Temping is Hell

by Cathy Yardley

  “No,” he said quickly, appalled. “Sleep it off, Maggie.” He hung up before she could try another approach, and he shut off his phone.

  He was still pensive when Yagi excused himself, heading to his own quarters. Thomas retreated to his bedroom, stripped off his clothes, and collapsed on his bed.

  Who else do you honestly think could love you?

  He pulled the cover over himself, frowning. No one could love him, knowing what he was. He stared at the ceiling, illuminated by the red glow of his alarm clock numbers. The room was like a cell.

  It didn’t matter. He didn’t need love. Hell, it was love that had gotten him into this mess in the first place.

  He was lonely, but he was alive. And he had bigger things to worry about than fucking loneliness.

  When exhaustion finally overcame him, he thought he’d dream of Elizabeth again. Instead, there was a husky laugh, a great smile.

  Ruby red hair.

  For the first time in a long time, he fell asleep with a smile.

  …

  Kate watched as her best friend, Prudence “Prue” Mikai, stalked around the red felt pool table like a panther stalking prey. She lined up a perfect shot, smiling with a mix of Zen serenity and a touch of beat-that smugness. “So tell me what’s wrong, chica,” Prue instructed, chalking her cue.

  Kate took a bitter draw on the Corona she’d been nursing for the better part of an hour, tasting the lime stuffed in the neck more than anything. It was warm, but she could only afford one, so she was trying to make it last.

  “Oh, the usual,” Kate said, watching as Prue worked on clearing the table with measured precision. “Stone broke. Hate my job.”

  “If you’re down, why the hell did you agree to meet with the douchetard?” Prue asked, her smooth, dark, coffee-complexioned face frowning.

  “Actually, I contacted Tadpole,” Kate said.

  This surprised Prue enough to have her miscue. “You called him? Why?”

  Kate sighed, finally picking up her stick. She didn’t know why she bothered playing against Prue—Kate was a haphazard pool player at best—but she liked hanging out at the bar, Thalossa, with its brick walls and buzz of conversation.

  “I needed a favor.” She lined up the cue, biting her bottom lip in concentration.

  “Something tech, I suppose,” Prue drawled. “Although I have to wonder what the kid’s gonna want in return.”

  Kate groaned. “Don’t remind me.”

  After a long moment, Prue leaned one shapely hip against the pool table. “You know, they will have to close down at some point. Wanna make that shot while we’re still in our twenties?”

  Kate hit the ball. It wobbled, careening off two others before sinking one.

  “Luck,” Prue said with a laugh. “Total slop.”

  “I’ll take what I can get.”

  “So will Tadpole,” Prue added. “What did you agree to?”

  Kate frowned, biting her lip again.

  “You’re blushing. This is bad,” Prue said. “You aren’t going to sleep with him, are you?”

  Kate jerked back, hitting the cue ball so it nudged forward two inches.

  “My shot,” Prue said, but didn’t lean over the table. Instead, she stood in front of Kate, crossing her arms. “There’s weird stuff at work here. C’mon. Air break.”

  They relinquished the table to a pair of wanna-be white gangstas who were probably college students, then headed out to the cool and quiet of the sidewalk. “Please, please tell me you’re not sleeping with him.”

  Kate tasted the sour bitterness of bile and beer. “I will throw up if you say that again. And no.”

  “So what’s the big deal?”

  “Agreed to a date,” Kate said, rubbing her hand over her face. “And I do not want to think about it.”

  “A date?” Prue’s brown eyes bugged out. “What, is he hacking into the Pentagon?”

  “Nothing that desperate,” Kate answered. “But he is going to come up with a scanning program for me in a rush. He basically said he’d drag his feet if I didn’t agree to go to dinner with him.”

  “He’s finally making his move,” Prue said. “I’d feel sorry for him, if he weren’t such an ass.”

  “He’s nice enough when he’s not being hyper. Or horny,” Kate said. “Just his own worst enemy, I guess.”

  “Uh-huh.” Prue’s gracefully curved eyebrow went up.

  Kate crossed her arms defensively. “He’s a nerd. He’s one of my people.”

