Chapter One
Cassidy
Have you ever had a day where it feels like you’re holding a stick and everyone around you looks like a piñata? That pretty much describes my attitude today. After two years of working at the Crunchy Time Cookie Factory, I’ve been let go. Well, the word they used was terminated, but it boils down to the same.
Fired.
Canned.
Tossed out on my narrow ass.
I didn’t do anything wrong and it’s not just me. They’re moving the whole operation out of the country so a good portion of our small, southern Indiana town is now unemployed. Which means finding a new job will be even harder since I’m competing with about four hundred other newly unemployed former coworkers.
Fantastic.
I have a small amount of savings to see me through the next two months at most, but at the moment I’m relieved I was able to save that much.
My car chugs and wheezes into the parking spot in front of my apartment. It takes a few seconds for the engine to stop when I turn it off, and I shake my head. Yeah, my car runs so well it doesn’t want to stop. Unfortunately, it doesn’t want to stop at lights or stop signs either, but that’s another problem.
Two of my neighbors sit outside in lawn chairs, and they give me a wave as I walk by. “I heard about the factory. They’re bastards,” Samantha calls.
Samantha has lived beside me since I moved in. She’s about ten years older than me and we get along well. She’s nice, but she gets a lot of crap from others—mainly women—because she…how can I put this? She has a very popular vagina. Seriously, if penises had wings, her crotch would be an airport. I’m not a fan of slut shaming. If men can sleep around, I don’t see why women can’t. Besides, it’s not anyone’s business anyway.
“Thanks. I guess I’ll be job hunting on Monday.”
“Check out the old dollar store building. They have a now hiring sign up,” Neal says.
Neal lives across the street with his ten-year-old daughter. He’s the only single father in our shitty little neighborhood and it’s hilarious to watch the women go after him. So far, he hasn’t shown any interest in anyone.
I pause to ask, “What kind of business is opening up there?”
“No idea. They have the windows blacked out. The sign says open interviews tomorrow, though.”
“Thanks, I’ll check it out.”
“Don’t forget about the bonfire tomorrow night!” Samantha calls as I head inside.
“I’ll be there.”
I’ve lived here in Orchid Apartments on Violet Circle for a few years. It’s far from a typical neighborhood. More like an insane asylum poured out into the street. Someone has written an N on the street sign in between the e and t, so it reads Violent Circle, which isn’t altogether false. We have our share of violence, as most poor neighborhoods do, but it’s not like drive-by shootings or anything. These are the cheapest apartments in town and are also subsidized by the government, so those who don’t have a job or who live on disability stay for next to nothing.
It’s not a terrible place to live once you get used to it. The people are eccentric at best and petty criminals at worst, but we’re all in the same boat and generally have one another’s back. I’ve heard the talk through town. They call it the slums, but what the hell do well off people know about struggling? I’ll take honest flaws over fake smiles any day.
I’m met by a wall of heat when I let myself in my little one bedroom apartment. I’ve put off turning on the air conditioning to save money and I need to do that now more than ever so I open the windows and crank up the fan instead.
Stripping off my clothes as I make my way to the bathroom, I turn the shower on and step under the cool spray, washing away the sweat of the day. At least I won’t be spending the day around ovens anymore or end up covered in sugar. Who knows what I’ll be doing next though? There are only two factories in town, a supercenter, a few gas stations, and a few fast food restaurants. Fast food is my last choice—the pimples alone aren’t worth it—but it may come to that.
Chances are it’s some kind of restaurant opening up in the old dollar store building too. I can’t count how many have tried to open little family run ice cream parlors, diners, and bakeries here only to have them close down again after a few months. I need something I can count on. Maybe the new liquor store? Our county only went wet this year so the place is pretty new. They may have an opening.
When I’m clean and cooled off, I hop out, wrap a towel around myself and head to my bedroom. Perk number one about living alone; you can walk around naked any time the mood strikes you. It almost makes the chances of slipping in the tub, cracking your head and being found naked, dead, and alone worth it. I’ve lived with roommates in the past. I’ll take the chance of posthumously mooning a maintenance man.
