Chapter 2 #2
I’d grown so used to her rapid-fire email responses that I figured she would text the same way. Then again, it was late in the evening on a Friday.
Some people had social lives. She might be on a date. With her boyfriend. Or husband.
My shoulders tightened. So what? I was just asking a simple question. She could respond if and when she chose.
Which apparently wasn’t right now.
I jerked the swing into motion and tipped back my head as it creaked and squeaked. It probably needed WD-40 or whatever one did to aging porch swings. I could get someone out here to fix it, but this was my sanctuary. I didn’t want to deal with more people.
Except, oddly enough, the one I’d just voluntarily texted during my free time. But that was different. She was going to be working for me.
Sure, I’d demanded her work history and not looked at it for four days. That seemed illogical. Wholly unlike me. As if it hadn’t mattered if she was competent, because she’d intrigued me.
But I didn’t operate that way. Besides, I’d been busy.
Right.
The vibration in my hand broke into my thoughts. I glanced down and swiped to see the full message.
Miss Moon:
Who this?
This was going to be my assistant for a week? Her command of the English language concerned me. Then again, maybe she was in a hurry. In the middle of…something.
What I wasn’t going to dwell on.
This is Preston Shaw. Your new boss.
Another delay, this one longer than the last. I tapped my foot while I waited.
Miss Moon:
Did you lose your watch? You’re past business hours.
I am, unavoidably so. Are you engaged?
Miss Moon:
Like to be married? Hell no. Why?
There was no stopping my smirk. Or my sense of relief. Wasn’t going to try to explain that one.
Some things defied all sense.
I meant are you currently engaged in an activity that precludes you from speaking to me.
Miss Moon:
Yes.
That was it. Just yes. No explanation. No apology. I hadn’t apologized for texting so late either.
We were just a pair of unapologetic, inappropriate individuals.
Was that why I’d sought her out tonight? Because I was tired of coloring within the lines, and I could already tell Ryan Goddess Moon did not let anything stop her, let alone rules.
But apparently, she wasn’t going to talk to me now. And if I was disappointed, I would just turn off my damn phone and go take a shower.
I certainly wasn’t going to swallow hard when an audio file appeared on my screen some ten minutes later. I still hadn’t moved.
I pressed play and sinuous, sexy music started to play. After about thirty seconds, feminine laughter rolled over the track.
Hey there, gods and goddesses. It’s time for another episode of the Tarot Tramps. Featuring me, la-la-Luna, and…
My forearm tensed where it rested on the arm of the swing. Husky laughter joined the lighter, frothier version from la-la-Luna.
Ryan Moon, goddess of all things creative, sexual and free.
I wasn’t smirking now. Her voice on the podcast was a seductive tease. Low, deep, with a bit of a rasp as if she’d smoked a full pack of Camels and followed them up with a whisky chaser.
I pushed a hand through my hair. Shifted on the swing. Wanted to turn off the damn audio because it was getting hot out here and not even the chilly breeze could cool me off.
How did April think a woman who sounded like this could work for me? It wasn’t right.
I wasn’t supposed to notice her voice. In fact, I’d felt a hell of a lot more comfortable when Ryan had been a man.
Or so I’d believed.
I gripped the back of my neck to keep myself from hitting pause. And possibly setting my phone on fire so I wasn’t tempted to ever listen to this again.
She continued talking and I found myself leaning toward her voice. Desperate for more even as I knew I should turn it off.
So, what’s new with you, baby? Tell us all about your new job.
La-la-Luna—that could not be her real name—laughed and tapped her mic.
Is this thing on?
You know it is. Stop stalling.
Okay, okay, the new job is fab. I forgot how much I liked retail. People are so fun, you know?
I definitely did not know. If Luna knew some fun people, I suspected they probably weren’t the ones coming to me for assistance with their contentious divorces.
Really? Since when? People come in all flavors and some of them I don’t want to try.
Ryan’s sarcastic response made me grin. That was more like it.
Oh, stop being such a bitter Betty. You’re just pissy because of what happened at the bar last week.
I cocked a brow. Do tell.
Oh, shut up.
Thankfully, Luna did not listen to Ryan.
Your girl, Miss Goddess Moon here, was line dancing on the bar during Country Chaos night and she was getting down, let me tell you. Then she really got down. As in fell off the bar. I’m surprised she didn’t snap her ankle.
I rubbed my now bristly jaw. Weekends were the only time I allowed myself not to shave. But I couldn’t claim much interest in the current state of my facial hair when I had an image of the faceless Ryan G. Moon line-dancing on a bar. Probably dressed in something short and skimpy.
Then again, maybe that wasn’t her aesthetic at all. She could be the sort who preferred long skirts and flowy tops with plunging necklines.
Yes, turning this off would soon be an imperative.
You know I pivoted at the last moment. Do not deny my grace, you wench.
Their laughter was impossible to listen to and not smile. Since that was better than imagining Ryan in whatever she wore to dance in, I was all for joviality.