  “So one of yours.” Prue agreed. “So why did you need the help of a hacker?”

  “For the job.” When Prue stared at her blankly, Kate rolled her eyes. “Fiendish. You know.”

  “You mean the job you don’t want? The job that sucks?”

  “It’s complicated.” Kate rolled her neck a little. “Gotta pay rent now, for one thing.”

  “What, you’re moving out already?”

  “No. Still living with my parents.” Kate frowned, seeing Prue’s surprised expression. “I’m paying them rent. Which makes sense, right? I mean, I lost my apartment, but I’ve got to pull my weight. I’m twenty-nine, not twelve.”

  Then Prue sighed, putting an arm around her shoulders. “You could live in my loft for free,” she said quietly. “You basically lived on my floor all through college anyway.”

  The instant, unconditional generosity cheered Kate more than the beer or anything else that had happened this week.

  “Thanks, Prue. You know I love you like a sister,” Kate said, swallowing hard against tears that were choking her. There was no way she could accept Prue’s generosity, though. In a weird way, it would probably make her feel like even more of a failure—the fact that Prue didn’t expect anything.

  Besides, it had been different when they were in college. Now, Prue’s chic, open loft was like a Zen monastery. Kate knew that, like sisters, the two of them would probably clash when it came to actually living together. She chuckled. “But I don’t think I could live in a vegan house. I need meat.”

  “This so sucks,” Prue said. “But at least they pay you well, right? The head guy, what’s his name… he owns the top selling video game company, and all those night clubs, and the clothing lines, and that crazy theme-park island for rich people. He’s got to be rolling in the cash.”

  “Yeah, he’s rich.”

  “I hear he’s hot, too.”

  “Hotter,” Kate said without thinking. Her skin tingled a little.

  “Really.” Prue wiggled her eyebrows. “Dish.”

  “He’s got these great eyes. Blue eyes,” Kate said, picturing him easily. “And dark brown hair with kind of a wave to it, like artistically mussed without being contrived about it, so he looks a little just-got-out-of-bed-but-I-still-look-sexy.” Then she remembered Maggie’s picture of him shirtless. “And the guy’s yoked. Seriously. You wouldn’t think it with the suit, and trust me, he works the suit, but…”

  Kate trailed off at Prue’s open amusement.

  “Somebody’s hot for bossman.”

  “He’s good looking is all I’m saying,” Kate answered, feeling her cheeks burn as Prue laughed. “Any woman with a pulse would fantasize about him. But he’s Mr. Corporate. Super successful, super rich, super everything.” She thought about the Basement Boys. “And his company is basically evil.”

  “You think all big companies are evil,” Prue pointed out. “Except for your dependence on Starbucks.”

  “Starbucks is the exception. They…” Kate took a deep breath. “We’re not having the Starbucks argument, Prue.”

  Prue laughed, a loud, rich sound. “Sorry. You’re too easy.”

  “The thing is… there are these guys I’m working with,” Kate said, and slowly, the words tumbled out. Prue’s eyes got rounded as she listened.

  “No lunch? No breaks? I bet they don’t get paid overtime, either, if that’s the kind of treatment they’re getting. ‘Contract workers.’ What kind of bullshit is that?” Prue spat out. “Don�
�t they have a union rep? You’ve got to tell somebody!”

  “Tell who what?” Kate countered, shaking her head. “I’m a damned temp. Who’s going to believe me?”

  Prue’s eyes blazed. “Still. You’ve got to do something.”

  “I’m doing what I can,” Kate shot back. “Come on, Prue. You know me.”

  Prue nodded slowly. “So you’re pulling a work-around.”

  “Just like at Uncle Felix’s—he always tried stupid stuff when it came to labor laws. I can fix this. Unfortunately, it means dealing with Tad.” Kate sighed. “Which I wouldn’t, but these guys really are in a bad situation. If I can help them get the work done faster, more efficiently, hopefully this asshole boss of theirs will get off their backs.”

  “You can’t save everyone.”

  “I’m not saving anybody,” Kate countered. “I’m just trying to help a little. A couple of Ho Hos and a text recognition program doesn’t make me Mother Theresa.”

