Temping is Hell Read online

She is definitely mine.

  With that appealing thought, he moved to step in and stop the boy’s aggression.

  Before he could, the boy roared with pain, pulling back, his lower lip bloody. Kate had a drop of blood on her mouth that she wiped off with the cloth napkin.

  The host rushed forward, looking concerned.

  Kate stood up. “Is the program in there?” she asked the bleeding, shocked looking boy, pointing at a messenger bag on a nearby chair.

  “Damn it, Kate…”

  “Is it in there?” she hissed. The boy nodded. “It’s the zebra stripe flash drive. I’m sorry,” he muttered, pressing his napkin to his lip. “I mean, I didn’t—”

  “Don’t. Talk. To me.” Her green eyes blazed like a welder’s torch as she pawed through the bag. “And if you follow me, so help me God, I’m pounding you into the pavement.”

  “Come on…”

  “Just try it.” She swiped up the drive, stuffed it in her purse, then weaved through the crowded tables at a fast clip. The boy blushed bright as a stoplight.

  “But what about the check?” he called after her retreating figure. “You don’t expect me to pay for your dinner if you’re just gonna leave!”

  Thomas smothered a grin. Then he gestured to his client, indicating he’d be back in a second, and went after Kate. He put a hand on her shoulder, and she spun. He barely managed to miss the swing, a beautiful right hook aimed about her date’s height. Fortunately, Thomas was taller than her date—and he trained, every day, for just such occasions.

  “Whoa there, slugger,” he said, holding his hands up. “I just wanted to see if you’re okay.”

  She took a deep breath. “I will be,” she growled.

  “I take it that was not your boyfriend, then,” he drawled, putting his hands in his pockets.

  “He keeps up shit like that, he’s not even going to stay male,” she promised darkly.

  Thomas laughed, letting out a low whistle. “Remind me not to piss you off.”

  “Fine,” she said, glaring at him. “Don’t piss me off.”

  He glanced at her. She looked fierce, he thought, with her wild hair and her don’t fuck with me expression. He’d always preferred cool, demure women—blondes, like Elizabeth. And he’d never been attracted to a woman who snarled at him. Apparently it had been too long a time since he’d, ah, blown off some steam.

  But damn, she did look good.

  “Consider me warned.” He nodded at her purse. “So what’s with the flash drive?”

  He could see her freeze, the sudden tension. Wonder what that’s about?

  “Extra-curricular project,” she said.

  “You’re in school?”

  “No.”

  He stared at her. “Okay,” he said, waiting for her to expand on it. She didn’t.

  “Right. See you at work,” she said, then turned, heading for the parking garage.

  “Say, Kate?”

  She turned, her hip tilted, glancing over her shoulder like a pin-up model. “Yeah?”

  “I’m glad he’s not your boyfriend.”

  She stared at him. Hell, he would’ve stared at himself if he could have. The words popped out before he could stop them, and he frowned.

  She sent him a slow, almost shy smile that did more for his libido than Maggie’s full naked displays. He was surprised by the punch of it, momentarily rooted to the spot.

  Then she took two steps… and walked smack into a parking sign.

  “I’m okay. I’m okay,” she said, waving him off when he went to help. She sounded flustered, and her pretty cream cheeks had blushed pink.

  His smile broadened as he stuffed his hands in his pockets. It was a good feeling.

  “See you tomorrow,” she repeated, then moved with the furious haste of someone embarrassed.

  Thomas was still grinning when he walked back into the restaurant.

  “What was that all about?” his dinner guest, Mr. Harlow Frederickson, asked with amusement.

  “Just a friend,” Thomas said, not wanting to go into details. The boy had gone, at least. And besides, Thomas was pretty sure Kate could handle him if he was stupid enough to go after her. “So. Shall we talk about the details of the merger? I’d love to add your advertising agency to Fiendish Enterprises.”

  “Sure. Although I bumped into a friend, too, while you were outside,” Harlow said, gesturing to someone else. Still buzzing from his weird little exchange with Kate, Thomas looked over… and his heart stilled in his chest. It felt like his whole body had been dropped in a vat of liquid nitrogen.

