AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“It’s a museum,” he explains, unprompted. “It’s quiet, warm, and it’s a great place to walk and talk.”
I don’t see why we need to be here in the first place. I’m more than happy to get back to the candy shop to get down to business and finish my work.
“Are there any damned souls in here?” I ask as we ascend the stone steps towards the entrance.
He snorts. “Uh, probably not? A museum is usually fairly tame by those standards. But you never know.”
The museum is, as Byron promised, quiet. So quiet it could pass as a crypt, save for the tinkling of dishes being moved around in the café we pass. The scintillating scent of coffee beans being roasted has me sniffing the air, and Byron chuckles when he notices I’m drifting towards the café.
Without saying anything, he steps up to the counter, orders a small coffee, and hands it to me. I’m actually starting to get annoyed by how nice of a guy he’s turning out to be. I mean, at first everything started off as transactional. An “I’ll help you if you help me” sort of situation. But the more time I spend with him, just acting like two normal people, the more I find myself enjoying myself and… and not wanting to go back to Hell.
Penthouse, Faith. The very thing you have always wanted. Eyes on the prize.But it feels like the goal posts are moving, and I’m powerless to stop it.
“You really shouldn't have,” I say, feigning reluctance as I accept the cup from him. I love coffee without cream and sugar. Reminds me of a drink I love back home with similar acidic qualities. Only the Earth-based drink doesn’t smell like brimstone, which is a vast improvement.
“I know, but you looked like you wanted one.” He rubs the back of his neck and smirks. “Come on, there’s an exhibit here I’ve been meaning to check out.”
So, we stroll. We meander past paintings and sculptures made by artists whose names I don’t recognize because I never took care to learn anything about Earth outside of what was necessary to get my jobs done. We stop in front of a painting of a meadow. It’s pretty, but also pretty damn boring. A half hour of gawking at art has passed when I realize that this is feeling like a date. A real date between two people for the sole purpose of getting to know one another.
“So, what’s life like back home? Do you, uh… enjoy living in Hell?” he asks, peering down at me from his own drink.
I look down at my feet, then worry my lip when I think about his question. “That’s irrelevant.”
“What? Why?” he asks, then takes another sip of his coffee as he feigns interest in the painting. “It’s where you live, right? So, why would that be irrelevant?”
I look up at him and shake my head.Resist, Faith, resist. Just because he’s the first man to ever submit to you doesn’t mean he’s your one true love or anything. It doesn’t make him any more than a mark. Time to lie out of your ass if you need to.
“Because we’re not friends, Byron. We’re not supposed to be here, doing any of this. I made a grave mistake in picking you, and now I’m wasting time when I should be out there gleaning damned souls. Instead, we’re in…” I gesture broadly. “Here.”
He winces like I’ve just struck him. I might as well have with the way he takes a step back and averts his gaze to another painting on the other side of the room. “Right. You’re right. I’m sorry. We shouldn’t be doing this. You have a job to do, and I’m keeping you from it,” he murmurs. “Come on. I’ll take you to my office to find you something better.”
I never said I wanted something better. Just something that would land me a promotion. Byron is, unfortunately, too good for someone like me. Deep down, he isn’t a terrible person. He might react poorly to everything and everyone because of his trauma, but he’s only human, after all. Given enough time—and a significant amount of therapy—I’m certain he would work it all out. Maybe even finally heal long enough to get married or something, if that’s what he wanted.
Byron leads me out of the museum, our coffees still warm, and we take a quick bus over to Fletcher & Sons. The street isn’t very busy, but then again, it’s noon on a Wednesday. Most people are at work. My shop still has the “be back in five!” signhanging on the door that I forgot to swap for “closed.” Not like it matters, anyway. It’s not a real business. My heart clenches at the thought.
We step inside, then proceed past security and get into the elevator with a few other men in suits. They all stare at my cleavage, of course. No one aside from Byron looks at my face. When we reach the top floor, he lets me step out first and then escorts me down the hallway. A few of his colleagues, all men, nod and say hello as they pass him.
“And in here is where I work,” he says as he pushes open the door to his office. It’s a clean but boring room with white walls, gray carpeting, and a desk in front of an enormous window that overlooks the river. It’s a gorgeous view, but it’s so… sterile. So unlike him. The Byron I know should have some wooden furniture, some art, heck, even some tchotchkes at the very least. “When I actually do bother coming in to the office, that is. Most of the time, I just get stuff done at home on my laptop.”
I nod as I walk around the room, trailing my fingers across the desk. Now I’m wondering what his apartment looks like. How many women he’s brought back there. How many have slept in his bed. It’s enough to make me tense up, my blood roiling in my veins. Thinking about him with another woman is enough to make me gnash my teeth.
“It’s nice,” I lie through a bitter smile.
Byron shoots me a knowing grin and says, “C’mon. It’s awful. The view is the only good thing about it.”
“I wasn’t going to say anything,” I say, smiling back at him. “But it doesn’t really suit you.”
“And what would suit me, then?” he says as he steps toward me, closing the gap between us. The gap I purposely put there to keep him from trying to seduce me with his pretty words, his soft caresses, and his tender kisses that leave me breathless. I can’t do this with him. Not when I’m so close to finally getting whatI’ve always wanted. Not when I only have a day left before I’ll be summoned back down to Hell for my final performance review. I have to make it count.
“Byron…” I say, putting my hands up. “We need to focus.”
He nods, then turns back towards the door. “Right. Come on, I can at least take you down the hall and introduce you to some folks I have suspicions about.”
We meander down the hallway slowly, lingering in doorways while Byron pretends to make small talk with his co-workers so I can peer into their souls. Most of the men who work here aren’t the nicest bunch of people, but they’re hardly the scum of society that I was told to expect. I was promised truly vile creatures in a corporation such as this, and so far, all I’ve got is a guy cheating on his wife with the nanny. It’s bad, but not nearly enough.
When we get to the last doorway in the hall, Byron pauses to brush my forearm with his fingers and asks, “Anything yet?”
I shake my head. “No. They’re all your garden variety morally gray or wounded, like you.”