It’s still hot as hell in my place so I throw my hair up in a ponytail, dress in some cotton shorts and a tee, and sit out on my step. The air is beginning to cool down and the delicious smell of meat being grilled makes my mouth water. I should go make something to eat, but I’m exhausted, not just from work, but from the stress of being fired.
A patrol car rolls through like they do every night and the cop waves at me. They pretty much know everyone and are aware of the troublemakers. Unless you’re hurting someone or stealing, they don’t pay any attention. Which is why I don’t hesitate to pull a joint from my pocket and spark up.
I don’t smoke weed often; usually once or twice per week at most, but tonight I need something to calm my nerves and distract me. There are some serious potheads living here, people who probably piss green, and the smell of weed will most likely attract them like a line of ants, but I don’t mind sharing.
As if they heard my thoughts, the neighbors who live next to Samantha—two doors down from me—pop around the corner. Dennis and his wife, Mallory, approach and Mallory takes a seat beside me on the step. When I talked about bleeding green? Yeah, these two are who I had in mind. I’ve known some smokers, but these two take the cake—or the brownie.
“I heard about Crunchy Time. Sorry you lost your job,” Dennis says.
“Thanks,” I reply, taking a puff and passing it to him.
“Any idea what you’re going to do?”
“Not really. I’ve only known for a few hours, though.”
“Well, let us know if you need anything,” Mallory says.
“Thanks, I appreciate it. Just let me know if you get an opening at Rock Plastics.” I know it’s useless. It’s one of the easiest jobs in town and the turnover is almost zilch.
“Will do,” Dennis agrees.
We sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes, finishing off the joint. I watch the smoke swirl up in the evening air, taking some of my stress with it.
“Shit. I’m gonna burn the burgers!” Dennis announces, and Mallory and I burst into giggles at the sight of him trying to run his chubby ass around the corner.
“Would you like to eat with us tonight? We have plenty. It’s just hot dogs and hamburgers, but…” She shrugs.
See what I mean? There are people who avoid this place like the plague, but most of us are decent, caring people.
“I’d love to, thanks. Give me just a sec, yeah?”
“Come on over when you’re ready.” Mallory gets to her feet and disappears around the corner of the building.
I was raised never to go to someone’s house for dinner without bringing something. I don’t have a lot to choose from, but I grab a couple bags of chips and three cans of Coke. Between that and the weed, I don’t feel like a mooch.
We eat at the little plastic table in their backyard while they fill me in on the high jinx I missed in the neighborhood today.
“Mantrum was at it again,” Mallory says, and I smile around a bite of hot dog. Grilled hot dogs are absolutely amazing when you’re stoned.
“Yeah? Cops get called?” Mantrum is the nickname someone came up with for the man who lives across the street. He’s in his thirties, but throws tantrums like a child, stomping around, throwing things, and slamming doors. Man tantrums. I can’t count the times the cops have been called, but they never take him, just warn him to get back inside and quit being disruptive.
“Not this time. His girlfriend drug him back inside.”
“He’s eventually going to get locked up if he isn’t careful. Cops will get sick of being called to their address.”
“I know. More than one of us has tried to reason with him. No one wants to see him get evicted when they have all those kids.”
Yeah, four kids under six years old. Five if you count Mantrum.
“Never a dull moment,” I reply, shaking my head. “You coming out for the bonfire tomorrow night?”
“Most likely. I get off work at five.” Mallory works at the local nursing home as an aide.
I polish off my hot dog and get to my feet. “I’ll see you there then. Thanks for dinner.”
“Anytime.”
I wouldn’t usually go to bed so early on a Friday night, but I’m worn out and I want to be up early to job hunt in the morning. A lot of my former coworkers will probably wait until Monday to start looking, so maybe I can beat them to something. I guess the old dollar store building will be my first stop.
The sounds of the neighborhood filter through my open window as I try to doze off. Mallory and Dennis are discussing something, their voices climbing. It’s likely to turn into a full scale argument since they generally have a screaming match once a week or so. Samantha is talking on her cell, her occasional laughter flowing into the night.
