Cocky Delight: A Hero Club Novel

by Maria Macdonald

  “Tell you what, let’s go find you a job today rather than going shopping,” she says, her eyes lighting up.

  “Erm, no,” I reply. “I could do with a day off.”

  “A day off from what? The troubles and triumphs of Blanche the cat?” I stare at her as she snorts at her own joke.

  “Come on, it will be fun. You have a résumé, right?”

  I bite the inside of my mouth and weigh up my options. I do need a job and it would be more fun going with Aubrey than on my own. I sigh, “Fine, I suppose we can look for a job.”

  Aubrey brings her hands together in a prayer like pose. “Why, thank you, oh great one. It’s so kind of you to let me help you find a job.” She bows down, like I’m royalty and tilts her head back up at me with a flutter of her eyelashes.

  “You put your back out again?” Chance asks as he walks around the corner.

  I burst out laughing as Aubrey stands straight, narrows her eyes at him and barks out, “No I haven’t, thank you, Mr. Barstardo.”

  He shrugs, a smile plays on his lips and he grabs a bottle of water from the fridge. “It looked like you were in pain,” he says, circling her face with his finger.

  She grabs his finger, leans toward him and hisses, “If you don’t want me to snap off protruding appendages, I suggest you don’t point them at me and also remember to bite your tongue.”

  He smirks down at her like she’s no more dangerous than a baby kitten. Then again, cats aren’t the best way to describe a harmless creature, at least not in my experience.

  “You love my appendages, Princess.” He kisses the end of her nose and walks back out of the room.

  Aubrey stares after him like she can’t work out if she wants to rip his head off or lick him all over.

  “Okay,” I state, “job hunting it is.”

  Her body twists and her eyes snap to mine. “I have the perfect pair of shoes for you to wear with that outfit,” she smiles.

  Great.

  “Shoes, shoes, shoes, Aubrey!” I shout and she turns to see what the fuss is.

  We’ve been walking around, handing my résumé to various stores and restaurants, for nearly two hours. The lack of culinary degree – or any degree – is causing my feet pain, right now. Although I’d love a job in one of the many places we’ve visited, I’m currently losing the will to live and just wish my fairy jobmother would fly down and bestow the perfect position on me. I’d even give her these damn shoes if she asked.

  “Oh my God, do not tell me you have your heel caught in the grate,” Aubrey laughs as she walks back to help me.

  “You made me wear these stupid heels, why couldn’t I have worn my chucks?” I hiss at her as I bend over and try to wrench my leg away from the rusty grate in the sidewalk. People pause to stare at us, me holding my calf and Aubrey at my ankle. I’m sure we look like a comic duo.

  “Jesus H Christ,” I snap.

  “What does the H stand for? People say it all the time, but it must mean something, right?” Aubrey muses.

  “Really? Now is the best time you can think of to ask that question?” I reply, feeling a few drops of rain hit my face. “Ugh! Of course, it starts raining now. What did the weather report say today?”

  “Urm, sunshine all day,” Aubrey replies with a smile in her voice.

  “Perfect,” I complain, as more rain hits me.

  “Come on, wiggle your foot,” Aubrey huffs out as she tries to pull me free. The rain is harder now and neither of us are dressed for it. I have a pair of tan capri pants on and a brown cotton, short-sleeved blouse. Worse though, are the brown peep-toe shoes Aubrey lent me. Rain water is seeping in through the toe end and running along the underside of my foot.

  “Oh God, my foot feels squidgy,” I whine.

  Aubrey rears back, her eyebrows raised. “Your foot feels squidgy?” she repeats with a shake of her head.

  “Just help me up,” I hiss as the skies open and the rain pelts down harder. People stare at us from inside the coffee shop we happen to be stuck outside. I shoot them the bird and receive wide-eyed stares in return. Some people turn around and busy themselves, but one guy sitting at his table, a coffee in his hand, smirks at me. Suddenly Aubrey frees me and I surge forward, straight toward the coffee shop. My whole body thumps against the window right in front of the guy, who I can now see is unfairly hot. He’s grinning at me, so I push my arm up, between my body and the glass, not paying attention to the fact that everyone in the shop – even the baristas – are now watching me, and when my hand reaches somewhere between my breasts, I flip him off directly. He throws his head back and laughs. I narrow my eyes, but before I can do anything else Aubrey grabs my upper arm and drags me away from the window. I turn, look at the hot guy and thump my wrists together twice. He laughs again.

