Love in the Time of Zombies (2 page)

“Make
more
coffee, then.  Christ, it’s in your job description, right?”  He opened
the cash register, no doubt to reimburse himself the twenty dollars he planned
to spend on Tanna, the neighborhood’s most popular hooker.

Scotlyn
might’ve considered some strategic pilfering too, if there was anything at
Topless Golf worth taking.  Sadly, unless you shared Zeke’s interest in real
cheap dates, it was a pretty hopeless place for white-collar crime.  Well,
honestly, she wouldn’t have stolen,
anyway
.  Not only was she terrible
at theft, but that damn “nice girl” thing wouldn’t let rip off her boss.

Even
if he deserved it.

“Actually
no, making coffee is
not
in my job description.”  Her mouth tightened as
he shoved the bill he’d swiped into the pocket of his jeans.  “And FYI for tax
day:  I don’t think the IRS actually lets you hang out with prostitutes in your
Jacuzzi and then write it off as a ‘business expense.’”

“Hey,
it’s the
company
Jacuzzi and I’m only gonna consult with Tanna about
marketing strategies.”  Zeke arched a brow.  “The girl’s
got some
special skills that you could really learn from, by the way.  Very
accommodating lady, unlike
some
puritanical blonde killjoys, I was
misled into hiring.”

“How
did I mislead you?  I told you I didn’t do shorthand or accounting or anything
when you took over.  And I set up the computer system, so…”

“Like
I give a shit about your office skills.  Hell, I only got the damn computer to
watch porn.”  Zeke leaned across the counter, closer to her.  He smelled like
he’d just finished showering under an Alpine waterfall, the bastard.  “I
thought you’d be a lot more fun around here, Trix, that’s all.  For instance, I
don’t know how they did casual day, back when you were a stripper.  But here at
Topless Golf World, we are
fine
with some tasteful
nudity, if…”

“I
was a
showgirl
, not a stripper.  I’ve told you that a
thousand
times!”

And
honestly, she’d only been a showgirl in the technical sense.  Scotlyn had never
done any perfectly choreographed kick lines or anything even pseudo-glamorous.
The Coney Island Casino, where she’d worked, catered to families.  The whole
resort was themed as a boardwalk midway.  Mainly, she’d just posed for tourist
photos with hyper kids and sang Disney songs to her pintsized audience.  Her
career in showbiz had been kinda pathetic.

No. 
Not “kinda,” come to think of it.  Just plain old, straight up pathetic.

It
also hadn’t paid well.

Zeke’s
lavender eyes sparkled at her indignation.  He seemed constantly amused by the
image of Scotlyn in fishnets and sequins.  Now a days, she wore the vestiges of
her old weekend wardrobe to work.  All the lovely, stylish, designer clothes that
had briefly made her very happy… Until she got the bills.

He
looked over her vintage inspired blue and white sundress, with a wicked smile. 
“It’s a wonder you didn’t starve, in that line of work.  You don’t have a
natural inclination to seduce a guy, that’s for sure.”

Whenever
he started in on her former career, Scotlyn expected him to mention that she
didn’t
look
like a showgirl.  She wasn’t particular tall.  Or graceful. 
Or beautiful.  Scotlyn was
pretty
, in the
all-American-kindergarten-teacher sense of the word.  Ideally, a showgirl
should look more like a Barbie doll and less like the girl someone’s parents
invited over for a 4
^th
of July picnic, circa 1942.  The casino had
only hired her because she’d gone to high school with the HR person and called
in a favor.

Zeke
never bothered to belittle any of her physical shortcomings, though.  Instead,
he seemed fixated on her personality defects.  Usually, he started with her
tendency to be bossy and then moved onto her supposed good girly-ness.  He was
obsessed with the idea that she was some kind of Pollyanna.

Right
on schedule, he made a sad ‘tsk’ of a sound.  “And all the nagging probably
didn’t help much with the tips back at the casino, huh, Trixie?”

“For
the
two
thousandth time, I never went by ‘Trixie.’  My stage name was
always just ‘Scotlyn.’  And I don’t nag.”

He
kept talking like he hadn’t even heard her.  “Ya know, I shoulda fired you when
you refused to put on that same glittery costume here at
this
job.  It
showed insubordination.”

Scotlyn
snorted at that statement.  “Oh please.  You’d fire
yourself
, before you
fired me.”

