Temping is Hell

by Cathy Yardley

  It was his own fault for letting it go for so long. Damn, you’ve been dumb about this woman.

  “Maggie, you’ve crossed the line and then some.” He was too exhausted to even yell at her. “This is it. I already told you, if you’ve got a problem with my hiring Kate, you don’t have to come in to the office. Now I’m telling you—you can’t come in anymore. You are officially fired.”

  “You can’t fire me!” Maggie sounded scandalized. “You promised Elizabeth…”

  “I promised Elizabeth I’d take care of you,” Thomas corrected. “I can take care of you and your bills from three thousand miles away.”

  “Three thousand miles?” she repeated, aghast. “You’re… you’re getting rid of me?”

  “I’m sending you back to North Carolina. I’ll take care of your housing; I’ll pick up reasonable expenses. You won’t starve and you won’t be homeless. But I am tired of your fucking around, Maggie.”

  Maggie was silent—for all of about two seconds. “You don’t mean that.”

  “I promise, I do,” he said, feeling numb. “Don’t test me. And don’t make me tell security to throw you out, either.”

  “You wouldn’t dare!”

  “Yeah, I really would.”

  She was quiet for another long moment. Then he heard her sniffling. Apparently, it was finally sinking in.

  “You are the cruelest bastard alive, Thomas,” she said, her voice breaking. “You know that? And I’ve wasted so much time on you.”

  “Well, now you can go pursue something you’d like better,” he said, wishing he could wrap this up quickly—he got the feeling once she was wound up, she’d be able to draw out the death throes for hours. “And I have to go.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry I’m inconveniencing you!” she snapped. “Maybe you don’t want to pay for my bills, either. Maybe you just wish I was dead!”

  “Don’t,” he snarled, the trigger hit before he could stop her. “Don’t you even try to make a comparison with Elizabeth here.”

  “Why not? Maybe that kind of weakness runs in our family,” she taunted. “Maybe you’ll be responsible for two deaths. Am I still inconveniencing you now?”

  “Damn you, Maggie,” he said. Then, resolutely, he hung up the phone.

  “She’s got quite the vocal range,” Yagi noted, wincing. “And a flair for emotional blackmail.”

  “She’s just winding up,” Thomas said with an exhausted sigh. “The tantrum she’s about to throw will probably make most operas look like a sitcom, but too damned bad.”

  His cell phone started ringing frantically. He shut it off. He saw Maggie’s number on his display on the landline. He ignored it.

  Picking up another line, he dialed Kate’s extension instead.

  After a few rings, she finally picked up. “Kate O’Hara,” she said, crisp as a new dollar.

  “Settled in?”

  “Oh, hey, Thomas.” She sounded surprised. “Need something?”

  “Got a pen?” He waited a beat, then continued. “Good. I want you to call building security and tell them that Maggie Stillson is no longer allowed in the building. Then I want you to call the management at my condo complex, the Havens. Tell them I need a team to pack all Ms. Stillson’s things.”

  “Oh?” He heard the scratch of pen across paper. “Um, okay.”

  “Then there’s a file of real-estate holdings—it might be in Maggie’s office, or in her shared drive on the computer network. At any rate, I own a condo complex in Asheville, North Carolina. I want you to call the building and have a condo set up. Then I want you to call a moving company to take the packed belongings from the Havens to the new location in North Carolina.”

  “Okay.”

  “And I want it done by today.”

  Kate paused for a second. “Today. You got it.”

  See? he thought as he hung up the phone and shut it off, ignoring Maggie’s continual calls. No tantrums, no shenanigans, no bullshit. He said what he needed done, and with a quick today-you-got-it, Kate was on it.

  He should have fired Maggie years ago.

  If I’d met Kate sooner, maybe I would have.

  An aftershock of guilt pricked at him. “I want Maggie’s North Carolina condo to have top security,” he told Yagi, who was already on his cell phone, nodding. “I don’t want her near me, but I don’t want Cyril trying to hurt her to get at me.”

  Yagi snapped his phone shut. “Taken care of. Were you planning on letting her know by messenger, or in person? I might need to hire a special bodyguard if you were planning on evicting her face-to-face.”