  Asshole.

  “Oh my God, I am so wet,” Aubrey breathes out the second we’re seated in her car.

  “Please, save the dirty talk for Chance,” I reply, wiping my face as water still trickles from my hair. “Plus, think of the kids,” I tell her, covering the ears of Obama the bobble head which sits innocently on her dash. She rolls her eyes at me, but her lips twitch with a smile.

  “I have to take these shoes off,” I complain, slipping the squelchy shoes from my feet and wiggling my toes. I wonder absently why I didn’t take the damn shoe off when I was trying to dislodge it. I’m sure the whole process would have been a hell of a lot easier and wouldn’t have resulted in me being suctioned to a coffee shop window, with the hottest man I’ve even seen in the flesh, laughing at me.

  Dammit.

  “How do you think I feel?” Aubrey replies. I look at her and smile. She’s wearing a yellow sundress which has white daisies on it. It normally hangs loose around her body and is really something you would typically use as a coverall for a swimsuit. Now, with the rain, the dress is stuck to her like a second skin, but more, two of the white daises are strategically stuck over her nipples.

  “You look like a yellow car with headlights drawing attention,” I tell her, nodding toward her chest.

  She purses her lips and I can’t help the bubble of laughter which comes out of me. My shoulder-length blond hair is stuck to my neck and face. I peel away the strands from my cheeks and grin at Aubrey.

  “I’m glad I tied my hair up,” she murmurs, looking back at me, “but then again, with your blond hair being all beachy and stuff, it looks good wet or dry. Like right now, you just look like you’ve come out of the surf,” she tells me.

  “All beachy and stuff?” I reply, raising my eyebrows.

  She shrugs, “I work the petite, curvy thing. You have the long legs, big breasts, blue eyes and blond hair, like a beach bunny.”

  I roll my eyes. “Whatever, come on, let’s get you back to the old goat.”

  “Hey! That’s no way to talk about Chance.”

  I shake my head but we both chuckle at her unfunny joke.

  “I’m so glad to be home,” Aubrey says as we pull into her driveway. She turns to me, “Are you coming in?”

  “Yeah, I want to grab my shoes,” I reply, looking down at my feet.

  “Yay, I’m so excited to get my wet, squelchy shoes back,” Aubrey deadpans and I can’t help but giggle.

  I get out of the car and tiptoe barefooted to her house.

  Twenty minutes later and my feet are dry, Aubrey has changed her outfit and leant me a pair of sweats and a light sweater. I have my thick hair hoisted on top of my head and secured with a band, and I’ve wiped all my make-up from my face. We’re drinking coffee and going over the schedule at the animal shelter she runs. I volunteer there whenever she needs someone to cover. This week, one of her helpers is going on holiday so I’ve offered my services.

  “We should be okay except for Tuesday and Friday. If you can help on those days that would be great. I really only need you Friday morning but I could use you all day Tuesday if you can do it?” she asks.

  “Not a problem, it’s not like I’m having much
luck finding a job,” I complain.

  “I’ve told you, I’m happy to pay you for your help at the shelter.”

  I rear back. “And I have told you, I will never accept any money for helping out at the shelter.”

  She smiles. “So stubborn.”

  I arch my eyebrow, but say nothing.

  “I have a job,” Chance states as he walks into the kitchen.

  “Are you just bragging?” I reply.

  He grins, “No seriously, Nola, I need someone to do the office work for my landscaping company. Book jobs, give the work out to my team leads, order the stuff the guys need, do invoices, answer phones.”

  “I get it,” I reply, holding my hand up for him to stop talking. “I also appreciate it, but I can find my own job. I don’t need you paying me for work you could quite easily do yourself.”