At least the neighbor right next to me, the only one I share walls with, isn’t home. He likes to sing gospel music late into the night sometimes.
The clang and bang of the nearby train yard continues as usual, along with the occasional dog barking. When I first moved here, the noise drove me crazy, but now it’s become normal and just lulls me to sleep.
The last thing I hear before I fall asleep is Mallory shriek, “Like I give a shit, you limp dick motherfucker!”
Ahh. The sounds of home.
* * * *
The patter of rain against the roof wakes me, and I reach over to close the window before the floor gets soaked. A rumble of thunder tells me it probably isn’t going to stop anytime soon so I rush to close the rest of the windows.
A giggle escapes me when I see a pile of clothes in the yard in front of Mallory’s. They must’ve really went at it after I left last night if she tossed Dennis’s clothes out again. Sometimes, I’m really glad to be single. All I have to do is look around me and be reminded that relationships suck. I’d much rather watch the drama play out than be a part of it.
The rain lets up a little by the time I leave, but there’s a small river of muddy water streaming down the street to the sewer drain. Some of the neighbor kids are splashing in it and I have to slow down to drive around them. Damn, what I’d do to have those carefree days back.
As Dennis said, a sign advertising open interviews hangs on the door of the old dollar store, with directions to come to the back door. It is a little strange to see the front window blacked out, but I don’t hesitate to head around back.
The door is open and a small table has been set up with a few chairs, all empty except for one.
My jaw nearly hits the floor at the sight of the man who gets to his feet to greet me. He towers over me, easily six foot five, and his broad shoulders and chest flex beneath his suit, clearly outlining muscles that must take endless work at the gym.
Bright, copper colored eyes meet mine and he smiles, extending his hand. “Good morning. I’m Wyatt Lawson.”
I’m frozen in place, taking in the glorious piece of man meat standing in front of me. I guess karma decided to cut me a break. Losing my job at the factory was totally worth being in this man’s presence. His lips press together and one of his eyebrows begins to journey up his forehead. “And you are?”
Why is he looking at me like that? Does he think I’m attractive? Is he imagining throwing me down and ripping my clothes off? Because that’s all I can picture. Clawing his back while he grabs my ass…
Oh, he asked me a question, didn’t he? “Ass!” I blurt, and feel my cheeks fill with fire. “Cass,” I correct. “My name is Cassidy West.”
Please let a sinkhole open under me, or a tornado show up to suck me out of a window. Anything to get me out of this room right now.
Amusement is stamped on his face, his gorgeous, stubbly face, as he gestures toward the chair across from him. “Nice to meet you, Cassidy. Please, have a seat and tell me about yourself.”
Trying to resist the urge to give him the real information I want him to have about me, like how I’m on birth control and can give one hell of a blow job, I take a seat and proceed to stammer like a nervous teenager talking to a crush.
“Okay, um, I’m 21 years old. I have a high school diploma and I’ve worked the past two years at the Crunchy Time cookie factory. Before that, I was a cashier at the supercenter for almost three years. Um, no criminal record and I’m not crazy or slow, regardless of how I might appear at the moment,” I babble.
His smile morphs into a laugh as he sits back in his seat and crosses his legs, resting his ankle on his knee.
“That’s good to know.”
“Sorry, I guess I’m nervous.” Maybe because I didn’t expect to be interviewed by a fitness model.
“No need to be nervous. Why did you leave your last job?”
“They laid me off along with about four hundred other people. You’re probably going to be drowning in applicants.”
Getting to his feet, he grins down at me. “We should move this along then. I’m sure you’re curious what position you’re interviewing for.”
Missionary, doggy, whatever, I’m down.
“Yes, of course.”
“Follow me.”
He leads me through the stockroom and out onto the sales floor where boxes are scattered from hell to noon. “I’m looking for a full time manager, though I’ll also be hiring a few hourly employees as well.”