  Harlow was oblivious. “Thomas, I’d like you to meet Cyril. Cyril Roman.” The man was tall, thin, his hair a pale corn-silk blond. He smiled, holding out his hand.

  Thomas stared at it. Yup. Even the scar was still there, just over the wrist.

  “Nice to see you again, Thomas,” Cyril said, barely contained mirth in his voice.

  “Oh, do you two know each other?” Harlow said, sounding delighted.

  Thomas ignored the proffered hand. “I didn’t realize you two knew each other,” he said instead, frowning at Harlow.

  “Fairly recent acquaintance,” Harlow said, “but we’re becoming fast friends.”

  “We’re working on a deal of sorts, too,” Cyril said. “I was a little disappointed that you hadn’t stopped by, Thomas, now that you’ve moved into my neighborhood, as it were. Maybe we could schedule a lunch or something. Catch up. It’s been, what, seven years since we’ve had a decent conversation?”

  Thomas narrowed his eyes. “I was too busy trying to stab you three years ago,” he agreed. “So yeah, seven sounds about right.”

  Harlow’s eyes widened. Then he let out a nervous crack of laughter. “Guess you two have history.”

  “You could say that,” Thomas said, his voice tight as he glared at the man who had given him the contract—and was even now waiting to take his company and his soul.

  Number thirteen, Thomas thought, the dagger hidden in his suit jacket almost burning him. If I could just…

  But it wouldn’t work. He’d tried before. Killing Cyril without killing the twelve people who had agreed to protect him—the twelve powerful souls who had signed on to be psychic bodyguards—simply wouldn’t work.

  Until he killed the protectorate, Cyril was untouchable.

  Revenge would have to wait.

  Cyril grinned impudently. “Well, I don’t want to interrupt your dinner. You call me, boy, y’hear?” His drawl was warm, even though his gaze was icy and amused. “After all, you know just where I am, don’t you? And I obviously know how to get to you.”

  With that, and a tip of an imaginary hat, he left.

  “Wow,” Harlow said, still forcing a chuckle. “What was that all ab—”

  “You’re in negotiations with him?” Thomas interrupted.

  “Well, yeah.” Harlow’s eyes lit up. “Didn’t know you were part of the, uh, team.” He winked.

  Thomas wiped his mouth with his napkin. Then he stood. “We’re done here,” he said.

  Harlow’s eyes popped. “What? Wait. What are you talking about?”

  “I don’t do business with people,” Thomas said tightly, pulling out more than enough money to pay the bill and leaving it on the table, “who do business with that man.”

  God damn it, he thought, as he stalked back outside and Yagi appeared like a shadow. Tonight just wasn’t his night.

  Chapter Six

  The next day, Kate made it to the basement. She’d smuggled the scanner and computer from the little empty office Maggie had stuck her in during the great “personnel database” debacle, since it was obvious that no one was using it. Besides, she reasoned, if she managed to actually make Tad the Assaulting Kisser’s program work, she could justify the temporary relocation of the computer stuff.

  Better to beg forgiveness than ask permission, right? And it wasn’t like they were really bastions of ethics down here, anyway.

  “Kate, what is all of
this?” Slim asked, glancing perplexedly as she set up in a secluded corner that had an electrical outlet. There wasn’t wi-fi or Internet, but thankfully, she didn’t need them.

  “Shhh.” The thought of just how much she’d had to do to get the damned thing still made her want to gag. She’d brushed her teeth about twenty times after the great Tad Kissing Fiasco. After all that, she thought, it had better work. “It’s a way to help you guys.”

  “You’ve done enough.” Slim sounded grateful. “The energy bars were surprisingly filling.”

  “I couldn’t just get you whacked out on sugar all the time,” she muttered as she quickly plugged everything in.

  She’d picked a corner of the basement that was shielded by the stacks of papers the guys had already gone through—she’d at least gotten them that organized. At Slim’s suggestion, she’d hidden every time the Overseer had come out, and after her first Ho Ho delivery, all the guys were covering for her.

  Now it was just a matter of seeing if Tad’s software worked.

