Wicked Bedmate: A Cocky Hero Club Production

by Snow, Jenika

  I held off from rolling my eyes a second time. I didn’t bother telling him that serial killers had siblings as well.

  I mean, having conversation with someone and just getting out of the house after everything that happened didn’t sound like a bad idea. It wasn’t like I had to see the guy again if it ended up being an awful night.

  I walked across the street once it was all clear and exhaled slowly. “Fine, tell me the time and I’ll be there.”

  Even if it was the worst blind date in the history of blind dates, at least I got to eat at my favorite burger place. So for that alone it couldn’t be very bad. Right?

  After I got off the phone with Michael, I was about to put it back in my purse, when it vibrated. I assumed it was Michael again, because he’d forgotten to tell me something. Because it’s not like anyone else called me. I picked up the phone and said, “I promise I won’t back out. As long as he’s not a serial killer or look like my brother, we’re all good.”

  There was a pause of silence, and I pulled the phone away, thinking maybe it got disconnected. But the number on the screen was most definitely not Michael’s or one I was even familiar with.

  Feeling my heart race a little and embarrassment flood me, I put the receiver back to my ear. “Hello?” Maybe I was lucky and whoever was on the other end hadn’t heard me.

  Yeah, luck was never really on my side.

  “Miss Morris?” I moved to the side, feeling like maybe I should focus on this conversation, because the woman on the other end seemed pretty serious.

  “Yes, this is Linda Morris.” I lifted my hand and used my finger to plug my other ear, trying to hear her better against the rush of the crowd.

  “It’s Meredith Klein from the HR department at Morgan Financial Holdings.”

  For a moment, I felt my anxiety leave, this surge of hopefulness filling me. “Hi, Meredith.” Although I didn’t really remember who Meredith was, it didn’t matter. She was from HR. Maybe they were giving me my job back.

  “Miss Morris, I was instructed by Mr. Morgan to let you know that he’s offering you a month’s severance as compensation for your time, diligence, and hard work at Morgan Financial Holdings.”

  I blinked a few times, shocked at what I was hearing, but also a little bit annoyed. So instead of him hiring me back, the stuck-up suit was giving me a month’s worth of pay?

  “Miss Morris? Are you still there?”

  I clenched my teeth and nodded then felt like an idiot for the fact that she couldn’t see me. “Yes, I’m here.” I cleared my throat again and pressed my back up against the brick wall, staying away from the path of people. “A month’s severance pay?” I could hear the surprise and annoyance in my voice. But after that initial frustration left, I was left with the fact that Graham Morgan was giving me a month’s pay after he humiliated and fired me in front of everyone.

  I shouldn’t have been thinking about this as hard as I was, but either hell had frozen over or I was about to see pigs flying.

  I listened to Meredith tell me the details about what I’d have to do for the severance package, and once I disconnected the call, I stood there for a moment still shocked as hell.

  Huh, Graham Morgan had just given me a half-assed apology that didn’t even come from him, but he was also paying me for a month, because maybe he realized what a prick he’d been? I mean, it sounded great, but if he really realized the errors of his way, he’d have hired me back.

  But maybe things were looking up. I mean, it wasn’t my job back, but it was the next best thing, right?

  Chapter Three

  Linda

  I hit Send and leaned back in my chair, the piece of furniture creaking, the denim-colored upholstery on it scratchy against my skin, tattered from age. I lifted my hands and rubbed my eyes, exhausted, the clock on the wall ticking off the seconds. It was already past midnight, and for me that was late as hell.

  Since coming home, I’d been in front of the computer and sending off as many resumes as I could—well, to the positions I was qualified for and didn’t sound like total shit. But having a month’s severance pay helped ease some of the anxiety I felt.

  I looked over at my notepad and the newspaper sitting beside it. I had one more resume to send off, and I guess I’d saved the best for last.

  This was the position I really wanted, because it sounded pretty much like what I’d been doing for Mr. Morgan. But then again, if it sounded this good, no doubt there was going to be a lot of people applying, and it wasn’t like I had a whole lot of experience. Not to mention being fired didn’t really work in my favor.

  But I was still going to give it a go, because what did I have to lose? I was already jobless.

  I leaned forward, the chair squeaking again, and pulled up a new email. After attaching my resume, typing out a snazzy query, and including my cover letter, I moved the mouse over to the Send button. I let the little arrow hover over it for a second. I was nervous and I didn’t know why. Maybe the possibility of not finding a job and becoming homeless—or worse, moving back in with my parents—made this morbid sense of dread fill me.

  Fuck it.

  I hit Send and leaned back in the chair again, exhaling slowly. I was probably just working myself up for nothing. I was sending off a damn resume, not running for President of the United States.

  I ran my hands over my face and breathed out slowly. I was tired, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep soundly, the stress and worry eating at me, weighing down on me like a ton of bricks.

  I grabbed my cell and pulled up my messages, sending one to Michael. It was late, but I knew he’d be up. I guess that’s how your internal clock was trained when you were a bartender.

  Me: Can’t sleep. Big surprise. Just sent off a shit load of resumes and worried I won’t get a callback.

  It was only a second later that those three gray dots appeared.

