Divine and Dateless (24 page)

“That’s why I like you,” he said as he spewed more food all over the table. Sheesh. This guy’s mouth was blasting more ash than Pompeii. “We’ve got so much in common.”

Sometime during the conversation, he told me he wasn’t from the Midwest, but a small farming community in rural Washington. I think he told me his name was Jeb, short for Jebediah, but I liked the ring of Hammerhead so much better. I just hoped I wouldn't call him Hammer by mistake. That would be bad, considering Jeb had mentioned he might be able to help me get a job on level thirteen.

“Okay, Jeb.” I interrupted. “So about this job you said you had for me.”

“Pluckin’ eggs from hens and delivering them to the store.”

“Is it hard?”

“It ain’t nothing." His hammer swayed as he shook his head, causing the blood trickling down his neck to flow faster. "I’ll teach you."

Plucking eggs from chickens wasn't exactly my dream career, but what choice did I have? There was no way I was reporting to level two on Monday. “What do I need to do to get this going?”

“Come out to the farm with me tonight. I’ll get you started tomorrow morning.” The guy's face was an open book, and the guilt reflecting in his eyes before he averted his gaze told me he was hiding something.

“Can’t I just show up in the morning?”

He shook his head, momentarily making eye contact before averting his gaze again. "You've got to live at the farm if you want to work it.”

Those few bites of mashed potatoes soured in my stomach. What the hell was he hiding? Were these radioactive chickens? Or maybe my bed was a makeshift cot made out of hay and my shower was a trough used for the pigs.

“I’ve never lived on a farm before." I swallowed hard, needing to know what I was in for, but fearing his answer, too. "What are the living arrangements?”

“Your dog would love it out there." He smiled and then looked away. "He’ll have all kinds of space to run around.”

Of course, but no mention of whether or not I'd like it.

I set my fork down and ducked my head until I met his gaze. “Where am I supposed to sleep?”

He looked up, his eyes shifting from me to the table and then to somewhere beyond my shoulder. “Maybe me and you could make an arrangement for that, too.”

Oh, God. I had a bad feeling about this. A really bad feeling. “Excuse me?”

“I’m gonna tell it to you straight, Ash." He finally gave me a long look, his face flushed a glowing shade of red all the way to the root of his hammer. "Growing up back home, me and my brother worked the farm morning till night. We didn’t have much time for nothin’ else.”

“Okay?” I bunched the tablecloth in my hands, knowing I wasn't going to be pleased with the direction of this conversation.

He cleared his throat and then began fiddling with the base of his hammer, making this squishing sound that reminded me of the suction noise my feet used to make when I walked through the mudroom in wet rain boots. Ewww. Was he trying to distract me or gross me out?

He dropped his hand to the table, the tips of his fingers smearing the white linen cloth with blood. “I’m going to the Penthouse soon, and I hear I get my own pretty girl to do whatever I want with.”

“They’re called valets,” I corrected through a tight-lipped scowl, hoping Hammerhead would read my body language and drop it.

He shrugged, drumming his fingers on the table and painting the linen with bloody finger streaks. “I ain’t never been with a girl before, and I don’t want to mess things up. I was kinda hoping if I scratch your back, you could scratch mine, too.” A flash of understanding lit behind his vacant eyes. “Ya know, since I’m getting you this job and all.”

“So let me get this straight.” I slowly rose and glowered down at him. “If I agree to have sex with you, you’ll get me a job at your farm.”

He turned up his chin, clearly oblivious to my hostile body language. “Yep.”

I shoved my chair against the table and threw my napkin in my plate. “Come on, Jack,” I called under the table. “Time to get the hell out of here.”

I shot Jeb visual daggers as I planted both hands on my hips. “I wouldn’t sleep with you if you were the last Hammerhead in Purgatory. Oh, and the comb over isn’t working. Put a freaking bandage on that thing, or a really tall hat. Sheesh.” I waved at his bloody obstruction. “How am I supposed to eat looking at that thing?” Before turning my back on him, I pasted on a sweet-as-candy smile. “Have a nice day.”

“We need to talk.” I fanned my nose as I stood outside Inés’s apartment door. The stench of rotten eggs wafted from inside her apartment. No doubt she’d permed someone’s hair that day. I didn’t mind so much, as long as there were no blow-dryers involved. Besides, the smell was like roses and honey compared to the fumes I’d be inhaling at level two putrid Purgatory park. Good thing I’d left Jack at my apartment with his new steak bone. I wasn’t so sure he’d be able to stomach the smell after munching on bloody fingers and table scraps.

“Come in,
chica
.” She ushered me inside as she untied an apron from her waist. “My noon perm just left.” Her eyes bugged as she shut the door behind us. “That sexy uncle of yours was at your apartment.” She flapped her hands around my face. “Where you been?”

“With my creditor, and then on the worst date in the history of history.”

“A date?” She wagged an accusatory finger in my face. “What you goin’ on a date for?”

I wondered what that was all about. What did she care if I went on a date?

But then the thought of me on an official date with Hammerhead made my skin crawl. Ewww. “It wasn’t exactly a date. More like me trying to find a new job. Did my uncle say when he’d be back?”

She flashed a smile brighter than the Vegas strip on New Year’s. “Tomorrow.” She ran a hand through her frizzy, poofy mullet, which was streaked with gold highlights. “He noticed my hair. I colored it. See?”

“I’m sorry. I’ve got a lot on my mind.” I forced a note of enthusiasm in my voice. “It looks great.”

If you’re performing for ’80s karaoke night,
I almost added.