  Slim watched with interest. “That’s a computer, isn’t it?”

  “Seriously?” She stared at him blankly for a second. “Where are you from, Slim?”

  He looked… Embarrassed wasn’t quite the word. He looked uncomfortable. “Very, very far away.”

  She rolled her eyes at his cryptic response, then handed him a blank piece of parchment. “Do me a favor? Write a page of some script, just gobbledygook. Then do another one with a bunch of crap and the word we’re looking for. Okay?”

  He seemed amused, though he quickly scrawled the words. His handwriting was straight as a razor, almost like a computer had printed it. She nodded, then ran the first through. The software said no match.

  “I still don’t see—”

  “Bingo,” she said, when the second time produced a blinking word: Match. “This should work. I’ll go grab some more documents.”

  She spent the next eight hours running the scans, going through papers. Slim every now and then checked on her, looking indulgent.

  “Go eat a Ho Ho,” she muttered, and he let out a creaky laugh, then looked surprised that the sound had come out of him.

  She almost missed it when the Match flashed at her again. She glanced at the document—it had somebody’s signature, a Victor Klauss, and one of those brown thumbprints, sort of smudged. It also had that symbol, just like the one Slim had drawn.

  “Slim! Come here!”

  He ambled over. “It’s getting late. You should go back to your home,” he said, sounding concerned. “The Overseer will probably…”

  He stopped short when he saw the blinking word. She handed him the document.

  “Tell me,” she said. “Is it right? Did I find one?”

  She watched as his eyes scanned over the paper. Then he looked at her, stunned.

  “It is.”

  “Whoo-hoo!” she said, a little louder than she’d intended. Several of the other workers, including the guy she called Dexter, quickly came over.

  “What?”

  “What is it?”

  “More Ho Hos?” a third asked hopefully.

  “She’s found one,” Slim said.

  The others looked confused. Dexter, she noticed, seemed pissed.

  “Already?” a worker asked.

  “This is good,” Slim said. “We won’t get punished, and there are still twelve yet to find…”

  Dexter stepped up, growling. “This is too soon. You know this is too soon.”

  His eyes seemed to… No. They couldn’t actually glow, Kate thought. And certainly not glow red.

  “The Overseer will be mollified,” Slim said sharply. “It buys us time.”

  “We’ll get sent back.”

  Slim grimaced at Dexter. “He’s just started starving us, and he’s stopped letting us sleep. After that will come the torture. I’ve worked with him before; I know just how good he can be with the whip.”

  Kate gasped. “He’s starving you? Beating you?”

  They ignored her. “I don’t know about you,” Dexter retorted, “but whatever that little bastard can do to us is nothing compared to where we were. I say we drag out this little assignment for as long as possible.” Dexter finally turned to Kate, and she swore his eyes shone, like a cat’s. “Why are you meddling in this?”

  “I… S-Slim told me he was worried about y-your boss,” she stammered. “Didn’t want any of you to get in trouble. If I’d had any idea… If I’d known just how badly you were being mistreated, I would’ve called the cops!”

  Dexter’s face contorted. “Stupid human,” he spat out. “Your pity is why we’ll destroy you.”

  Slim snarled out something in that strange language. Kate simply stared at them, in sheer shock at both the revelations and Dexter’s response.

  “Human?” she echoed. “What the hell are you, then?”

  Dexter stepped up to Kate, grabbing for her before Slim could stop him. “I’m the one who’s going to kill you, no matter what treats you bribe me with. I’m going to devour your flesh.”

  Kate let out a shrill little squeak, falling to the floor when Slim grabbed at Dexter. Dexter’s grip was like a vise, and her shirt tore a little. She reached for her purse; thank God she’d left it open. The pepper spray was in her hand when Dexter shrugged out of Slim’s grip.

  The pepper spray caught him face on, and he stopped for a moment. Then he sneezed.

  Once.

  She stared as he snatched the can out of her hand… then sprayed it in his mouth, laughing at her. He grinned maniacally, and she saw that several of his teeth were sharpened to points.

  “Oh, crap,” she whispered, unable to look away.