I think Ryan needs a reading to cheer her up today. What do you all think? We’ll do a quick three card spread for her and then we’ll dive into our Trampbox and see what you all have for us this week.
Ryan sighed. Heavily. The sound verged on a sexual noise that required a rating. Was there such a thing as an X label for a podcast? If not, they might need to create it for this one.
I don’t need to be cheered up. Hello, you know my vibe is permanently set on glow. Okay, okay, fine. Hit me.
I frowned until I heard the unmistakable sound of cards being shuffled.
Also, these cards better tell me I’m going to get laid soon. If not, keep dealing until the universe provides, okay?
I cleared my throat. This was highly inappropriate for me to be listening to, as someone who was going to be giving Ryan a paycheck. I needed to turn this off and not lean forward as I waited to find out if Ryan was going to get laid. Whether she was or not was not my concern.
Besides, were there really cards that could predict sexual activity? That seemed highly dubious.
I had the vaguest understanding of tarot.
They were usually cards the same size as a playing deck with brightly colored pictures of mystical things.
Probably like Aladdin’s flying magical carpet and such.
My mother had once gone to a psychic fair and come back “renewed” but that was about the extent of my metaphysical knowledge.
Okay, pull your three. No cheating.
Bitch, I never cheat.
Liar. You cheat all the time.
More laughter. Then Luna let out a wolf whistle.
Girl, you just pulled the golden goose.
It sounded as if Ryan was rubbing her hands.
If you mean the golden cock, now we’re talking.
My phone vibrated against my leg and I jolted, inadvertently pausing the show. Ryan had decided to follow up on her kill shot podcast and sent me another text.
Miss Moon:
Are you thoroughly scandalized yet? Decided to fire me before my first day?
I’m not finished.
Ryan sent a sideways smile emoji before a line of text I could barely make sense of. My brain—and other parts of me—were thoroughly addled.
Miss Moon:
Takes you a while, does it? Good to know.
Did she…
Was that…
I could not listen to more of this podcast. Unless I made it a two Scotch night and followed it up with an extra long shower afterward.
Just in case she’d forgotten the boundaries, it was time I reminded her. And reminded myself. We hadn’t laid eyes on each other yet. People let down their hair and their reservations on Friday nights and then Monday morning came and regret was swift.
Even if she sounded like sex in a bottle and had a smart ass quip for every occasion.
You’re my temporary assistant.
Miss Moon:
Oh, goodie. Do I get a prize? Or is the honor of being in your presence its own reward?
Your prize is your paycheck.
Miss Moon:
According to April, I’d have better luck in a Cracker Jack box. Do they still sell those?
Did I mention the smart ass quips? I should be annoyed. I was, but not at her. She couldn’t make remarks if April hadn’t placed these complaints in her mind.
I paid in line with other legal assistants in the area, thank you very much.
Considering the contents of your résumé, I don’t think you merit a pay raise.
Miss Moon:
What’s wrong with it?
Not much applicable experience. Regardless, since you interrupted the podcast, what did your reading say?
Miss Moon:
Wut?
Her misspelling of what made me shake my head. I truly hoped her text etiquette was a far cry from her typical grammar usage.
Your reading on the podcast. About the golden cock.
I truly did not mean to type that. I’d never realized before that my fingers were adversely affected by my single Scotch.
Miss Moon:
Oh, you really were listening, even past the intro. Well, far be it from me to keep you from hearing all about my sexual future. I’m touched you’re curious.
I never said that.
Miss Moon:
No, but you asked. A question usually indicates interest.
I thought you were too busy to talk to me.
Miss Moon:
I finished with Ben & Jerry so figured why not?
For a second, my temples tightened with a sensation dangerously akin to jealousy. But that couldn’t be possible. I did not know this woman. If she was having a ménage, good for her. Or not, as long as she showed up Monday morning.
Ice cream?
Miss Moon:
What else? You don’t get out much, do you?
If she only knew the half. But the question reminded me I’d overstepped big time tonight, and my conscience decreed it was past time to put an end to it.
Besides, I had another reason for needing that shower now, and it wasn’t just because it had been a long day. Ryan’s sexy voice saying the word cock ranked up there with some of the hottest fantasy material I’d ever encountered.
But what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her. Besides, in person we wouldn’t have this weird chemistry or whatever it was. Probably felt only by me.
Which referenced the whole haven’t been out in a very long while thing. I couldn’t even identify iconic ice cream upon first reading.
Though the ache between my legs likely had something to do with my lack of brain functioning right now. There was no other reason I’d continued this conversation.
I’ll see you Monday morning at nine sharp, Ms. Moon.
Miss Moon:
Nine-thirty?
Nine.
Miss Moon:
Nine-fifteen?
Nine.
Miss Moon:
What if I bring you fresh donuts?
I frowned. That traitor April had revealed my weakness.
Nine-ten, donuts in hand.
Miss Moon:
You have a deal. *winky face.*
I swiped away the message and went in to take my shower. I also brought my mini stand into the bathroom so I could prop up my phone to listen to the rest of her reading.
She might not be guaranteed a golden cock, but I had one in hand by the end of it.