  His head jerks in surprise.

  “Work he does? Are you kidding me?” Aubrey injects, barking out a laugh. “I have to do all that crap and I hate it. There was a reason I gave up my office job.”

  Chance rolls his eyes. “This will be why we divorce. Please, save my marriage, Nola,” he says, holding his hands together in a prayer like stance.

  I look between them and notice they both seem sincere. I need the money and I have worked as an office manager before.

  “Wow, maybe I do have a fairy jobmother,” I mumble.

  “What?” Aubrey questions, squinting, but also smiling at me like I’m crazy.

  “Okay, that would be awesome,” I answer, looking at Chance. “Thank you,” I add.

  “I know Aubrey needs you on Tuesday and Friday next week, so come in Monday, Wednesday and Thursday and I’ll show you the ropes. You can start on Monday the following week. Do the hours ten until four work?”

  I open and close my mouth and blink back a couple of tears. “That would be perfect, thank you, Chance,” I choke out.

  He shrugs, like it’s all the same to him. “You’re doing me a favor and like I said, saving my marriage.”

  There’s a knock on the door. “Oh, here’s Kato, he’s one of my three team leads. You’ll be working closely with all three of them.”

  I nod as a little ripple of apprehension filters through my body. Is working for a friend not the biggest risk I’ve ever taken? Could I lose my friends and my job?

  “Don’t worry,” Aubrey soothes, almost instinctively knowing what’s wrong. Placing her hand over my own she gives me a squeeze, “You’ll nail the job, and if Chance gives you any grief, let me know and I’ll poison his dinner so he has a couple of sick days,” she tells me with a wink.

  “Nola is our new office manager,” I hear Chance saying, “so you’ll be getting whatever you need from her now.”

  “Really?” The deep, sultry and obviously insinuating tone says everything I need to know. I turn and my mouth hangs open as I recognize who he is… dammit to hell, standing there staring as me is Mr. Hotness from the coffee shop. He’s around six feet, his sculpted physique clearly earnt from his physical work. Black hair, slightly in need of a cut. His face is all beautiful angles, with unusual caramel eyes – unusual because this man has an oriental look, I would guess Japanese or Chinese American. He smirks at me and my nipples awaken. Fuck my life, he’s completely perfect. I hate him instantly.

  “So, you don’t speak? Is that why you use hand gestures?” he asks on a rumble of laughter.

  I do the only thing I can, the same thing I did to him earlier. I flip him the bird, before stomping back to my house to the rumble of his laughter behind me.

  This job is going to be fun.

  Chapter Three

  NOLA

  “So, how did yesterday go?” Aubrey questions as she takes a bite of her pasta.

  It’s lunch on Tuesday. I’ve spent all morning walking dogs and one of them decided to slip his collar and have a fight with a porcupine. Aubrey wasn’t impressed when we got back and Butch – the dog – looked altogether sorry for himself with needles sticking out of his face. The vet has been and fixed him up and now, this afternoon, I have to clean out the cat cages. I’m pretty sure it’s Aubrey’s way of punishing me. Luckily, all the cats here at the shelter are much nicer than the spawn of Satan I currently live with.

  “It was good,” I reply, turning to face her. “I didn’t realize his office was next to the beach gym though.” I fan my face and wiggle my eyebrows. “That is some view.”

  “Better be careful, I’m pretty sure Lance wouldn’t be happy if he saw you appreciating other men,” she winks at me. It’s lighthearted but I know deep down she doesn’t think much of Lance.

  Sometimes, I’m not sure I think much of him either.

  We began dating in high school. He was the lacrosse star and I was the drama queen. Not literally of course.

  I was actually the queen of drama club. There wasn’t a play I didn’t get involved in, a song I couldn’t sing or a part I couldn’t act. I sometimes wonder if Lance fell for me, or Sandy when I played her in Grease. Yes, clichéd I know, but I was trying to get noticed by the boy playing Danny. I didn’t realize back then that Danny’s little Zuko was more excited by Kenickie. I totally got it though, Kenickie was hot.

