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Mindy

Out of eight step brothers, Waylon is the normal one. The sane, rational one who’s married to a wonderful woman with a beautiful child. Waylon is the only one I trust.

The only one I’d give almost every cent in my bank account. A bank account I worked for years to build up.

My security blanket quite literally, since it was going to be used for first, last, and security if I ever had to move apartments.

You can handle this.

You can handle anything.

Fea said it shouldn’t be a problem for me to get this job. My soon-to-be boss, Maddox Locke, is desperate to find someone to care for his snakes. And I’m desperate to get a second… third job, so everything should be perfect.

But in reality, everything is a mess.

All I need to do is kill it on this interview.

Get the job.

And then work until I can’t see straight for a few months and everything will be just fine.

A few months… Now, I’m lying to myself.

Stepping out of the subway on Willow Street is just as odd a feeling as it was the first time.

What subway station in Urbium smells fresh and clean? Sometimes they smell like the chemicals that the city uses to pretend to sanitize filth, but it never smells like this.

Nor is there a single homeless person, panhandler, or drug dealer loitering around to terrify the passersby.

Odd.

The last time I was here, I didn’t have time to wander around and look at the little parks, but today, I’m rudely early to my interview.

The cobblestone streets and wrought iron lamp posts are works of art themselves, but the graffiti lining the walls of the park should be in a museum.

The road is blocked off to everything but foot traffic, which only makes sense if there was a special event going on, but there’s nothing but a few people walking down the street and lots of kids playing in a playground and a dozen kids playing soccer alone on the street.

Where are the adults?

Oh, there they are, down a little further shooting hoops. My heart stops… Hot dads… I shouldn’t stand here and gape, but it’s incredibly challenging to pull my gaze away. It lands on graffiti I’ve been dying to look at and the drool-worthy guys are forgotten. I wander into the little park to get a better look.

It can’t be.

Why would one of the best street artists, maybe the best modern artist of my generation, paint on this random building? This neighborhood is too gentrified for street art.

“Do you like it?” An older woman practically sneaks up on me.

“No.” It’s not my style of art at all. “But the line work, color play, and depth are amazing. I’d almost swear it was done by Jacko.”

“That’s because it was many years ago. He’s freshened it up a few times as the sun has bleached the colors, but the intensity has always been there.”

“Do you know—” What am I seeing? Who in their right mind walks around with that many diamonds on? They’re real. I mean, I can’t be sure, but there’s something about the way this woman holds herself that screams old money. “Are you crazy?”

I shouldn’t have said that, but she has to be.

“A little bit. But not in the way you think. Willow Street is safe.”

No place is that safe, especially in Urbium.

A knife appears in her hand. “And if your world isn’t safe, you make it safe.”

How? What? That’s brilliant and impossible. “Did I step out of the subway into a fantasy land? Kids are playing in the street. More hot men than I’ve ever seen at one time in my life are running around. The sculpture on that fountain looks like it should be in a museum. And a knife appeared like magic.”

The woman laughs. “Anything can happen on Willow Street.”

Maybe I overslept, and this is all a dream. Even I couldn’t imagine the detail on the fountain or all those sculpted bodies.

“You’re new around here. Did you just move in?”

Like I could afford to live in a neighborhood like this. “No. I’m here for a job interview.”

“Good. You single?”

“Very. You a matchmaker?” Why did I just say that? I have no plans to give my one go at marriage a try yet.

She looks me up and down. “Sometimes. You have potential, but we’ll see.” As fast as she showed up, she disappears down a back alleyway.

This is strange, even for Urbium.

Though I want to linger in the little park and examine all the details of these works of art, I don’t want to be late for my interview. It’s too tempting not to trail my fingers through the fountain on my way out. Maybe the dream of this place won’t wear off when I step into my interview.

But first, I need to make it past the hot dads without drooling. To make it even more of a challenge, they’re playing shirts versus skins.

Do they have no care for the delicate female sensibilities? I almost snort at my own joke. Delicate isn’t a word that I would ever use to describe myself, even as a child. That doesn’t stop me from feeling the need to place my hand on my forehead and fan myself as I walk down the street.

That should either be illegal, or broadcast on the local television for the edification of womankind.

I sigh with relief as I make it past and stop at the door to an elegant brick building. The glass and metal door is yet another piece of art. Sadly, one I don’t have time to appreciate.

Game time. I plaster a smile on my face and step into the building.

Even the lobby of this building is fancy with its pretty chevron floor. They’ve got it shined till it’s almost a mirror.

Should I even be here?

