Love Bank: Jobs From Hell #1

by Ray, Marika

  “May I help you, miss?”

  I swung my gaze away from the stark gray walls and found a bored front desk person sitting behind a wall of solid glass. He looked familiar, but I couldn’t place his name. More my mom’s age than mine. I really needed to pay more attention to people’s names in an effort to be more social. It was a wonder I’d even heard him, given how thick that glass appeared. Stepping closer, I finally saw the holes, no bigger than a dime, right at his face level. Apparently, we weren’t allowed to share the same oxygen. Sterile, indeed.

  I leaned forward and spoke directly through the closest hole, careful to keep my lips from brushing the glass. Who knew who’d been here before me.

  “Uh, yes. I’m here to speak to the warden.”

  The glass fogged up and I pulled back sharply. The man snickered. I narrowed my eyes at him. Smartly, he hushed up quick and answered me.

  “Do you have an appointment?”

  Time for my winning smile. “No, sir. But you see, I’m the owner of the fertility clinic next door and I wanted to swing by to introduce myself to the warden. Just being neighborly.”

  He eyed me up and down before swinging to his computer and clacking away at the keys like they’d personally offended him. I stood there, hoping I’d passed inspection. Thank God for Keva. She was a breath of fresh air compared to this Neanderthal. I’d have to bring him up to the warden. He or she really should hire a more friendly front desk person. It was only neighborly to exchange business advice.

  A loud buzzer echoed in the empty lobby, making me jump and nearly wipe out. I grabbed the glass and hung on for dear life. These heels were slick on the concrete floor. A door on the far side of the room swung open.

  “Head on in,” the guy barked, ignoring my wobble. “Up the stairs and make a left.”

  I steadied myself, seeing the handprints I’d made on the glass and wishing for Windex. Instead, I took a deep breath to calm my fluttering heart and walked calmly through the door, feeling like I was entering something I knew nothing about and would eventually regret. The door closed with an echoing slam and then an ominous sliding click, like a huge deadbolt had slid into place, keeping me as locked in as any prisoner. The lighting was a little less harsh here, just enough to illuminate several doors down a hallway, which I guessed were locked tight, and a set of stairs. I took those, one at a time, careful not to twist an ankle or touch anything. I shuddered at the germs that must float around this place. Suspender Man had been here, after all.

  At the top of the stairs, I made a left, marveling at the lack of decor. Not one thing was on the wall. Just floor-to-ceiling concrete painted a dull gray. A flash of red caught my eye, because hey, it was finally a new color. Looking way up, I could see a tiny black dot and then that flash of red again. Ah, cameras. They must have been catching my every step and near wipeout in the lobby, which was a little intimidating, let me tell you. My facility was camera-free, which I liked just fine, thank you very much.

  At the end of the hall, I turned left again, the only way you could go, and saw a woman sitting at a desk, diligently tapping away at her computer. She was a bit young, which caught me off guard at first. Then pride filled my chest as I realized Auburn Hill had hired a young woman to run the prison, as if they’d finally entered the twenty-first century and understood a woman could do the job just as well as a man.

  It was with this thought in my head that I approached her desk, a welcoming smile on my face. She glanced up and then jumped to her feet. Enthusiastically, I thrust my hand out between us.

  “Hello, Warden. So lovely to meet my neighbor!”

  She stared at my hand, then back to my face, her eyes blinking repeatedly. My smile faltered, sliding from my face the longer my hand held its awkward position without acknowledgment.

  “Oh, um, I’m not Mr. Sutter.”

  My hand floated back down to my side. “Who’s Mr. Sutter?”

  “The warden.” Unspoken was the “duh” I could see practically float through her brain.

  I pasted on a renewed smile. “Oh, pardon me. I didn’t know who the warden was.”

  “Mr. Sutter.” She nodded at me slowly.

  I nodded back. “Yes, Mr. Sutter.”

  What was going on here? Why were we talking in circles? I needed to pull this conversation back on track in a hurry or else I’d still be here late into the night confirming Mr. Sutter was indeed the warden.