He opens a box, and my mouth falls open when he holds up the contents. A giant purple dildo, packaged in a thick plastic case.
“Um, if that’s part of the interview, I might be in the wrong place.” The whole thing makes me feel like I’m on one of those stupid hidden camera shows. He’s setting up a sex toy store? In this little backward town that couldn’t even sell alcohol until recently? No way.
“This is what you’ll be selling. Sex toys for men and women, lingerie, party supplies, X-rated DVDs, and so on. It obviously isn’t a job for everyone so if you aren’t interested, please let me know now.”
It may be my imagination, but I sense a flicker of disappointment when I don’t answer him straight away. He returns the dildo to the box and eyes me.
“Do you have a moral compunction against these types of goods?”
My fingers creep up to tug on my earlobe, a nervous habit I’ve been trying and failing to break since childhood. If he saw the array of do-it-yourself devices in my nightstand drawer, he wouldn’t ask that question. Now I’m picturing him in my bedroom. Keep it together, Cass.
“No, it’s not that, it’s just…I’m not sure how long a business like this will survive in Morganville.”
A smile brightens his face, showing a mouth full of white teeth. He has one crooked tooth on the bottom which somehow makes him even more endearing. “You’ll be surprised.”
“The churches picketed our little theater when it showed Fifty Shades of Grey.”
“Did you go to see the movie?”
“Yes.”
“Were there many others there?”
“It sold out all three screens…at a midnight showing.”
He crosses his arms and smirks. “See? Sex sells. People may protest, but they’ll be some of the same ones who will sneak in the back door after the sun goes down. I warn you, I will require long days from you in the beginning. It takes a lot to set up a new business. I’d like to get the store organized and stocked so we can open in the next two weeks.”
I still don’t think it’ll last, but I need a job. Even if this place goes under in a few months, it’ll hold me over until I can find something else.
“Are you offering me the job, Mr. Lawson?”
His lips jump into a grin again. “Do you think you can learn to call me Wyatt?”
“I’ll do my best.”
“Then yes, I’m offering you the job. Why don’t we return to the back and we’ll discuss salary and benefits.”
“Are you going to keep the front windows blacked out?” I ask, curious.
“Yes, but not with the paper. We’ll hang black and red curtains. In bigger cities, we’d have a display window set up, but in these smaller towns, more people will shop if they can’t be seen from the outside. After all, if they’re discovered by someone they know while shopping, that person must be here for the same reason and can’t judge.”
The rear door opens and an older gentleman walks in. I recognize him from the maintenance department of Crunchy Time. He’s going to flip his shit when he realizes what the job is. I feel bad, though. It reminds me I’m not the only one out of work and struggling.
“Good afternoon, Sir,” Wyatt calls to him. “If you’ll have a seat, I’ll speak to you when I’m finished with this young lady.”
Wyatt leads me to a tiny back office where he gives me the details of the position. He gestures to a chair and sits in the one next to it, so close his leg keeps brushing mine. My eyes widen and my heart rate increases when he tells me the salary, and not just because he’s sitting so close.
It’s not going to make me rich, but it’s considerably more than I made in the factory, more than any of the factories in town, as a matter of fact. If this lasts, I’ll be able to get a decent car, maybe even move to a better apartment eventually.
“Like I said, this is a salaried managerial position. It will require long hours until we’re up and operational, then you’ll work the typical forty hours per week. If you do well enough in training, you’ll be the general manager and be responsible for making the schedules for the hourly employees, so you’ll eventually be able to set your own hours.”
This job is just too good to be true. “Training?” I ask.
“I’ll be training you over the next few weeks. I know you said you’ve never held a managerial position before, but I’m sure you’ll do fine. Do you have any questions for me?”
Can we start my training today? Maybe by showing me the proper way to bend over a desk?
“When do I start?”
“Be here tomorrow at noon. We’ll start organizing the store. I’m looking for two more salespeople if you know someone trustworthy. They have to be able to pass a criminal background check.”
My thoughts go to Jani, one of my friends from Crunchy Time who also just moved into Orchid Apartments. She takes care of her mother and needs a job. I know she wouldn’t balk at selling sex toys.
