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Story: Guild Boss
Chapter Three
Two months later the Lord of the Underworld returned.
Gabriel Jones was waiting for her at the entrance of the Storm Zone Adventure Tours gift shop. He was dressed in a lot of khaki and leather again, but in addition, he wore a pair of mirrored sunglasses. He was not holding a box of pizza this time.
“You’re two months too late, ghost hunter,” Lucy said.
But she said it under her breath because she was at the wheel of the packed tour bus and she had a full load of passengers seated behind her. The goal was to keep them in good spirits until they got off the bus and funneled into the gift shop. A cheerful bus driver was more likely to get tipped than one who turned surly.
For two months she had been telling herself that Gabriel Jones was the last man she wanted to see, but there he was, one broad shoulder propped against the wall of the gift shop, arms crossed; larger-than-lifeand looking every bit as formidable and as dangerous as he had when he had carried her out of the ruins.
She wondered if he even realized he had single-handedly destroyed her professional reputation and the career she loved. It wasn’t just her finances that were in ruins. Her personal life had also suffered. She now wore an invisible warning sign:Psychically Unstable Talent.
She brought the big glass-and-mag-steel-plated tour bus to a halt, got up from behind the wheel, conjured what she hoped was a bright, vivacious smile, and turned to address the passengers.
“I hope you enjoyed today’s tour of the Storm Zone,” she said. “Otis and I thank you for joining us on this unique, exclusive adventure. Isn’t that right, Otis?”
She glanced at the dust bunny perched on the dashboard. Otis knew the drill. He went into full-adorable mode and waved his favorite new toy, a tiny, stuffed, sequined dust bunny. He chortled enthusiastically.
There was a chorus ofoohs andIsn’t he cute?The kids giggled excitedly. Everyone smiled. In the six weeks that Lucy had been working for Storm Zone Adventure Tours, Otis had become her single biggest asset. The tourists loved him. More importantly, Otis sold toy dust bunnies.
Burt Luxton, the owner of Storm Zone Adventure Tours, had been obliged to increase the orders for toy dust bunnies every week for the past six weeks. The gift shop was flourishing.
“Don’t forget to stop by the gift shop to pick up a souvenir of your tour,” Lucy said. She winked at one of the kids. “You’ll find storm globes, Storm Zone Adventure games, and maps. There are also lots of stuffed dust bunny toys just like the one Otis has. They come in three sizes and assorted colors.”
There was a round ofI want a dust bunny, Mom. Please, please can we get one?
Otis bounded off the dashboard and continued with his routine. He moved from kid to kid, giving each youngster a chance to pet him andadmire the toy dust bunny. Lucy took the opportunity to go into her next pitch.
“As a reminder, tour guides here in the Storm Zone work for gratuities. Tips are very welcome. Don’t forget to check around your seats to make sure you have all of your belongings. The company cannot be responsible for lost items.”
Lucy collected Otis, plopped him on her shoulder, and hauled on the big lever that opened the bus doors. She went down the steps to take up a position at the bottom.
The usual procedure was to assist everyone off the bus while Otis did his cute act on her shoulder. The idea was to make eye contact. The theory was that the personal connection made it a little harder for the cheapskates to slope off without tipping. Otis encouraged the gratuities with enthusiastic chortling. The system worked reasonably well. Usually.
Today, however, it all went wrong, because Otis spotted Gabriel Jones and immediately lost interest in gratuities.
With a wildly excited chortle, he bounded down off Lucy’s shoulder and raced across the ground to greet the man he evidently believed was a long-lost pal.
The members of the tour group noticed Gabriel at about the same moment.
“It’s the new Guild boss,” a boy exclaimed. “This is so high-rez. I’m going to join the Guild as soon as I graduate.”
“No, you are not,” the boy’s mother said. “You are going to college.”
The kid ignored her and rushed off the bus, heading toward Gabriel.
The rest of the tourists were right behind him. Somehow they all managed to ignore Lucy.
“Jones is the Guild man who rescued that drunk woman from the tunnels a couple of months ago,” a middle-aged woman exclaimed as she came down the steps.
She was so excited, she tripped on the bottom step. Lucy caught herand helped her regain her balance. The woman didn’t even say thanks. She rushed off to join the growing crowd around Gabriel.
A perky blonde dressed in jeans that looked as if they had been painted on vaulted down the steps.
“The videos of him carrying that dumb bitch out of the Dead City were awesome,” she said. “They’re making a movie, you know. It’s going to be calledGuild Boss.”