“You Mindy?”

Don’t stare.

Don’t stare at the incredibly amazing-looking muscle man. They must have a copy machine that prints out stunning-looking men because this neighborhood is filled with them. “I’m Mindy Peters. You must be Mr. Locke.” At least I’ll have some eye candy, as long as he isn’t the handsy type. Fea said he was a gentleman, and that I wouldn’t have to worry about anything like that.

“Nope. My name is Canyon.” He gives me a slow smile.

Which is completely dreamy and I’m sure dozens of women fall for it every day, but he doesn’t do a single thing for me. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Canyon.”

“Just Canyon.” He stands there staring at me for a long moment.

This is just silly. “Are you going to take me to Mr. Locke?”

“Oh, yeah.” He shakes his head and turns towards the elevator. “You’re not from around here.”

Huh? “I live in Urbium.”

“But not on The Street?”

Oh, he’s asking me if I’m one of them. “No.”

“You thinking of moving here?”

As if. “No.”

He looks me up and down one more time, probably taking in what could only be considered eclectic color choices. “You should think about it. You’d fit in really well around here.”

“Do you always ask strange women to move into your neighborhood?”

“Pretty ones, yep.”

For some reason, I find him funny and not threatening. “Does that line ever work?”

Canyon grins. “Never used it before.”

“Something tells me you have plenty of them that do.” Why did I say that? He’ll think I’m flirting.

“Yup. But it didn’t work on you. Why’s that?”

Because I’m impervious to hot men.

That’s not quite true. My boss, Adonis, makes me all flustered. “I’m impervious to male charm.”

He laughs as we step off the elevator into a small area with three doors and an empty desk.

Each door has a keypad and some sort of scanner next to it.

What kind of business needs that level of security?

One door is ajar.

Canyon stops. “Since you’ll be around for a while, I can practice my lines on you.”

It’s my turn to laugh. “I think I’ll be too busy.”

“You’re never too busy to flirt.” His grin is too precocious not to laugh. “There you go. Now you’re ready for your interview.”

Did Canyon do all that just to relax me?

He steps into the open door. “Your interview is here. I think you should hire her.”

“Oh, you do?” a deep, rough voice answers.

“Yup. She likes snakes and isn’t afraid of me.”

The smile in Canyon’s voice erases the last of my nerves.

“I’m not hiring some woman for you to flirt with.”

The strange man’s voice is downright sexy when he’s irritated. Rather than let Canyon get in trouble, I step forward. “You don’t need to worry about that.”

“Hey now. Don’t break my heart.” Canyon winks at me.

Break his heart, my foot. “Something tells me it would take a lot more than my apathy to do that.”

“See. I told you she’s perfect for the job.” Canyon struts away.

“Ignore him. He’s an idiot sometimes.” The man steps forward from where he’s standing in the shadows of the corner of this massive room and my heart stops for a second.

Maddox Locke is the polar opposite of Adonis. Where Adonis is tall and lean with sculpted muscles, this man is broad, heavily muscled, and rugged. Adonis has a friendly, open smile, and this aloof man studies you with dark intense eyes. Has he ever smiled?

Then there’s how they dress. Adonis mastered that comfortable preppy look in a polo and khaki slacks. Maddox Locke is right out of a romance novel in his dark custom-made suit—No suit off the rack is going to fit a man like that—perfectly knotted tie, and shiny shoes. He’d make men tremble with fear in both the boardroom and on the street.

Women probably fall at his feet panting.

I’d believe him if he told me he was a mafia boss or a billionaire whose only goal was to ravage women until he was caught by his one true love.

Stop it.

You sound like a silly schoolgirl who’s never seen a man before. Pull yourself together! This man is about to become your boss. “That’s okay. He seems harmless.” Show him what he needs to see to get that done. “I’m Mindy Peters. Fiona said you were looking to hire someone to care for your snakes. I have dozens of references and have cared for many snakes over the years. In high school, I did an internship at the local zoo working with reptiles. Snakes are my favorite.”

The lighting changes, pulling my attention away from the man in front of me. Where there once were blank walls are now snakes. Dozens of them. They draw me in. “Wow!! There are so many: albinos, super whites, a piebald, a cow python…They’re beautiful.” One after another I pass the extraordinary animals. Snakes most people wouldn’t even imagine being real.

“Thank you.”

Wanting to see all of them at once, I move from enclosure to enclosure until my heart stops. “These are… That’s a gaboon viper.”

“Yes, it is.”