“Actually, I do know someone. She worked at the factory with me. Her name is January. I could call her.”
Standing up, he says, “Great. Tell her to come in today if she can and I’ll interview her.”
His hand swallows mine in a handshake and a shiver races across my skin as his fingers slide across my palm when our hands part. “Welcome to the team, Ms. West. I’ll see you at noon tomorrow.”
“I’ll be here. And please, call me Cass.”
“Cass,” he agrees with a smile. Damn, what his voice does to my name. Not to mention my lady parts.
We walk back to the rear storeroom where the older man waits. Before I leave, I give him a smile. “Orchid Apartments is looking for another maintenance man. One of ours retired last week. In case this isn’t what you’re looking for.”
“Thank you,” he tells me, and I give him a nod before stepping out the door into the pouring rain.
Jani is going to be so excited when I tell her I’ve found her a job less than twenty-four hours after we were let go. Running to my car, I jump in and text her.
Me: Big news. May have found us both a job. Can you meet me at Carl’s?
My phone beeps almost instantly.
Jani: Now?
Me: Yep
Jani: On my way.
Carl’s Diner is nearly empty when I arrive since it’s between the breakfast and lunch rush. Jani waves at me from the back booth.
“Wow, you must’ve put that pedal down to beat me here,” I observe, sliding into the booth.
“My mother is driving me batshit. I can’t watch one more minute of reality TV. Now, what’s the job you were talking about?”
The waitress approaches and takes our order, so I wait until she walks away to ask, “So, how do you feel about vibrators?”
Jani nearly spits out her drink. “Well, I guess I’d have to say I’m pro vibe. Is this one of those deals where you throw sex toy parties at home? Because I’m not going to be able to spend money to get started.”
“No, but you would be selling sex toys. The old dollar store is going to re-open as an adult store.”
“Get the hell out of here!” She sits back in her seat. “It won’t last no time. These self-righteous bitches wouldn’t know a dildo if it slapped them in the face.”
I try to swallow a laugh when I see our waitress, a lady who looks at least sixty, standing behind Jani. “Honey, if you’re getting slapped in the face with it, you ain’t using it right,” she says, placing our food on the table.
“Sorry,” Jani mumbles, mortified.
“Don’t be. Just tell me about this store. Are you talking about the building across from the feed store?”
“That’s the one.”
“Well, don’t that beat all? Be nice not to have to mail order. Are they hiring?”
“They’re still looking for a couple of sales people, last I heard. He’s holding open interviews until four today.”
“Perfect. I get off at two.”
Jani and I burst into giggles when she walks away. “I put in a good word for you. Wyatt is expecting you today. Just know I call dibs on this one.”
“You’re calling him by his first name. Did you blow him to get the job?”
“No!” I throw my napkin at her.
“But you would have,” she teases.
“For free.”
“Seriously? That hot?”
“Just wait until you see him.”
Jani and I finish lunch, and she promises to call me to let me know how the interview goes.
The rain has slowed to a drizzle when I park in front of my apartment. The clothes are gone from the front yard, at least. I’m unlocking my door when I’m struck on the head by an acorn.
“Keep it up, you fuzzy little bastard and I’ll turn you into a hat!” I yell up at the branches above my head. I’m actually shouting at the psycho squirrel hiding in the branches. I swear it’s a sadist. No matter where you stand under the tree, it throws nuts down at your head.
“Cass, you all right?” Jason asks, stepping around the corner. Jason is one of our three maintenance men. Well, two now that Bob retired. Both of them are about as sharp as a mashed potato. Of course, I’m cursing at a squirrel, so who am I to judge?
“Fine, Jason, thanks.”
“Yup.” He walks away, sloshing through the mud and water as if it isn’t there.
I’m so relieved to have found a job, even if it may not last long. I decide to spend the rest of the day catching up on my reading and television since the little neighborhood bonfire has been postponed because of the rain. After all, I have a long day of organizing butt plugs ahead of me tomorrow.