  Michael: If they don’t call you back, they’re a bunch of wankers.

  Wankers? I snorted and smiled, typing out my reply.

  Me: Is David British or something? Wankers? You pick that up from him? ;)

  Michael: LOL. No, smartass. I kind of like it. Picking up random slang words from all over the world. Makes me feel sophisticated.

  I laughed out loud then. Leave it to Michael to make me smile when I felt like utter shit.

  Michael: I know it’s late, but if you want, we can go get some coffee at that all-night diner. Maybe you want to talk if you can’t sleep?

  I exhaled slowly, looking down the short hallway that led to my bedroom. I should try to sleep or at least lie in bed staring at my ceiling, but the truth was, I knew I wouldn’t be able to. I started typing a reply.

  Me: Yeah, meet you there in half an hour?

  I set my phone down but didn’t move from my spot. I still had to get dressed, seeing as I was only in a camisole and my underwear. I looked toward my window, the curtains thin enough so it gave me a semblance of privacy, but sheer enough I could kind of see the outside world when the lights were low, like they were right now.

  My apartment was small as hell, one tiny room, and the living room and kitchen were one area. My bathroom was laughable in size, and for what I paid a month for this place, I felt like I should be living like royalty.

  But beggars really couldn’t be choosers in the city.

  I shut off my computer and lamp and walked over to the window, pulling the curtain aside to look out. There was a brick building beside my apartment, but to my left I could see part of the city, a strip of street where cars drove by or taxi drivers showed their road rage in all its glory. A secondhand clothing store was across the street, and a laundromat was beside that. On the other side of the clothing store was a pawn shop. They were all crammed together down that little strip of street.

  This wasn’t the best neighborhood to be in, because it was more industrial than anything else, but living on a secretarial income didn’t allow for luxuries. Still, I was comfortable, it was relatively safe,
and I had a roof over my head, so I couldn’t complain. Well, not much.

  I let the curtain fall back in place and headed to my bedroom. I grabbed a pair of sweats and a T-shirt and threw them on quickly. I tied my hair up haphazardly into a messy bun, slipped on a pair of flip-flops, and grabbed my purse. Yeah, I wasn’t trying to win a beauty contest right now. And anyway, the diner we were meeting at didn’t have a dress code. In fact, a lot of the customers that frequented it either worked the night shift and looked like zombies or were just trying to find a place to kill some time.

  And that’s what I was looking for. Killing some time and bitching to my best friend about all the worries that weighed me down. Good thing he was a great listener.

  Chapter Four

  Linda

  The sound of my alarm dinging had me groaning and turning my head more into the pillow. There was another ding, and I buried my head farther into its fluffiness. I had nowhere to be, no one to talk to, and sleeping until noon sounded pretty incredible right about now.

  But as I lay there, wanting to sleep, I found myself wide awake. I rolled onto my back and stared at the ceiling. I’d gotten in late after having coffee with Michael, and although I’d had two cups of the most caffeinated coffee in the world, I’d crashed as soon as my head hit the pillow.

  I reached over for my phone. I was an adult and should probably do adult things, right?

  I saw the alerts from my email and opened the app. The first one I saw was junk, something about pleasing my woman with a new erectile dysfunction pill.

  Delete.

  The next one was from a sex shop telling me I was chosen to get fifty percent off one item.

  Delete… although…. Nope, delete.

  The next one was a message from one of the emails I’d sent out yesterday with my resume. I shot up in bed, adrenaline instantly pumping through my body.

  I opened up the email and started scanning it.

  Dear Miss…

  We received your resume…

  Mrs. Lane would like to set up an interview…

  I felt a smile grow on my face. A reply back this fast had to be good news, right?

  I needed a cup of coffee and a shower—and not in that order—before I replied to schedule an interview.

  I closed out the email, feeling my grin spread. And then I saw two more emails for an interview. I flopped back on the bed, my arms outstretched on either side of me, my hair fanned out around my head, and no doubt this stupid, silly grin across my face. Three resumes sent out. Three interviews up for grabs.

  Things might very well be looking up for me.

  Now I just had to crawl out of bed, get ready for the day, and conquer the world.

  * * *

  I sat at the bar and watched as Michael did his thing flirting with the customers and raking in the tips. He was an entertainer. There was no other word that could accurately describe him.

  I took the straw and placed it between my lips, sucking until I tasted my drink. There was an extra kick in it thanks to Michael. I’d gone shopping for a new dress suit, not one I could really afford, but with three interviews lined up in the next few days, I wanted to look my best.

  You had to play the part if you wanted the part.

  The music was loud, but it wasn’t that New Age pop stuff all the kids were listening to. What played overhead was from the late ‘90s... from when I was in school. It brought me back to the old days where everything was about hemp necklaces, keeping your Tamagotchi alive, and the age where there were no cell phones, and AOL and pretending to be someone famous in chat rooms was what everyone did.

  “Wonderwall” by Oasis started playing, and Michael looked over at me with wide eyes and a massive grin. He pointed at me and I chuckled. This was his jam, had been since the moment I met him. I watched him work the bar, pouring shots, mixing drinks, and singing to the song.