“Language, dear,” her mother said.
Two months later the Lord of the Underworld returned.
Gabriel Jones was waiting for her at the entrance of the Storm Zone Adventure Tours gift shop. He was dressed in a lot of khaki and leather again, but in addition, he wore a pair of mirrored sunglasses. He was not holding a box of pizza this time.
“You’re two months too late, ghost hunter,” Lucy said.
But she said it under her breath because she was at the wheel of the packed tour bus and she had a full load of passengers seated behind her. The goal was to keep them in good spirits until they got off the bus and funneled into the gift shop. A cheerful bus driver was more likely to get tipped than one who turned surly.
For two months she had been telling herself that Gabriel Jones was the last man she wanted to see, but there he was, one broad shoulder propped against the wall of the gift shop, arms crossed; larger-than-lifeand looking every bit as formidable and as dangerous as he had when he had carried her out of the ruins.
She wondered if he even realized he had single-handedly destroyed her professional reputation and the career she loved. It wasn’t just her finances that were in ruins. Her personal life had also suffered. She now wore an invisible warning sign:Psychically Unstable Talent.
She brought the big glass-and-mag-steel-plated tour bus to a halt, got up from behind the wheel, conjured what she hoped was a bright, vivacious smile, and turned to address the passengers.
“I hope you enjoyed today’s tour of the Storm Zone,” she said. “Otis and I thank you for joining us on this unique, exclusive adventure. Isn’t that right, Otis?”
She glanced at the dust bunny perched on the dashboard. Otis knew the drill. He went into full-adorable mode and waved his favorite new toy, a tiny, stuffed, sequined dust bunny. He chortled enthusiastically.
There was a chorus ofoohs andIsn’t he cute?The kids giggled excitedly. Everyone smiled. In the six weeks that Lucy had been working for Storm Zone Adventure Tours, Otis had become her single biggest asset. The tourists loved him. More importantly, Otis sold toy dust bunnies.
Burt Luxton, the owner of Storm Zone Adventure Tours, had been obliged to increase the orders for toy dust bunnies every week for the past six weeks. The gift shop was flourishing.
“Don’t forget to stop by the gift shop to pick up a souvenir of your tour,” Lucy said. She winked at one of the kids. “You’ll find storm globes, Storm Zone Adventure games, and maps. There are also lots of stuffed dust bunny toys just like the one Otis has. They come in three sizes and assorted colors.”
There was a round ofI want a dust bunny, Mom. Please, please can we get one?
Otis bounded off the dashboard and continued with his routine. He moved from kid to kid, giving each youngster a chance to pet him andadmire the toy dust bunny. Lucy took the opportunity to go into her next pitch.
“As a reminder, tour guides here in the Storm Zone work for gratuities. Tips are very welcome. Don’t forget to check around your seats to make sure you have all of your belongings. The company cannot be responsible for lost items.”
Lucy collected Otis, plopped him on her shoulder, and hauled on the big lever that opened the bus doors. She went down the steps to take up a position at the bottom.
The usual procedure was to assist everyone off the bus while Otis did his cute act on her shoulder. The idea was to make eye contact. The theory was that the personal connection made it a little harder for the cheapskates to slope off without tipping. Otis encouraged the gratuities with enthusiastic chortling. The system worked reasonably well. Usually.
Today, however, it all went wrong, because Otis spotted Gabriel Jones and immediately lost interest in gratuities.
With a wildly excited chortle, he bounded down off Lucy’s shoulder and raced across the ground to greet the man he evidently believed was a long-lost pal.
The members of the tour group noticed Gabriel at about the same moment.
“It’s the new Guild boss,” a boy exclaimed. “This is so high-rez. I’m going to join the Guild as soon as I graduate.”
“No, you are not,” the boy’s mother said. “You are going to college.”
The kid ignored her and rushed off the bus, heading toward Gabriel.
The rest of the tourists were right behind him. Somehow they all managed to ignore Lucy.
“Jones is the Guild man who rescued that drunk woman from the tunnels a couple of months ago,” a middle-aged woman exclaimed as she came down the steps.
She was so excited, she tripped on the bottom step. Lucy caught herand helped her regain her balance. The woman didn’t even say thanks. She rushed off to join the growing crowd around Gabriel.
A perky blonde dressed in jeans that looked as if they had been painted on vaulted down the steps.
“The videos of him carrying that dumb bitch out of the Dead City were awesome,” she said. “They’re making a movie, you know. It’s going to be calledGuild Boss.”
“Language, dear,” her mother said.
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