  I pulled myself up tall and used my business voice. “I’m here to see Mr. Sutter, please.”

  “Oh! Sure. Right this way.” She jumped into action, spinning around and walking toward the door behind her. She swung it open and then quickly left, leaving me by myself to face the warden.

  I took a step forward, sucking in a deep breath and collecting my thoughts. I needed to be direct. Kind, but forceful. Explain the situation calmly and get the warden’s assurance it would be managed better in the future.

  My gaze panned across the room, seeing the wide window view showing my clinic and the Cat Society next door quite clearly. I kept sweeping until everything slowed down into some time warp mind bend cartoon where everything goes horribly wrong and you can pinpoint the exact second the shit hit the fan.

  This was my second and the shit spreading across the room took the form of shame and embarrassment of epic proportions.

  Sitting behind a giant desk in a leather chair was my spank bank obsession.

  Specimen #264 in the flesh.

  Hello, sperm. Meet your father.

  This time, his jaw was relaxed, his eyes were open, and he most definitely saw me.

  “What can I do for you, Miss Eureka?”

  Oh, you’ve already done it.

  I blinked hard, but he was still there, a smug little smile on his face while I stood there like a mute child about to pee her pants. A weird fluttering sensation took up low in my gut. I’d never peed myself before, at least not as an adult, but maybe I’d finally reached that age when it started to happen. Shock could do that to a person.

  “You okay? Doin’ a lot of blinking over there.”

  I froze again, realizing I’d been blinking at the man repeatedly like I’d lost a contact somewhere in my eye.

  A bray of laughter erupted and I smoothly walked farther into the room to have a seat in one of the two chairs in front of his desk. The laughter, or maybe it was the stiff-legged walk on heels that suddenly felt five inches high, must not have come off as convincing. He frowned at me, reminding me of how intense he’d looked just the other day, his head tossed back on my sofa.

  I rubbed my sweaty palms on my skirt and had a seat, plopping down unceremoniously just as my knees gave out on me. Jesus. Getting older sure was hell on the body. First my bladder, now my joints.

  “Hi!”

  Well, for nugget’s sake, I could come up with something more than that. I sat up straighter and tried to get the visual of him spread out on the couch, cock in hand, out of my mind. I cleared my throat and tried again.

  “Your inmates are whacking off at my place.” I gestured out the window, but quickly pulled my hand back down when I saw it was shaking. And then I realized that wasn’t quite the way to lead into an introduction. Why were conversations with humans so difficult?

  The warden didn’t even look out the window. His brown eyes widened for a split second. I blinked and they were normal again, so maybe I just imagined it. Maybe people came into his office all the time talking about spanking the monkey. How the hell would I know what’s normal in a jailhouse?

  “Oh, you must be from next door, right?” His face went slack like he was bored of the conversation already.

  His implication finally penetrated my addled brain. He was going to act like he’d never stepped foot in my clinic when I knew for a fact he’d slapped the salami less than forty-eight hours ago in my back room. I’d eyed his swimmers just this morning.

  Okay, fine, I’d play along with him.

  For now.

  4

  Bain


  I wasn’t surprised to see the lady in my office. I’d seen her trot her way over in her heels, one hand on the end of her skirt at all times to make sure an errant gust of wind didn’t give us all a view of her granny panties. Now that I got a close-up look at her, she was actually quite pretty. In a stuffed-up, never-experienced-joy-or-exhilaration kind of way. She probably faked her weekly orgasms with the husband.

  She froze in my doorway like she’d seen a ghost. She pursed her lips as she stared at me and I had a sense her asshole was similarly puckered up, tighter than any of the men I’d had to strip search over the years for interesting drug storage choices.

  She finally unfroze and sat down on the other side of my desk. Her face was perfectly smooth like she had a skilled plastic surgeon. Then again, she didn’t have the duck lips or the frozen forehead, so maybe the unlined skin was all natural. Maybe she was much younger than the way she dressed. I think my grandma had that same skirt.

  “Your inmates are whacking off at my place.”

