“When her foot got free, it came down on top of mine.”
Another lie. It wasn’t an accident. She stomped down so hard, I wanted to cry on the spot, but I held it together. I guess I should be happy she didn’t aim for my nuts.
“Who is this girl?” Graham asks, looking like he wants to hire her. I guess he could always use a good security guard, because that woman is lethal.
“I don’t know.” I barely saw her face. But what I did see was beautiful.
Her dark hair was all messy, falling around her face, probably from the struggle to free the shoe. The whole thing took only a couple of minutes before she was off, stomping across the street at a fast clip. Part of me was relieved she was gone while another wondered if I’ll ever see her again.
Chapter Two
Ben
“Greatjob today, Ben.”
I’m standing next to my desk, looking at my notes from the meeting when I hear his voice.Clive. He’s leaning against my doorway with a smug look on his face. And no, I didn’t miss the hint of sarcasm in his voice.
“Oh, yeah?” I can’t think of anything else to say to him because I’m pissed enough to fire the asshole. Well, I would if I had that kind of power, which I don’t.
“Yeah. Once everyone got done laughing at you getting beat up by a chick—”
I can’t take it. “First of all, that’s sexist. Women aren’tchicks. And if Graham heard you say shit like that, you’d be out on your ass.” Maybe I should be recording this asshole.
He’s mumbling as he turns back toward his desk, but I’m still able to make out his words. “Whatever. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, asshole?”
“I heard that,” I yell out my office door.
“Good.”
Wow. When did Clive turn into this insubordinate asswipe?
I move to my doorway. Clive’s sitting at his desk, rummaging through a drawer. “Maybe you should put in for a transfer. I don’t think this is working.”
The man stops doing whatever he’s doing and slowly turns to face me. It’s rather creepy the way he’s doing it. And his expression, well, let’s just call it ominous. “That’s not going to happen,Ben.” He practically spits my name out.
What the fuck? What did I ever do to make this guy resent me so much?
He’s got a smirk on his face now. “I’d like nothing more than to be away from you—the wannabe superhero.”
Wannabesuperhero?
Well, he’s wrong about that. I didn’twantto be a superhero. It was thrust upon me. I had no choice. One day I was just Ben Schilling, average marketing guy; the next, I was Ben Schilling, savior of all mankind.
Okay, perhaps I’m exaggerating just a tad, but the main idea is true. I was walking home when it happened the first time, on my way to the subway after working late. I always take the R to my neighborhood in LIC, or Long Island City, an up-and-coming part of New York that’s a good fit for me. Sure, my apartment building is crap, but I’ve got everything I need around me and it’s fairly safe.
So I was walking along, minding my own business, when I heard this yipping sound. Kind of like the sound the wind makes when it’s pounding against a thin piece of sheet metal. Anyway, it was getting louder by the second, so I stopped walking and looked around me. When I realized the sound was above me, I looked up and saw something falling. Without thinking, I held my arms out and adjusted myself so I could try to catch whatever it was. The closer it got, the more I realized it wasn’t metal making that sound but something alive. I ended up launching myself forward, onto the sidewalk, in time to catch a small ball of fur.
That’s how I met Sky, my dog, my sidekick. She fell from the sky that day and into my arms like it was meant to be. Well, not at first. At first, I did what I could to find her owner. I figured she had to have lived in one of the two buildings she fell between, but there were no balconies on either building, and they were tall as hell. I’m talking thirty stories each. She either fell from an open window, from the top of the massive structures, or from something flying overhead. But I left my information with management of both buildings and put about a hundred signs around, but not even signs out on the street for a week produced her owner. So, I did what anyone would do: I kept her. And I’m so glad I did, because she’s the best friend a guy could have.
Shit. I smile just thinking about her. I’m not sure what kind of dog she is, but I’m positive she’s not a purebred. She’s definitely a mix of something, like a Yorkie, a Pomeranian, and a rat. Sure, she’s not the prettiest girl in the world, but she’s the most loyal. The best part? The reaction I get the second I walk into my apartment after work. She’s euphoric, jumping all around, barking and happy. Happy to seeme. I can say with 100 percent certainty that no one has ever been that excited to see me. Ever.
Sky goes with me just about everywhere. Everywhere except work, that is. Sure, Graham has changed since he found his girl, but he hasn’t changed that much. Until hell freezes over and we’re allowed to bring pets to work, I make it up to Sky by taking her to the park almost every night. In return, I get unconditional love and adoration from her.
A bonus is the attention she gets me from the beautiful women of New York City. She draws them like flies when we’re out and about. And when I tell said ladies about how she came to be mine, well, that seals the deal. Yep, Sky Schilling is my lucky charm.
“Clive,” I say with as much constraint as I can muster. “I’ve told you about my… activities in confidence.” I don’t want everyone to know about my special set of skills. “I don’t appreciate you making light of it.”
“Jesus, you saved a dog. You help old ladies cross streets, and one time”—he holds up one finger—“one timeyou stopped that bank robber.” He rolls his eyes. Heactuallyrolls his fucking eyes. “One time does not a ‘superhero’ make.” He uses air quotes around superhero, and I want to punch him in the face.