  The hint of amusement in his voice had Thomas grimacing. “No, I can handle it. But it’s got to be face-to-face. I owe that much to Elizabeth—and to Maggie. Honestly. I just want to make sure she doesn’t do something stupid, like torch the building or go after Kate.”

  “Of course,” Yagi said, heading for his own office.

  Thomas felt sure the Asian sage was gloating. He chose to ignore it. Feeling relieved, almost ebullient, that things were finally going smoothly, he managed to get in a few good hours of work until the manager of the Havens called.

  “Mr. Kestrel,” the manager, Ronald Parker, said in a quavering voice. “You might want to get here. There’s been… an incident.”

  Two hours, Thomas thought. He’d managed to avoid Maggie drama for two hours. Just think how peaceful it’ll be when she’s finally gone. “Don’t tell me. Maggie Stillson’s caused some sort of trouble, right?”

  There was a shocked pause. “I… I wouldn’t put it that way e-exactly,” he stammered. “How did you know it was her?”

  “She’s a little upset because she’s not going to be working at the company anymore,” Thomas said. “Did you get a call from my assistant?”

  “She left a message,” the man said, still sounding agitated. “But, given the circumstances…”

  “I promise, I’ll pay for any damage she might have incurred.”

  The man cleared his throat. “Sir,” he said, his voice more firm. “There’s been… an accident.”

  Thomas felt a little twist of alarm in his gut. He turned his phone back on.

  There were five messages from Maggie, he noticed. Then one text.

  You can’t throw me away.

  “Fuck,” Thomas said, his skin going clammy. His stomach twisted hard. “What accident, Ronald?”

  “Ms. Maggie jumped from her balcony.” Ronald swallowed audibly. “The EMTs said she… died on impact.”

  Thomas barely heard anything else the man said. “I’ll be back directly,” he said, his own voice sounding distant. He hung up the phone, staring at it. He glanced over at Yagi. “We have to go. Now.”

  Yagi took in Thomas’s grave expression. “What happened?”

  “Maggie.” The word was hollow, just a faint echo, muffled by numbness. Thomas swallowed bile. “Looks like it’s too late to stop her from doing something stupid.”

  Chapter Twenty

  After gleefully arranging for Maggie’s relocation, Kate decided to wander down and check on the Boys. To her surprise, the documents were gone, the scanners were gone—the Boys were gone, except for Slim, who looked as if he were waiting for her.

  “I’d hoped you would make it,” he said, sounding relieved.

  “So the contract’s closed, huh?” Kate asked.

  Slim looked at his feet, his hands in his pockets. “We found all the names,” he said. “A lot of the others were getting antsy, anyway, with all the…” He gestured toward the ceiling.

  “What? All the building?”

  “All the souls, Kate,” Slim said gently. “It’s like having a bunch of thieves just a few doors away from an open vault. The temptation to just reach out and grab a little is overwhelming, even though it’s nearly impossible to possess someone from a constructed body.”

  “But not tempting for you,” she noted.

  “No. Not for me.” He smiled. “I’m on this plane quite a bit, though, so it makes it a
little easier.”

  “Here. A going-away present.” She reached in her pocket, pulled out a Lindor truffle. He popped it in his mouth, then smiled.

  “It’s good,” he said. “Though I still think Ho Ho’s are my favorite. If I could bring them with me, I would probably rule a small corner of Hell.”

  “Don’t I know it,” she said ruefully. “So everybody else is gone?”

  “I’m the last one,” he said.

  “How do you get home?” she asked. Nobody had given her any details, and she was curious. Was there like a Stargate thing? Did they just open a portal? Maybe the building was built on a Hellmouth, like on Buffy?

  He shook his head. “No. They just remove me from the… vessel. You know. Disconnect the construct, that’s all.”

  “How does that work?” she asked, bewildered.

  He shrugged. “You can watch, if you like. But I understand it can be a bit… upsetting.”