“And that’s a black mamba.” The entire wall on this side is covered in venomous snakes. My whole body aches with disappointment as I turn around. “I’m sorry, but I can’t take this job. The non-venomous ones I’m fine with, but these… I’m not trained to handle these. If I even tried, I could endanger my own life and the lives of others.”

“Are you sure about that? I pay very well.”

“Even for a million dollars, there’s no way I could even think about handling the spicy noodles in that room.”

Maddox laughs. “Spicy noodles?”

I shrug. That isn’t the funniest thing I’ve called them.

“Do you really know how to care for snakes?”

“Not those.” I point to the nope ropes. “I don’t play with anything that can kill me.”

“The non-venomous ones?”

“Yeah. Those aren’t a problem. I know how to change the substrate, clean the cages, soak them, feed them live and frozen food, and even clean off their shed if need be.”

“Then you’re hired.”

He’s pretty to look at but doesn’t listen well. “I told you—”

“Only for the non-spicy noodles. I have several herpetologists who take care of the other ones.”

Oh. Of course, he does. Spicy noodles are dangerous when handled improperly, and this guy doesn’t look like he does anything improperly. “I need a flexible schedule.” A really flexible schedule.

“You can come and go as you please. I’ll provide you with a code to the elevator and the snake room.” Maddox walks towards the entrance of his office.

As I follow him, I try not to stare at the wide shoulders and tapered waist.

Maddox isn’t exceedingly tall. He’d be the perfect height for me to set my head on his shoulder while dancing.

What are you even thinking about? Maddox is your boss.

Then again, so is Adonis.

Work. You have to do work.

He stops by the empty desk. “The door on the left leads to the venomous room. And the door on the right leads to the non-venomous room.” The door just seems to open for him without having to put in a code. It leads to a locker room of sorts. “You can store your stuff here. And we will provide coveralls to protect your clothing.”

That’s great. Not smelling like snake poop on the cab ride home or having to wash clothes that stink all the time will be nice. Maddox smells nice.

Don’t think about the fact that your boss has a nice clean scent. It’s not overly harsh or cloying, like most men’s cologne.

You’ve gone loony.

He moves to the next door. “This is the snake room.”

It isn’t as fancy as Maddox’s office, but it’s well-organized and clean. Why are there so many extra cages?

A lavender snake slides up the glass on one of those empty cages.

“There are more.” Lots more than I expected.

“Yeah. We rotate them on occasion so that I can see all of them.”

Switching cages.

The scope of work that will need to be done boggles my mind. This isn’t a fifteen to twenty-hour-a-week job. “Um. How many hours were you expecting this to take?” I could spend two hours a night just spot-cleaning all these cages.

“It’s been a full-time job.”

No.

No.

How would I even have time for forty hours?

I’d have to give up most of my Saturdays, just leaving me a few hours for shopping and laundry. Maybe if I gave up my overtime on Sunday. No, I need that. It’s bound to pay way more than cleaning cages.

“But you’re welcome to set your own hours. Just leave notes on what you’ve done and what you haven’t done.”

He’s making this super easy for me.

Too easy. Nothing in my life has been this easy.

But I need this right now. This would get my bank account up so fast, even at fifteen dollars an hour. There’s no need to risk losing the job trying to go high with my prices. But I normally charge twenty dollars.

What do I do?

Be brave.

But brave risks everything. “I charge fifteen dollars an hour.” So much for being brave.

Maddox stares at me for a long time. “No. I don’t accept that.”

What? Why are the rich ones always so cheap? “I guess I can go down to—”

“No. You misunderstand me. Fifteen dollars an hour isn’t enough. I refuse not to pay my employees a livable wage.”

Is that my jaw dropping to the floor? Did he really just say that? Because my ears are hearing things. No one offers you more money than you ask for. “Um.” What do I even say?

“Shall we say forty?”

An hour? I’m going to pass out. That’s... That’s as much as I make with overtime at my main job. It’s too much. Way too much.

“I’ll take that as a yes. Let me give you the codes and a copy of the schedule.”

A little of the pressure clamping down on my heart relaxes. “Can you tell me a little about the snakes? Which ones are bitey?”

His lips tip up. “None of them. We handle all the snakes regularly. A few of them are food motivated, so watch your fingers when they’re eating, especially with Hot Dog over here.”

Who names a snake Hot Dog? Especially since Hot Dog is an emerald tree boa with vibrant coloring and a unique pattern. “There’s a story behind the names.”

“There is.” He doesn’t add anything more.

It doesn’t matter if my boss is the hottest mercurial man I’ve ever met. All that matters is I have a job.