  “So how’s the program supposed to help?”

  “They’re going through thousands of pages, looking for a symbol like this.” Kate pulled the page she’d let Tad copy out of her bag. “This guy, the Overseer, is going to punish them if they don’t find a match in a week. The computer will make it so much easier. I’m actually surprised Thomas didn’t think of it himself. I thought he wrote a video game when he was a kid, and that’s how he made his first million or something… He was a computer geek back in the day.”

  Of course, no computer geek she’d ever met looked that smokin’ hot, so she figured she was probably wrong on that one.

  Prue’s eyes narrowed, and she held the paper, staring at it. “This looks familiar.”

  “Lot of that going around,” Kate said dryly, thinking of Tad’s response.

  “No, I’m not kidding. This looks like something… Shit. Can’t remember.” Prue tilted her head. “Can I take this?”

  “Sure.”

  “I’ll send it to Nan Temper. I get the feeling it’s something mystic,” Prue said.

  Kate glanced at her phone, winced. “Crap. I’ve gotta go.” She gave Prue a quick hug. “Thanks. I needed a night out.”

  “Love you, chica,” Prue said easily, but her dark eyes were worried. “Come by the shop this week, ’kay? I’ll give you a reading.”

  “Sure.”

  “Oh, and Kate?”

  Kate turned. “Yeah?”

  “What are you going to do if they still get punished?” Prue asked.

  Kate’s stomach dropped, but she squared her shoulders.

  “I’m going out with Tadpole, of all damned things,” she muttered. “Trust me. I’ll do whatever I have to, to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

  Chapter Five

  True to his word, Tadpole had come through, or claimed to. She’d hoped to pick up the program and a scanner at his house and put off the date indefinitely. Instead, he’d arranged it like a prisoner exchange. He’d give her the stuff at the date.

  Blocked, she’d had no choice but to agree. She met him at Jack London Square, thinking they’d go someplace casual, like Roscoe’s Chicken & Waffles. Instead, he met her in the center of the square, then ushered her to Yoshi’s, the chic sushi bar/jazz club that had been an institution in Oakland.

  “Here? Really?” Kate said, her voice weak.

  Tad winked at her, guiding her with a hand at the small of her back. He was newly showered, his hair gelled into submission. He was also wearing a dress shirt that still held creases from being in the plastic package. He wore his usual sneakers, but otherwise he’d made a serious effort.

  Oh, God. He really thinks this is a date.

  She was wearing slacks, at least, and a definite, non-date sort of gray sweater. She pushed her glasses up on the bridge of her nose. “Did you bring the stuff?” she asked.

  He looked hurt for a second, and she winced. “Obviously,” he said, rolling his eyes. “You can get it after dinner, okay? Can you at least try to pretend like you’re having a good time?”

  She sighed. Save me from nerds in love. She’d been one once herself—but let’s face it, it was different for girl nerds.

  She let him open the door for her, tried to look suitably impressed when he gave their name and the waitress led them to their table. There wasn’t a concert, at least, although the buzz of chatter around them was still pretty loud.

  She did love sushi. That said, she was way too broke to pay for it.

  At least one good thing will come from this date, she thought.

  “So what’s it like working at the Evil Empire?” Tad asked, opening the menu. She noticed him glancing over the prices and frowning.

  “Could be worse,” she said, then grinned a little, thinking of her conversation with Thomas. It seemed like forever ago. Her cheeks warmed, and her stomach jittered.

  And that was just thinking of the guy. Ridiculous.

  “So… how’s the eBay thing coming along?” she asked Tad quickly.

  He puffed with pride and killed the next twenty minutes talking about his mint-in-the-box Star Wars figure enterprise, and how much money he was making. She let him ramble, forcing herself not to look at her cell phone to check the time.

  Finally, when their dinner was served, she took out her chopsticks, lovingly staring at the sashimi. Mmmmm. “So, was the scanner thingy difficult?” she asked, when she thought it was safe.

  “Pfft,” he said, preening a little. “Utter child’s play. Did you say they had people looking for this, piece by piece?” He sounded shocked, and disgusted.

  “I know,” she commiserated.

