I—”
“You caught him red-handed and then instead of telling him to stop taking bites of your lunch because it’s unsanitary, you offered to make him one, too, to avoid an awkward confrontation, George,” Dex gently scolded.
Nina’s gorgeous almond-shaped eyes bulged. “You did what? I woulda shoved that motherfluffin’ baloney sandwich so far up his ass he wouldn’t shit right for a damn year. What the fuck kind of pushover are you?”
George slapped her hands on her thighs and nodded with vigor. “That’s exactly my point. I’m a total pushover. How can I be a guardian angel when I’m such a pushover? Who knows what kind of riffraff could end up in Heaven because of me and my pushoverness?”
Nina gave her a light shove with a frown. “Don’t agree with me, nitwit. Push the fuck back. That’s what we should be giving you lessons in. Standing the fuck up for yourself.”
But Dex held up his hand. “Well, hold on now. She got it together and told him if he didn’t stop taking furtive bites of her lunch, she was going to report him to HR for unsanitary work conditions, and he knocked it right off. The point is, she finally stood up for herself.”
She sat back on the puffy couch and sighed. “Fine, I stood up for myself more in the last year. Big deal. That doesn’t make me guardian angel material, Dex, and it doesn’t make you some kind of miracle worker. You didn’t save the world. You saved a baloney on white with cheese.”
“It is a big deal. If you only knew how big, George,” he said, and he sounded really tired when he said it, making her feel as though getting her to the point of willingness to save a baloney sandwich had been torture. “Regardless of the pace at which you’ve grown, you’ve grown.”
“Forget the baloney sandwich and Bunny Hoffmeyer. Didn’t you say I had choices?” She only vaguely remembered that had been an option. “What are the other choices available?”
He pointed upward with his index finger, where a beautiful silver and white chandelier hung, illuminating the living room. “Like I said, you can opt to go upstairs, skip the whole guardian angel thing, and take a job in the sky, if you’d prefer.”
Her stomach lurched. “But what happens to everything here? All of my things? My house? My car?” She’d worked so hard to buy her cute little three-bedroom two-bath. Then she gasped, her heart clenching in her chest. “Gladys! What happens to Gladys?”
“You forego those things, George. All earthly possessions are left behind,” Dex said softly.
Meaning, she’d have to leave the one thing that had saved her life.
Literally.
Chapter 3
Her dog was the most important figure in her universe, and while some might find that as pathetic as they found her, George didn’t care. Her heart nearly pounded out of her chest at the idea of leaving Gladys behind.
“But if I become a guardian angel, I can stay here—with her—with Gladys?” She whispered the question, afraid she might burst into tears.
No way she’d leave the one and only living creature on the planet who loved her unconditionally. Gladys was her best friend in the whole world. Not a chance she’d choose even Heaven over her dog.
George paused mentally for a moment at how crazy that thought was. Not the bit about her dog, but about what was up in the sky.
Heaven.
Heaven.
A darkness fell over Dex’s chiseled face for a brief second, but it cleared right up as he nodded. “You can stay here, yes. You’ll have to make periodic trips upstairs for check-ins, but otherwise, you’re here for a purpose. To help others. That requires you stay on this plane.”
“Right,” she mumbled, picking at her lip. “But what about my job? What about the seniors? Can I keep my job?”
She loved her job. She loved coordinating events, trips, and outings for them. She didn’t want to leave them. Not yet. Not before she could organize the trip to Atlantic City and the spring dance.
He grinned, really smiled for the first time. “What do you think my job is about? It’s a cover for what I really do, George. You’ll need one, too. It might as well be the job you already have.”
“Right, a cover…”
Leaning farther back into the couch, her head spinning, George took a deep breath as the magnitude of what had been happening in her life for almost a year without her knowledge took a firm hold.
The past year had all been one big laugh, and the joke was apparently on her. The people upstairs must think she was some kind of head case if Dex had been her guardian for a year and her progress had been so little. Yet they were going to entrust her to be a guardian herself?
Somewhere in the process of all her questions, Marty must have asked someone to make tea. A short, stately man with a th
atch of thinning blue hair and a formal crisp black suit and silver ascot entered the enormous living room, a tray with a steaming teapot and cups in his hands.
“Tea, miss? To warm your bones. Surely they’re chilled on this beautiful winter’s day?” he asked with a charming British accent, hitching his jaw to the tall, great room windows where snow fell at a rapid pace.
But he didn’t wait for her to answer. Instead, he set the tray down on a large rustic oak coffee table in a butternut stain that matched the flooring and began to pour, offering the delicate floral cup to her with a warm smile.
She took it, and tried not to stare at his blue hair. “Thank you…”
He stood back and put his hands behind his back with a warm smile George felt to her toes. “Archibald, Ms. Maverick. I’m Archibald, or Arch, if you prefer. The glue that holds these fluffernutters together. I cook. I clean. I occasionally help with a case when needed. I am a jack of all trades, master of many.”
George held the teacup in her hands, welcoming the warmth of the liquid, and asked, “Are you…paranormal, too?”
His blue eyes, lined with age, twinkled. “Indeed, mistress. Or, I am again, I should say. Quite recently in fact. I am what one would call a troll. Hence the blue hair, of which I’ve grown quite fond,” he said with a gurgle of a chuckle. Then he straightened and sought to capture her gaze with his. “Now, fear not, for you’re in the best of hands. They’re loud hands, argumentative hands, chaotic and, in the case of my Nina, foul-mouthed hands without doubt, but rest assured, they are the best in the business, my dearest girls are. If you can bear the tumultuous rumble of dissent at every turn, you’re going to be just fine.”
She’d address the part about him being paranormal again and a troll later. Paranormal overload was becoming a thing. Yet, for some reason, for some odd, unexplained reason, hearing Archibald’s words brought a small peace George sorely needed right now.
At first she’d been pretty calm, but the deeper she dove into this, the more she heard from Dex and these women, the further she fell down the rabbit hole where fear was sure to latch hold of her if she gave it the opportunity.
Accidentaly Divine Page 3
