Junkyard Dog

Sitting at a cleared off table, I find a boy and girl writing with pencils in math workbooks. The children stare at me, and I stare back at them. When they don’t look away, I glare hard at Candy’s offspring.

“Why are you here?” I ask.

“Mom has work to do,” the girl says.

“Where is Candy?”

“In the bathroom.”

I take a step closer and really turn on the scary glare. The boy decides he’s had enough and focuses on his school crap. A dark haired version of Candy, the girl won’t relent. She narrows her brown eyes at me, and I swear the little bitch is trying to intimidate me.

“Stop fucking looking at me,” I growl.

“Stop looking at me,” she growls back.

Admiring her guts, I smile. “Nicely done.”

The girl isn’t sure if I’m tricking her, so she keeps glaring. Candy appears from the bathroom and looks startled to see me.

“I didn’t say you could bring them here,” I growl at her.

Without missing a beat, Candy replies, “You didn’t stay I couldn’t.”

“No, I didn’t. I fucked up. Now get them out of here.”

“I’m waiting for a phone call,” she says, sitting at her desk. “I can’t leave unless you’re planning to stay in the office and answer the phone yourself.”

“Make them leave and you stay.”

“That’s a really great plan but no.”

“Candy, we need to have a conversation about boundaries and work expectations.”

“Right now? I’m pretty busy currently.” Candy leans back in her chair and takes a nail file to her pinkie finger. “How did your meeting go?”

“Like shit.”

“People are stupid. What can you do?”

Frowning, I don’t like how her words amuse me. Candy still makes me uneasy. I want to fuck her, but she’s got kids, and I don’t like kids. I’ve hated all my assistants, but I don’t hate Candy. It might be possible to learn not to hate her kids too.

“What are their names?” I ask.

“Chipper and Cricket.”

“That’s right. I remember you saying they have stupid names.”

The twins look at me and then their mother. She waves her hand as if telling them to ignore me. They return to their work.

“Their father picked their names.”

“You should have insisted on better names.”

“Having unique names makes us unique. Wouldn’t you agree, Angus?” she asks, emphasizing my name.

I swear her daughter snickers and sounds exactly like her mother. I should hate knowing there are two of them in the world, but I don’t. The world is a stupid place full of morons. Having more than one of Candy makes me hopeful for humankind.

“Come to my office.”

Candy follows me immediately. I know she thinks I’ll put my foot down about having the kids in the office. She’s ready for my rage, so I give her something else. She isn’t the only sneaky person in the room.

“Have you found a place to live yet?”

“No. I’m still looking around. I don’t know dick about White Horse.”

I open my address book and find a number for her. After writing it on a slip of paper, I hand her the information.

“This realtor handles my rental properties. I have a few empty places on the north side. That’s where you’ll want to live if you want your weird kids going to good schools. The east side has good schools too, but the people there are arrogant fuckers. You won’t fit in as a single mom with a stripper name. The south is too close to Hickory Creek, and that place is a shithole. The west side is too close to Common Bend, and the schools are full of junkies’ kids.”

Candy looks over the number and then nods. Her gaze is soft and appreciative. I drink in her attention and feel like a junkie myself.

“You can pick whatever empty house I have available.”

“What’s the rent like?” she asks, still watching me with a warm expression.

I think about kissing her. If my lips taste hers, I know I’ll devour her whole. Based on her expression, I don’t think she’d stop me. Then I remember her kids in the next fucking room and realize I’m going home alone again tonight.

“No rent,” I say, finally answering her. “Just get your kids into a real school, so they don’t end up being fucking morons like most people in this town.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

Sitting in my chair, I lean back and frown at her. “I don’t have to do much of fucking anything.”

“No, but that’s because you’re scary and rich. This gesture is you being nice. You don’t need to do that.”

“I went through a shitfuck of assistants before I ended up with those temp broads. If giving you a rental house keeps you happy and I don’t need to learn a new moron’s name, it’s no skin off my ass.”

Candy smiles at me, but the warmth in her eyes is gone. She’s in smartass mode again.

“This is like the end of one of those Scrooge movies where the mean man gets all sweet and syrupy about humanity.”