  She’d seen pretty gross things, but it couldn’t be worse than anything she’d suffered at Victor’s. She shuddered. “Well, maybe we can work together again sometime,” she said, then impulsively gave him a hug.

  He froze, his body completely wooden. Then, awkwardly, he patted her on the back. He was still smiling.

  “You are different,” he said. “I don’t think you should watch me leave. It would upset you, and I find I don’t want you upset. But I am glad we got to say good-bye.”

  “All right,” she said.

  “I think I will look for contracts near here. I hope we get to work together at some point, as well,” he said, and to her surprise, he bowed to her, a small, oddly formal bow. “I will… miss you, Kate O’Hara.”

  “I’ll miss you, too, Slim.”

  “Ah, that’s touching,” Al said, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he entered the room. “But it’s this one’s time to go.”

  “Good grief, Al, is that—”

  Before she could say anything more, Al took a surprisingly quick step forward—and stabbed Slim in the chest.

  Kate screamed. Slim stiffened, then glared at Al.

  “That was unnecessary,” he reprimanded, his voice slow and hoarse, and then he looked at Kate. “Don’t worry. It only… hurts… for a second.”

  Then he took a step back—and exploded into flames.

  She screamed again, until she no longer noticed it. Until her throat was raw from it.

  It didn’t take long—it was like that magic flash paper, a quick burst of flame, and he disappeared, in a poof of smoke and ash.

  “Hmph. That takes care of that job,” Al said. “And would you stop screaming? I can hear fine, don’t let the wrinkles fool you.”

  She stopped screaming, mostly because she didn’t have any scream left. Tears were flooding down her cheeks.

  “It was a demon,” Al said impatiently. “No one cries for demons, you twit.”

  Her hand shot out, slapping the old man across the face.

  “He was my friend, you asshole!”

  Al took a step toward her, knife still in his hand.

  “What are you gonna do?” She didn’t back down, too angry and too hurt to give him the satisfaction of cowing her. “You gonna kill me, too?”

  For a split second, his eyes looked bloodthirsty—and tempted. Finally, he took a deep breath.

  “I didn’t kill him,” Al said through gritted teeth. “I sent him back. That wasn’t a real body; it was a construct, from a spell.”

  “A… fake body?”

  He gave her an exaggerated nod. “Yes, a fake body. It’s just a container for the demon.”

  She looked at the pile of ash where Slim was a second ago. “You’d think they’d be a little more sturdy.”

  “You are an idiot,” he muttered. “They only burn like that when there’s a demon in it. Otherwise, they just seem like bodies.” He muttered a few more derogatory things, but she was too distracted to hear them.

  “So you gave him a loaner body,” she said, finally getting a grasp on the concept. “Does that mean—could you bring him back?”

  “Of course I could!” he snapped.

  “So why don’t you?” she snapped back.

  “Because I don’t need it anymore.” He rolled his eyes, then turned his back. “Asinine woman!”

  He shuffled off, leaving Kate standing there, eyes red, throat sore.

  She stood in the empty, cavernous basement for long minutes, until the very feeling of barren hollowness freaked her out and she fled for the elevator. Stepping out into the lobby, ignoring the stares of people walking through, she ducked into Marco’s café and pulled out her cell phone, dialing by memory.

  Please, pick up. Please, pick up.

  To her amazement, she heard Prue’s tentative voice. “Hello?”

  “Prue,” she said, in an almost whisper. “Can we talk? I am having a hard time, and I could really use a friend.”

  “I’m sorry, Kate. But I just can’t.”

  “Is that it, then?” Kate’s voice was strangled. “You’re just not talking to me?”

  “It’s complicated.” Prue’s sigh was ragged. “I… Listen, I never told you about my family, about my, well, legacy. But trust me. I’m not supposed to get involved with oni. You know. Demons,” she translated.

  “I’m not a demon!”

  “You’re signed,” Prue pointed out.

  “Only because I was dying!”

  “I’m still trying to sort this out,” Prue said, and she sounded miserable. “I miss you, chica, but until I figure out how I can do this, I can’t talk to you.”

  “Prue?”