  Still, it led me to Lance. He had to assist with the production, painting the set and helping to fix stuff. It was his punishment for cheating on his mid-term test. Yeah, okay, he was kind of a douche back then. I frown and wonder if he’s actually changed at all. We dated for four years and then went on to different colleges. I left college early and so I never graduated. I had to leave though, someone needed to look after Gran.

  Lance and I met up again a couple of years ago. He asked me on a date and we kind of never stopped dating. Now I’m twenty-six, with a boyfriend who slightly annoys me.

  “It’s not like he’d notice,” I reply to Aubrey with a wave of my hand.

  “What’s he said about the house?” she questions, before popping more pasta into her mouth.

  “He wants me to sell it,” I answer, biting the top off of my chicken wrap.

  “Why? Does he finally want you to move in with him?”

  I shake my head. “I don’t think I’d move in with him even if he wanted me to. I mean, he flushes the toilet mid pee so he can race the flush.”

  Aubrey spits out her pasta and starts laughing. “What the actual fuck?” she says through her laughter.

  I scrunch my nose. “I don’t know, it’s odd. Plus, he wears socks in bed, like he’s totally naked, except for the socks. I just cannot seem to get past it.”

  “That’s why you won’t move in with him?” Her face lights up, she’s loving this conversation.

  “Well, it’s that, but then he’s never actually asked me either. Sometimes I think…”

  “Think what? Tell me,” she urges.

  I bite the inside of my cheek and consider how much to admit. There are thoughts I have, thoughts I’ve never voiced aloud before, not even to myself. “I wonder if we’re together because it’s the norm, it’s what we know.” I scrunch my nose and rub my temples. “Do you get what I mean?” I ask her.

  “I do get what you’re saying. Do you think he might feel the same?”

  Running my fingers through my hair, I take a second to think about Lance. “Probably. I mean, he doesn’t really seem interested in me, sometimes I feel like maybe I’m more of an annoyance. You know, he told me I should dye my hair, be a brunette. Apparently, I could get a decent job then, as people don’t take me seriously with this hair,” I tell her, flicking my wavy blond locks with my hand.

  “What a douche,” she murmurs and I nod in agreement. I’m sitting here with my friend discussing how much of a dick my boyfriend is.

  I start giggling and then Aubrey starts giggling, neither of us can seem to stop. It’s only after a buzz from the front door lets us know someone has just entered the shelter, that we finally calm ourselves.

  “I better go see what that’s about, good job I eat pasta cold,” Aubrey says, getting up from her
seat and leaving the room.

  I pull out my cell and look at the last thread of texts from Lance.

  Me: Hey, can we change the day we see each other this week?

  Lance: No. Why do you need to? What’s wrong with Tuesday night?

  Me: I will be at the shelter this Tuesday, I’ll be tired, I figured we could change the day for once.

  Lance: So, don’t work at the shelter. I don’t know why you help at that place anyway. It’s not like you get paid.

  Me: Not everything is about money.

  Lance: Maybe it should be, have you put the house up for sale yet?

  That was the last text. It irritated me and I really wanted to tell him to go sit on a pineapple, naked.

  I heave out a sigh. I have no idea why I’m with him and I think, maybe it’s time to let go, for both our sakes.

  “Well, that was a man who came in to tell me that his Uncle is really unwell and unfortunately he doesn’t think he’ll make it past the next week. He has a cat that no one can look after and he wants to drop it here tomorrow.” Aubrey sighs.

  “And no one can take the poor cat in? Like the loss of its owner isn’t going to be traumatic enough, they’re also going to dump the poor thing in a shelter?” I bitch.

  She nods and blows out a heavy breath. “Some people can’t look after the pets that are left behind.”

  “Bullshit,” I reply, “if I can look after the literal spawn of Satan, they can look after what is probably a much nicer creature.”

  Her lips twitch then spread into a smile. “You have a way with words, Nola, have I ever told you that?”

  I shake my head, but can’t help my grin. “Maybe once or twice after a special kind of cuss word has popped out of my mouth.”

  “Yep, usually when you’ve been referring to Lance,” she mutters.