  Her voice raised the hairs on the back of my neck. She spoke softly, but firmly, like her words were the finest velvet overlaying steel. I was getting a sexy librarian vibe all of a sudden and I was shocked to discover I liked it. I mean, the woman was buttoned up tight, yet she had a way with words.

  Then those words penetrated and I felt a frisson of unease. Did she know about my sample too? I swear, if I was already being gossiped about in this small town because of my brother’s stupid dare, I’d kill him. I forced my face into a bored stare.

  “Oh, you must be from next door?”

  Denial was always the best defense.

  “Um, yes. So we seem to be experiencing a problem.” She sat up taller, which thrust her breasts forward. “Your former inmates are frequenting the clinic on their way back to town. It’s unacceptable.”

  I smirked, irritated she might know I’d left a sample at her clinic, though I hadn’t seen her there. Doubly irritated my eyes wanted to drift south and take in those breasts to size them up.

  I shrugged. “Where they go after they leave here is none of my business.”

  Her eyelid fluttered, her only tell. She sat primly, not moving a muscle. “I know they aren’t under your watch at that point, but I’d appreciate if you could inform them they’re to go straight home or something once released.”

  That voice was doing weird things to my chest. And that composure? Admirable. But I was determined to ruffle her feathers.

  I stood up and came around the desk. She shrank back as I leaned against the desk, my legs just inches from hers. Bingo. I made her uncomfortable.

  “Miss Eureka, is it?” At her nod, I kept going. “It’s a free country. As soon as the inmates are free to go, they’re free to do anything they want. Including providing samples at your fine establishment.”

  She sniffed. “My fine establishment does not want their samples.”

  I leaned forward, watching the way her cheeks turned pink the closer I got. “Are you saying inmate sperm isn’t good sperm?”

  “I am saying, Mr. Sutter, that inmates are not the kind of people emotionally distraught women are looking for when trying to conceive a child.”

  She hopped out of the chair, nearly clipping me in the jaw with her industrial bun of mousy brown hair. I would have inspected it further to determine how many cans of hairspray she killed to produce such a hard rock of hair, but my eyes finally won the battle, drifting down to take in the rapid rise and fall of a set of breasts worthy of staring.

  “That’s very judgmental of you.”

  “Wha—” Her hands flew to her hips. Definitely didn’t have a plastic surgeon. She was making all kinds of expressions now. My inner eight-year-old boy clapped his hands and whistled.

  “How dare you? I had a man just this morning, barely clothed, wanting to make some cash to get out of town.”

  I smiled. “Oh yeah, that must have been Johnny. He’s harmless. Just tried to steal the gold nugget on the Welcome to Auburn Hill sign.”

  “He wasn’t wearing a shirt.” She nearly spat the words.

  “So?” I pushed off the desk and stood tall, looking down at her. “Last I checked, that isn’t illegal.”

  She cocked her head back to gaze up at me, narrowed her eyes, and then climbed up onto the chair to tower over me in some twisted game of one-upping.

  “That is not the sort of reputation I want at my clinic, Mr. Sutter.”

  I bit my lip to keep from laughing. Jesus Christ, the lady was madder than a hornet’s nest and crazier than ol’ Johnny with the suspenders over his belly stealing a plastic nugget. She was literally standing on my chair and looking down her nose at me like I was the crazy one in the room.

  “Women want sperm that comes with intelligence. Stealing a fake gold nugget off the town sign just reeks of a genetic IQ challenge.”

  I scratched the side of my head, looking up at her. “Is that your fancy way of saying dumb?”

  She lifted and dropped one dainty shoulder. “If the suspenders fit…”

  I rolled my lips inward and swallowed a laugh. Damn, this was fun. “You gonna buy me a new chair now that your heels have permanently dented my leather?”

  She glanced down at her feet and scrambled off the chair, nearly tipping over and going down in the process. I reached for her, but she grabbed on to my desk and righted herself. Maybe if she didn’t wear such long skirts, she wouldn’t trip over all that material. Or maybe she was just overheated what with the high-neck shirt, the long sleeves, and the stockings. And even with all that extra clothing a vision flashed through my brain of her bent over that desk looking over her shoulder at me with a come-hither vibe.

