Drew: Of course. Anything you need.
Drew: I’ll bring cookies.
2
The waitingroom at Synergy was fancier than ours. It must have been at least twice the size. Instead of the uncomfortable chairs Janet bought at a garage sale, there were dark leather couches. While the rest of the building had men in lab coats walking in and out of doors, everybody here wore neatly pressed suits. They’d walk up to the door on the far side of the waiting room and scan their badges. The door made a slight hiss as the locks opened, and they pushed through.
I realized as I glanced at the abstract paintings that I hadn’t spent much time here. Despite working on the other side of the building, I mostly kept to Secret Identities. Perhaps I needed to take a stroll once in a while and explore the rest of the building?
I stared at the plate of croissants. Store-bought. By thetime I got home, bandaged myself, and cleaned the blood off my suit, it had been well past bedtime. I could only hope that the baker at the grocery store baked them with love. It made all the difference.
Other than the door, Ricardo’s lobby lacked sound. It could be from the gray rug or the abstract art on the walls, but it didn’t breathe. It almost made me miss Janet’s Norwegian death metal. Almost.
“Psst.”
The gentleman sitting next to me had been bouncing his leg since I arrived. He held a manila envelope that probably contained his resume. I didn’t look over so much as I studied his vibrating leg. Thick. Somewhere between Wyatt and a normal human. When I didn’t look up, he leaned closer. He wore beige khakis, but the crease at the knee meant he hadn’t ironed them this morning.
He gave a gentle elbow to my bicep. I held in the hiss. There wasn’t enough Tylenol in the world to stop the ache caused by Sledge. If it weren’t for my powers, I’m sure there’d be bruises creeping past the collar of my shirt.
“Psst.”
He probably wanted a croissant to settle his nerves. “Would you like?—”
“Is there a reason the receptionist is eyeing you like you insulted her dog?”
Even though Synergy and Secret Identities started at the same time, Ricardo’s company had developed a corporatefeel. I thought it might be because the furniture attempted to be “corporate chic” or because they had a specificlookfor their employees. But that wasn’t the most glaring difference.
Tia.
In the lush waiting room,shewas the primary difference. Not the modern decor, or the accent lighting, or the plush leather chairs changed the ambiance more than she did. She couldn’t be any different from our receptionist if she tried. Janet would have already shouted a welcome and most likely copped a feel. We humored her obsession with butts. Tia, on the other hand, could have been a creation of Medusa herself. Her hair had been pulled back into a ponytail so tight it gave her a permanent resting-bitch-face. If Tia had superpowers, she’d have murdered me where I sat.
“It wasn’t me who insulted her,” I mumbled. Tia never broke eye contact. “She has beef with a mutual friend.”
The new hire leaned in closer, hand covering his mouth as he spoke. “I’m getting ‘kill you in your sleep’ vibes.”
Tia set one of her troll dolls on the counter, the blue jewel in its belly glimmering. The same one Janet swore she had stolen. Eventually, they’d fight to the death or kiss. Maybe both. If I could have rescued it for Janet, I would have. In a small act of defiance, my powers turned the jewel black.
“She won’t wait until I’m sleeping.” I wasn’t as strong assome, but I’d win an arm wrestling match with normal humans. That didn’t make me feel any safer, as Tia imagined my head exploding.
“Did she lick her lips?”
He smelled of charcoal from a fresh fire and mouthwash. I finally turned to study my waiting room companion. When he leaned back, I had to fight to keep my composure. The color of his goatee couldn’t have been bought from a bottle. A true redhead, with hair that almost looked orange, and it carried from his beard to the perfect five o’clock shadow all the way to the short, cropped hair. It reminded me of the sunrise, and nestled in the center were eyes that almost glowed green.
“Your eyes are beautiful,” I muttered.
His cheeks turned red as he smiled. His grin showed teeth, but more importantly, was the apple of his cheek. I could almost?—
Wait. Had I just said that out loud? Hello, perfect stranger. Let me admire you in the most awkward manner possible. “I’m so sorry. Color is kind of my thing. I didn’t mean?—”
His hand touched my arm. My fingers relaxed, and my muscles softened as I leaned back in the chair. Knowing I had just made a fool of myself didn’t matter as much as the spot where his fingers touched my shirt. I fought to maintain eye contact… and stare into those gorgeous eyes.
“You’re fine,” he said.
“You too. Fine, I mean.” My powers went to work, keeping my cheeks from turning red hot. “Thanks. Good luck with your interview.”
“Same to you.”
While I melted into the leather couch, he returned to gripping his folder, his leg bouncing up and down. There was no going back now. Sitting next to the handsome ginger bear, I couldn’t help but inspect the rest of him. Big hands? Check. Wide shoulders? Check. Khakis ruining a perfect bulge? Unfortunately, check. I hope he got the job. If nothing else, we could use more eye candy in the lobby. Maybe I’d accidentally bump into him… and spill my mocha latte. Oh, no. Then I’d have to help pat him dry.