  But Prue hung up. Kate stared at the phone for a minute, stunned tears popping up and trickling down her cheeks. She grabbed a paper napkin, quickly dabbing them away.

  Her cell phone rang, and thinking it was Prue, she quickly answered it.

  “Kate?” It was Thomas’s voice instead. “You still at work?”

  It had to be around five or six. “Yeah. I was just leaving.” She suddenly realized the last place she wanted to be was home, though. She couldn’t see Prue, and going to Thalossa by herself sounded unappealing. That didn’t leave her with a whole lot of options, now that she thought about it.

  “I need you to come over to the Havens.” His voice sounded strained. “I’ve got some work here that I need you to do.”

  “Work? You need me to work? There?” she echoed. “Now?”

  “Is it a problem?” His tone was crisp.

  “No…”

  “Have security call the car service. Then have the manager bring you to see me.” He hung up before she could ask anything else.

  She growled at her cell phone. So he was going to just snap his fingers and expect her to come running like a dog?

  “Just because you signed my soul doesn’t mean you own my life, asshole,” she muttered to herself, stomping toward the lobby doors. After seeing what happened to Slim, after her brief conversation with Prue, she felt rage bubbling up through her like lava.

  I think it’s past time that we had a little talk… boss.

  …

  Thomas was waiting in the lobby of the Havens when Kate came in. She was still wearing the clothes the stylist had put her in, even though the outfit was obviously worse for the wear. Her hair had rebelled from the hairspray treatment. The waves were starting to get back to their usual riotous state. She’d taken the contacts out, her squared off glasses back on. Her tie was a little loose and askew, too. And she looked like she was ready to tear a couple of strips off of him.

  The way he was feeling right now, he’d let her.

  She pushed the glasses up on the bridge of her nose, and glared at him. “Is this going to take a while?” she asked. “Because you and I really need to talk.”

  “Words every man loves to hear,” he muttered. Ordinarily, he would’ve tweaked her more, but right now, he just didn’t want to face this alone. “We’ll talk after. Right now, we’re headed up to Maggie’s.”

  She wen
t pale. Well, paler, he amended. “God. You didn’t drag me here to tell her she’s fired and she has to move, did you?”

  “No. I didn’t.” He took her to the elevator, and drew a deep breath. “Kate, Maggie’s dead.”

  “What?” Shock smacked the scowl from her face. “How? When?”

  “Couple hours ago,” he said, taking a minute to remember which floor Maggie’s condo was on. He’d made sure to keep it fairly far from his own penthouse suite, but it was still on one of the higher floors. “The police finally cleared the scene. She jumped from her balcony.”

  “Why?” Kate asked, then bit her lip. “I’m sorry. Did she… did she leave a note?”

  “The police said they didn’t find one,” he said. They were still going to be investigating, he realized. And since he was the closest person to Maggie, he got the feeling they’d be crawling up his ass any moment. Well, that’s what he had lawyers for. “But they cleared me to go through her apartment.”

  “Do you think there was… I don’t know, foul play?” she said, then grimaced. “I don’t think I’ve ever used that seriously in a sentence before. I mean, did somebody murder her?”

  “No, I’m pretty sure she just jumped.” He felt pressure on his chest. “Because I was firing her and evicting her.”

  “No,” she said sharply. “This wasn’t your fault.”

  “You keep saying that,” he countered, unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice. “Funny, though—I keep doing things, and these women keep dying.”

  “So what are you supposed to do? Just let her stay on, enabling her, letting her run rampant through your life because you’re afraid she might off herself? No,” Kate said, with surprising vehemence. “This was not your fault, Thomas. If it were anyone else, she’d have been out on her ass months ago. Probably years. Am I right?”

  He thought about it. “Years,” he agreed. “Elizabeth said that Maggie had trouble managing on her own. I never mentioned that Maggie was Elizabeth’s sister, did I? First Elizabeth, now Maggie.”

  And that was the real sticking point, wasn’t it?

  How many women was he going to fail at saving?

  Kate poked him hard in the chest. “Knock it off. You couldn’t save Elizabeth, but that wasn’t you—that was cancer. You did whatever you could, and then some.”