  “Epic stupidity. I don’t know how they’re making so much money if they’re doing bonehead stuff like that.”

  “Oh, they manage,” she said, then frowned. Maybe that’s how Thomas had made so much money at such a relatively young age. He wouldn’t be the first hot guy with absolutely no scruples. Maybe she needed to do a little more research on Fiendish.

  Maybe her people judge-o-meter needed to be recalibrated.

  “Let’s not talk shop, Kate,” Tad said, and to her surprise, he reached out and grasped her free hand. She dropped a fat slice of tuna in shock. “I’m really, really glad you agreed to go out with me.”

  She hadn’t really agreed so much as was extorted, but now probably wasn’t the best time to bring that up. “Um… well, I appreciate you writing the program and getting it to work,” she said. “The fact that you’re willing to throw in dinner on top of, um, helping me with my work is a huge favor.”

  He frowned. She tried to tug her hand away, but he tightened his grip. “I’ve been meaning to ask you to dinner for years,” he said, his voice low and hard to hear over the jazzy vibe in the restaurant. “I just didn’t have the opportunity. Now that I have… I’ve got a lot to say.”

  She pressed against the rounded back of her chair, almost tipping it over. “Octopus?” she said, offering him a piece, praying that he’d be disgusted enough to give her some space.

  “No, thanks,” he mumbled, looking into her eyes like he was trying to hypnotize her. “Kate… I think you know how much I like you.”

  “Um.” She felt like a butterfly on a T-pin, writhing in agony. “You’re a good guy. A good friend—”

  “Don’t, Kate. Don’t put me in the friend zone,” he interrupted, scowling. “I’d rather be an asshole than a ‘good friend.’ You might as well say eunuch.”

  “If you don’t let go of my hand,” Kate said, as his grip increased to painful pressure, “I’ll be calling you ‘asshole’ in a second, Tadpole.”

  “Why won’t you even give me a damned chance?”

  “Let go of me,” she repeated slowly, starting to feel a little nervous. Tad was persistent and annoying—but she’d never felt afraid of him before. There was something off about him tonight, something edgy and unlike him.

  “I think about you a lot,” he growled. “Ever since I started working with that thing you gave me, I haven’t been able to get you out of
my head.”

  She stared at him, aghast. Has he been drinking or something?

  “Is everything all right here?” a new voice intoned. She glanced over… then gaped. Thomas Kestrel. Standing there in one of his trademark dark suits, with a snowy white shirt and a tie the color of blood-red roses. He looked at her, eyes full of concern. “Hey, Kate,” he murmured.

  She couldn’t help it—she flushed. The guy’s drawl was like being drizzled with honey. Then licked.

  Tad, of course, noticed.

  “It’s between me and my girlfriend,” Tad said sharply… then got up, moving in like a missile.

  “Gack!” she protested, just before his thin lips locked onto hers.

  …

  Of all the jazz joints in all the sushi restaurants in all the world, Thomas thought, shaking his head with a combination of resignation and disgust as he watched the skinny, ugly guy paw Kate. Why did she have to walk into this one?

  Going to Yoshi’s had been his client’s idea, and given its proximity to his condo in the Havens, Thomas had thought it was a great one. He was looking forward to calling it an early night and getting more work done back at the suite.

  He was really surprised to see the red-haired temp Kate—and even more surprised to realize he was pleased when he recognized her.

  She was on a date, he noticed immediately. Though if her body language was any indication, she was none too comfortable with it. That probably shouldn’t amuse him, but it did. Her date was wearing a shirt whose collar bulged out with the tag he’d forgotten to remove. The kid was socially awkward and apparently tried to make up for it by being way too aggressive.

  And now, the kid was on Kate like a flea on a dog.

  If Thomas were a hundred percent sure of Kate’s response, he’d have dragged the kid off and shown him the door. A good part of him still wanted to—which, he admitted, was strange.

  Just protective, maybe. His mama would turn in her grave if she knew he’d pushed himself on a woman, or stood idly by while another man did. Besides, in a roundabout way, Kate was his employee—or the near occasion of his employee, as Yagi might say. Thomas was very, very protective of the people he thought of as his.