  Michael was dance-walking over to me, the grin still in place.

  “Because maybe, you're gonna be the one that saves me. And after all, you're my wonderwall.”

  He belted out the lyrics, and I was dying of laughter, because he was being so extra. He leaned against the counter on his forearms, his light-green eyes crinkled at the corners.

  “You ready for your interview tomorrow?”

  I nodded, although I was a nervous wreck. Two interviews in one day. I had to be insane, right? “To be honest, I’m not very confident.”

  He scoffed as if what I said was silly. “You got this, Linda. You’re smart and you know your shit. If they don’t hire you, I don’t know what they’re looking for in an employee.” His expression was serious.

  “Yeah, but it’s not like I have a whole lot of experience, and to be fired certainly doesn’t look good on a resume.”

  He shrugged, acting like it wasn’t an issue at all. Michael had been at the same job for the past five years. He had job security. Unless this place went belly-up, Michael had a job. Hell, the owners thought of him as family.

  “Listen, if things don’t work out with these interviews, it’s not the end of the world.”

  That was easy enough for him to say.

  He started wiping down the bar but kept glancing at me. “I’m serious, Linda. You’ll find a job. This is a big city, and lots of people need skilled, intelligent employees. And that’s what you are tenfold.”

  I smiled, because I didn’t know what to say to that. Michael was very optimistic. Always. He was also always there for me. And that went a long way in making my confidence rise.

  Michael went off to help a customer, and I sensed someone sit beside me. I glanced to my left and saw an older man take a seat, a smile on his face.

  “Hey.”

  I could barely hear him, but I read his lips, so I just nodded and smiled back.

  He looked old enough to be my dad, with creases at the corners of his eyes, and his skin tanned and weathered as if he was out in the sun a lot. He had salt-and-pepper coloring at his temples, and a nose that looked like it had been broken once or twice.

  He leaned in close and I smelled a potent, concentrated whiff of his cologne.

  “Hi.” I gave him a friendly smile but didn’t engage.

  “I noticed you’re here alone.”

  I just smiled again. I’d been living in the city long enough that just because a guy seemed nice didn’t mean he was. If he was trying to pick me up at the bar, chances were he was only after one thing. And that one thing was not something I was willing to give up to him.

  “I’m actually here visiting my friend.” Before I could gesture to Michael, the guy moved in a little closer. Great, he was already becoming a clinger.

  “Can I buy you another drink?”

  I shook my head and lifted up my nearly full piña colada. “Thanks, but no thanks. I think I’m good.”

  I saw Michael glance up at me, his gaze going to the guy sitting beside me, lifting his eyebrow and cocking his lips in amusement. I hid my amusement as well. He chuckled softly and shook his head before walking over to me, a rag over his shoulder. The guy beside me kept talking about his work, and I just wanted to rip my hair out. I was not a confrontational kind of person and didn’t want to be rude. But I wasn’t interested. Not in the slightest.

  “So, maybe you’d want to get dinner or something sometime?”

  I looked to my left. I think he said his name was Barry. Or Bob. The music was so loud I hadn’t even heard him clearly, and I hadn’t been interested enough to have him repeat it.

  “Hey, buddy.”

  I glanced over at Michael after he spoke. He had his focus on Barry/Bob, this serious, stern expression on his face.

  “The lady isn’t interested. Go spit your game on someone else.”

  Barry/Bob looked between Michael and me, and after a few seconds gave me a sheepish smile before nodding once and getting up to leave.

  Clearly, I hadn’t been something he wanted to fight for. Thank God.

  I looked at Michael and we stared at each o
ther for a suspended moment before both of us burst out laughing. “I swear,” I said and leaned in to take another sip of my piña colada. “I always attract ones like that.” I took another drink, sucking a little bit more down this time. The burn was starting to fade as I got used to the alcohol.

  “I mean, it could’ve been worse.”

  I lifted an eyebrow in skepticism. “Believe me, it could’ve been a lot worse.”

  I started laughing as I looked around the bar full of people. “True that.”

  “Now finish that so I can get you round two.”

  I chuckled softly and leaned in to bring the straw to my mouth. I sucked and felt the cold, slushy alcoholic beverage fill my mouth. When I swallowed, I tried in vain not to cough, but my eyes watered and I felt that burn renew and travel down my throat.

  “God, Michael.” I wheezed and saw him grin. “What did you put in here, gasoline?”

  He tipped his head back and laughed. “Drink up, buttercup. The night’s still young.”

  Chapter Five

  Linda

  Several days later

  “Miss Morris, can you give me your day-to-day at your last employment?”

  I felt my throat tighten as the woman in front me gave the interview.

  “Of course.” I was trying to act professional, but I knew what would come after this. I started telling her about my activities at Morgan Financial Holdings. I guess I’d been a glorified coffee maker, and a pro at making copies and taking appointments. I swear she didn’t even blink as I told her the rundown.

  And once I was finished, she leaned back in her seat and gave me a small smile. “It says on your resume your employment with Morgan Financial Holdings ended just last week?” She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose.

  I licked my lips and nodded. “Yes, unfortunately it did.” I didn’t know what else to say.