  “All right, what’s going on here?” a voice yelled, and the crowd instantly dispersed. Dexter let out one more inhuman snarl of frustration before backing away from her.

  “The Overseer.” Slim sent her a sorrowful look, then blended into the crowd.

  Kate braced herself.

  A little old man, about five feet tall, limped over to her, aided by a cane. “What are you doing here?” he said, his voice like a peevish old grandpa.

  She stared. This? This was the Overseer?

  You meddling kid! Get off my lawn!

  She bit her lip before the adrenaline could set off her giggles. “Um… I was working.”

  “No, you weren’t,” he snapped. “I run the show down here, and I didn’t hire you.”

  “Maggie sent me,” she said. “She told me to work in Contracts.”

  “Maggie.” The Overseer looked at the ceiling, as if praying for patience. “The woman is a certified idiot. You need to leave. You certainly do not belong here.”

  “All right,” she agreed quickly. She’d agree to almost anything to get the hell out of there.

  Dexter was still pissed… still looked like he wanted to take a bite out of her. She swallowed hard.

  “Perhaps I should accompany you,” the old man said.

  “Um… all right.” She gave him a quick once-over. He was capable of starving people and torturing them.

  She suddenly wondered if he was going to escort her from the building… maybe to some out of the way spot to, say, shoot her and eliminate the loose end that knew too much. If he was capable of mistreating the workers this way, who knew where he’d draw the line?

  Her heart started racing, and her palms went damp.

  She quickly scooped up her messenger bag and headed for the elevators. The Overseer limped with her, his scowl keeping the workers at bay. She mouthed “good-bye” to Slim, who nodded at her.

  “Thank you, Kate O’Hara,” he whispered.

  When the elevator doors closed, the old man gave her a shrewd look but didn’t speak. She swallowed hard against the wave of nausea thickening her throat.

  “Lobby’s fine,” she said, thinking of where she could get the most witnesses around her the quickest. Did he have a gun on him? Maybe a sword in that cane of his?

  She was being paranoid.
Wasn’t she? Jesus.

  He hit the button for the fortieth floor. “I think we should both speak to Maggie,” he said, moving surprisingly quickly.

  When they got there, Maggie was talking on the phone. She quickly cut it off, looking shocked when she saw Kate and the old man. “What are you doing here?”

  Kate wasn’t sure which “you” Maggie was referring to.

  “The better question,” the old man said, before Kate could answer, “is what was this little girl doing down in my basement? Do you even know who she is?”

  A-ha. He was checking out her story—he didn’t believe Maggie sent her. Kate swallowed hard, adrenaline starting to redline in her bloodstream. She’d just bolt out of the office if she had to.

  Thankfully, Maggie spluttered in response. “Kate! You were down… in the basement?”

  “You told me to go to Contracts,” Kate said.

  “I did not say to go to the basement!” Maggie replied. “And I meant the legal department! It’s on a totally different floor, you little idiot!”

  Trust Maggie to totally misremember the incident. “You told me it was Contracts. When I asked where it was, you said ‘downstairs’ and then told me to ask security. They sent me to the basement.”

  The old man scowled at the skinny blonde. “Maggie, did you really have no idea where you were supposed to send this kid? Are you really that painfully stupid?”

  Maggie glared at him.

  “She was down with the boys, Maggie. My boys,” the old man clarified. Then his eyes narrowed and he grinned, an evil sort of smirk. “Now that I think about it—maybe you’re not that painfully stupid. I always wondered how those other two pretty temps made it downstairs. Nothing like a little plausible deniability, eh?”

  Kate stared at both of them, bewildered. Exactly what the fuck is going on here?

  “Shut up, Al,” Maggie snapped, getting to her feet.

  “Watch your mouth with me, girlie,” the Overseer said softly. “I’m a lot meaner than Thomas is.” He looked over at Kate. “Don’t go down to the basement again. And if you tell anyone about what you saw, things will go very, very badly for you.”

  He left, his cane thumping on the floor.

  Maggie looked at Kate, apoplectic. “You’re fired. Fired!”