Heaven Is Small by Emily Schultz Read Free Book Online Page B

It was early yet, 8:32 by the microwave clock. Georgianne and Gordon could talk freely here.
    “You ever start the day in a perfect mood?” he asked. “One thing happens and you’re thrown off?”
    Georgianne gave an exaggerated tight-lipped grin, cocked a finger on her free hand at her coffee mug.
    “Oh, I see.” He blushed. Chloe had once told Gordon that he was incredibly cute when he blushed. But given his height, and Georgianne’s, he was certain he looked like a squat stuffed apple.
    “Kidding, kid- ding.” She put on a fake fast-talking voice, slightly misty, semi-Southern. “Who was it? You want, I’ll take ’em to task. Say the word, Gord. I always carry a pearl-handled revolver in my purse.”
    Impossible, coming from a woman with hands wrapped around I Heart Mom , the hollow skin beneath her eyes pink as plucked chicken. Was he insane?
    “Thin Man. He’s a mean one. Mean as tomorrow.” Gordon looked to see if it would land.
    “Ugh, Titus,” Georgianne groaned, making a fairly unattractive sound in the back of her throat even as she smiled. “Be glad you aren’t a woman — he’s even worse.” She wrinkled her nose, gave Gordon a wink, and backed out of the kitchen, using her bum to open the two-way door before he could ask her what she’d brought for lunch.
    She had a kid, maybe a husband, and she was too farmwife in the looks department for Gordon. She’d given him a sandwich and a laugh, but nothing more. He chided himself for seeking an office romance so early in his new job. Whoopsy’s had done something to him, he told himself — buried him under a set of not-for-the-parlour games while Chloe had become more and more distant, rising behind him like an evening star.
    Jill Fast trucked into the kitchen and depressed the coffee lever and claimed the sugar bowl simultaneously, as if the Designs couldn’t be trusted with it. She called to Gordon cheerily, “Get your pay?” Stationed one cubicle over from Gordon, Jill was in her late twenties, with straight blond bangs and brown dog-eyes, but a tendency to bite. Given the generosity of her lower half, she wore her clothes a shade too snug. Gordon could always see her panty lines. She gave off the insecure air of the prom queen’s best friend.
    He shook his head.
    “Well, today’s the day!” she sang. “Is it your first?”
    Nod.
    “When you first start, they make you wait. Talk to Titus.”
    Gordon gritted his teeth against the rim of his cup, hid his scowl by tipping it into the heat of the brew. Millstone. “Bentley?”
    “Yeah, duh . . .” Jill’s sweetness ran out quickly. She released the sugar bowl and slithered out.
    The foyer had a wan light, a different fluorescence than the rest of Heaven.
    Titus Bentley had dry patches on his palms, flakes of loose skin around his knuckles, and nails like dried wallpaper paste. As he crab-walked his scruffy mitts through the S ’s, an indignant heat rose in Gordon’s cheeks. “Oh, that’s right,” Bentley drawled, as if he had just remembered. It was obvious that whatever he was about to reveal he had known before Gordon had even said “good morning.” “You’re not here yet.” Bentley huffed and shrugged, lurching his shoulders. “Still temp.”
    Gordon fixed him with his best blank glare.
    “All Heaven employees are on contract for their first two months.” Bentley peered from beneath his birdlike brow. Even when he dripped sympathy, he looked like he wanted to crack Gordon’s spine. “It was in your contract. Or didn’t you read it?”
    “When do I get paid?”
    Bentley made a stalling sound in the back of his throat, drawing out Gordon’s suffering as long as possible. “You can’t pick it up here . . .” Ta-ta-ta. “But you’re paid already . . .” Ta-ta-ta. “You’ll have to go over to . . .” Ta-ta-ta. “Job City.”
    “Well, where’s that?” Gordon felt himself becoming petulant. He hated having his time wasted — especially his lunch hour — by