  I shook my head to dislodge the disturbing image. “You have an issue with the sun?”

  Her gaze lifted to mine. And if I wasn’t mistaken, she’d been looking in the general area of my crotch. Oh shit, had the boob gazing followed by R-rated mental images caused an uprising? I shifted, calming down when I didn’t feel intense pressure against the front of my work pants. What the fuck was she looking at then?

  Her nose wrinkled. “An issue with the sun? No. Do you?”

  “No, but I’m not the one covered in burlap from head to toe.” I gestured up and down her body. She looked down at her herself again as if she’d forgotten the twenty articles of clothing she’d put on that morning.

  “I’ll have you know this is silk and real wool, not burlap.”

  I shrugged again. “Looks all the same to me.”

  Her eyes morphed into lasers, like they could eviscerate me with a single glance. Good thing I was made of tougher stuff than that.

  “You could use an oil blend of mine around here.” She waved her hands around the office. “Clear some of the negativity and help you out with your other issue.”

  What the hell was she talking about now?

  She cleared her throat again. “Getting back to my clinic. I would really appreciate if you informed your inmates to head straight out of town without pit stops.”

  I dropped the smirk and got back on topic. I didn’t have time to sit here messing with a woman—albeit beautiful—with a stick up her ass.

  “I can’t tell the inmates what to do once they leave here. I’m sorry.”

  Her expressive brown eyes narrowed. “My clinic is a high-end medical facility. You of all people should know that.”

  Warning bells clanged loudly inside my skull.

  My voice dropped an octave to meet up with where my stomach had dropped. “Me of all people?”

  She raised an eyebrow and, shit, if I wasn’t scared to death of being outed for beating the pig, I would have been highly turned on by that line of light brown hair giving me sass.

  “Yes. You of all people,” she said firmly.

  Well, holy shit. Miss Prim and Proper was threatening me. She knew damn well I’d been in her clinic two days ago and she was calling me out on it. Putting it out there on the table for everyone to see. Question was, would
she follow through on that threat?

  I took a step closer, enjoying the way her upper lip started to shine. Ms. Eureka was nervous.

  “I’d be careful with your threats. I’d hate to let it slip to my inmates that you give out quite a payment for a quick deposit. They might be planning to do a little banking, and as a good neighbor of Auburn Hill, I’d have to point them in your direction.”

  Her lips pinched together as she sucked in a deep breath through her nose. The pink on her cheeks deepened to flat-out red. She was ready to blow.

  “You may be new around here, Mr. Sutter, but we don’t take kindly to ruining other people’s small businesses. I may be a woman, but I’m not afraid to go to war.”

  She spun on her heel and walked to my door, opening it, but pausing there on the threshold.

  “Keep your guys away from my building.”

  With that final warning, the door slammed behind her.

  I sank down into the chair she’d climbed up on, wondering what the hell had just happened. That Amish schoolmarm with nary an inch of skin showing had tried to put me in my place. I felt like there were bugs crawling under my skin.

  Put me in my place? I don’t think so, Laura Ingalls Wilder.

  Men like me told other people what to do. It was what I excelled at. Giving orders, not taking them. I mean, she could out my trip to the fertility clinic, which would hurt my chances of ever scoring some time with the single ladies of Auburn Hill, but would she actually follow through with that threat? I needed more intel on this Eureka chick. Loose cannon or no substance.

  Whatever I found out, I’d have to fight back subtly to make sure she didn’t spill my secret.

  And fight back I would.

  Nobody came in my house and threatened me.

  Nobody.

  5

  Lucille

  “Yoo-hoo!” Poppy called from the front door.

  I came out to the front of the clinic, seeing her leaning over the front desk, conversing with Keva. Poppy could hit all the mailboxes on her route within four hours, but instead, she took the time to talk with each and every resident of Auburn Hill, extending her route to eight hours. The United States Postal Service never called her out on her time-wasting ways. Guess they figured her equal distribution of mail and gossip kept the town well pollenated. Or at least well informed. Nothing got past Poppy.