“So what did your creditor say?” she asked as she began sweeping up strands of blonde hair off the floor.

I fell into her styling chair with a groan. “I have to pick up trash on level two.”

“Ewww.” Her eyes bugged out so much, I feared her fake lashes would pop off. “You must have really pissed off Loveass.”

“You don’t need an assistant, do you?” I twirled the tail end of my sash around my finger as I channeled my inner-Jack and flashed my most pitiful puppy dog expression. “I can wash hair and clean up.”

Inés smirked before picking up a blow-dryer and aiming it right at my head.

Screaming, I flew out of the chair and across the room. “That wasn’t funny!”

She shook her head, clucking her tongue. “I don’t think you can work for me,
chica
.”

Then it was settled. I was destined to pick up rat dung on level two for the rest of my miserable life in Purgatory. All because my creditor was some sort of sadistic jerk. Hammerhead and Inés couldn’t help me, and I had no other friends in Purgatory, besides Grim.

Then a memory struck me. Grim’s promise that my afterlife would be better than the one I’d left behind. Could he have been my credit donor? I sunk into Inés’s velvet sofa as she sat beside me, handing me a cup of coffee.

She flashed a sympathetic smile. “Looks like you could use the caffeine.”

“Thank you.” I sipped the steaming liquid and moaned. Even though her brownies made me shit my pants, she really did make a good cup of coffee. I thought more and more about Grim as I eyed Inés over the rim of my cup. She and Grim seemed to be pretty tight. If anyone had dirt on the guy, she would.

“My creditor said God didn’t assign me to thirteen.” I kept a steady gaze on her facial expression as I sipped my coffee. “He said I had a donor. Who do you think it could have been?”

“I don’t know,
chica
,” she mumbled as she turned her attention to her silver and plum nail polish.

I arched a brow. “It’s Grim, isn’t it?”

She gasped and smacked her thigh. “I told him you’d find out.”

A whirlwind of emotions swirled in my heart: gratitude to Grim for saving me from a miserable fate; anger, because now I was obligated to the jerk; and then there was that other emotion. Ever since that first explosive kiss on the night I died, I’d been carrying around this feeling for him locked away in the deepest recesses of my soul. A feeling that I’d dared not acknowledge until now. I was more than grateful to Grim, more than attracted to him, too. Maybe I liked him… a whole lot. Even though he was a first-class jerk, maybe one day I could even love the guy. And despite his rough edges, and our totally awkward encounters, I sensed he felt the same way.

“Why would he do that?” I asked, but it was more a rhetorical question.

“Because he’s a good guy, that’s why.” Inés voiced what I’d been thinking.

Still, the way everyone skimped and saved their credits around here, I couldn’t help but wonder if he had any regrets about giving them to me. “But doesn’t he need those credits to get into Heaven?”

She waved me off before taking a sip of coffee. “He ain’t going to Heaven.”

“Why not?”

“He’s a Thirteener.” She shrugged. “A permanent resident. He’s probably earned enough credits to get into the Penthouse three times over.”

That didn’t make a whole lot of sense. I’d never heard of Thirteeners, but I was intrigued. Had he done something to get kicked out of Heaven? But then how was he able to go there to retrieve me?

“Was he banned?” I asked.

She shook her head. “He doesn’t want to ascend.”

“Why not?” Okay, I knew the guy was strange, but now I realized he was certifiable crazy.

“Ask him,” she answered with a dismissive flick of the wrist.

“Oh, believe me.” I rolled my eyes. “I’ve got a whole lot of questions for him.”

“Go easy on him,” she said with a scowl. “You are one lucky girl that he’s mad about you.”

“Do you really think he likes me?” I leaned forward, eyeing her intently and feeling like a junior high girl who’d just discovered her secret crush had a crush on her, too.

“Honey.” She laughed as she set her coffee on the side table. “Isn’t it obvious? He’s been single for most of his hundred years up here, then you come along and BAM!” She clapped her hands together. “He’s asking me to help him pick out ties and flowers. There ain’t no guys like him in Purgatory. None. A man like that shows interest in you, you hold on with both hands and never let him go.” She grabbed a sofa pillow and squeezed it to her chest before shooting me an accusatory glare. “Just do me a favor and don’t break his heart like his bitch wife.”

Omigod! Grim was married? And double omigod! Single for most of his hundred years? Did that mean he’d had a girlfriend at some point? How the heck old was this guy, and by single, did she mean celibate? I mean, would his boy parts even work after that long? I sure didn’t want to try to take a ride on that pony only to find out he had no more get up and go. Totally selfish of me to think that, but if I was going to commit to someone, possibly for an eternity, I needed to know these things.

“What did she do?” I asked. Over a hundred years is a long time to quit playing the dating field, even by eternity standards.

“She was unfaithful to him,” Inés answered. “And the saint that he was, he died trying to save her life.”

“Omigod,” I breathed. Grim really was a saint. I mumbled a thanks to Inés for the coffee and set down my cup before making an excuse to leave.

“What are you gonna do?” she asked as I got to the door.

I clutched the handle as the realization hit me that I had no idea what I wanted to do. Honestly, I hadn’t gotten much further than the thought of kissing Grim senseless. “I don’t know yet. I need to talk to him.”

She stormed over, looking at me with a thunderous expression in her heavily painted eyes. “Just remember what I said. Don’t break his heart, or I’ll break out the baddest can of Puerto Rican whoop-ass you ever seen.” She grinned before grabbing a blow-dryer off the counter and chasing me out the door with it.

“Hey. Did you go see your creditor?”