No
matter what he threatened, Zeke wasn’t going to give her a pink slip.  For some
perverse reason, he enjoyed having Scotlyn around to torment.  Besides, she was
the only one who even
tried
to run Topless Golf World like an actual
business.  Without her to oversee it, the place would be closed within days. 
When she finally left it to flounder, it would be an act of mercy on the world.

Zeke
headed over to make his own coffee, apparently resigning himself to the fact that
she had no intention of getting it for him… Just like he did every day.  “I
can’t fire me.  I’m not sure I even work here.”

Scotlyn
arched a brow.  “I’m not sure, either.  Anyway, when I
do
escape this
dead end job, it’ll be because I’m
quitting.
  And, on that happy day, I
will abandon you here on skid row, utterly
lost
without me.”

Zeke’s
head snapped around.  “You’re leaving?”

Scotlyn’s
blinked.  She expected a typical, snarky retort, but Zeke looked strangely
intense.  “No.”  She regarded him in confusion.  “Not yet.  Soon, though.”

She’d
been telling him that for the months.  When he took over, Zeke had been pretty
clear on the fact he couldn’t stand anyone being around him for more than a
week at a time.  He probably really did want her gone, but she couldn’t afford
to leave yet, so too bad.

Zeke
watched Scotlyn silently, as if trying to get a mental ETA on her defection.

Through
some unfair twist of fate, Zeke also had the most beautiful eyes she’d ever
seen.  Endless pools of lavender, surrounded by thick lashes.  Every color of purple
and blue was somehow swirled together in his irises.  Scotlyn could’ve spent
hours counting all the subtle shades of indigo…

If
she wasn’t immune to Zeke’s dubious charms.

Which
–the occasional sex dream about him notwithstanding-- she totally was.  Really. 
But, she still couldn’t breathe properly until he glanced away from her.

“Fine. 
Whenever.”  He finished setting up the coffee pot and busied himself lighting a
cigarette.  “Before you eventually
do
go, you’re gonna have to train
Tanna, though.  She’s agreed to wear a naughty stewardess outfit as office
attire, so I promised her your job, after you leave.”

Scotlyn
made a face.  “And you promised
me
that you’d quit smoking.  You might
not care about your health, but I care about mine and I’m not breathing in your
fumes.  You’ll thank me when we don’t die of lung cancer in twenty years.”

“Keep
nagging and you’re gonna be dead a lot sooner than that.”  But, he dropped the
cigarette to the floor and crushed it out with his radioactive green flip-flop.

“You’re
going to ruin the linoleum!  Do you know how much that’ll cost to repair?”

He
rolled his incredible eyes towards the skylight as if
he
was the one
suffering.  “God, you’re annoying in the morning.”

“It’s
midnight
, Zeke, not morning.”

“Technically,
midnight
is
morning, Little Miss Know it All.”

Scotlyn
ignored that.  “If you would just set an alarm…”  She stopped herself and took
a deep breath, refocusing her energy.  “Actually, no.  It’s good that this
happened.  It’s a perfect segue.  I’ve been waiting for you to wake-up, because
we need to talk.”

“That
sounds ominous.  Shouldn’t we get to have sex, at least once, before we
break-up?”

Scotlyn
disregarded that.  “I’m not going to let you flush our business away, because
you’re not in the mood to be a grown-up.”  Her feelings towards Topless Golf
World were gallingly complex.  As much as she hated this place, she still felt
the need to try and make it better.  Actually, she felt the same way about Zeke. 
“Isn’t that why you kept me around me?  To help you run things?”

He
shrugged, his attention on his brewing coffee.  “Truthfully?  I kept you around
because any woman who shows up for work in a little plaid schoolgirl skirt
stays on the payroll.  That’s a point of pride at this organization.”

“That
skirt was a Dior, you pervert.  It was perfectly suitable for a professional
interview with a new boss.  And I’m trying to have a real conversation here.” 
Scotlyn pointed a finger at him.  “
Someone
has to have an intervention
with you about your business practices.  Have you even looked at the list of
money saving ideas I drew up for you?”

He
squinted.  “There was a list?”

“Yes! 
I gave it to you on Tuesday.”

The
squint got even squintier.  “I thought
today
was Tuesday.”

“Today’s
Friday!”  Friday the thirteenth, actually.  She’d become morbidly aware of all
unlucky omens.  “Now, pay attention, unless you want to wind up as a jobless
hobo.  You need to institute some changes to help Topless Golf succeed.  I know
what I’m talking about here.  I went to business school.”

“You
flunked out.”  He reminded her in a disgustingly chipper tone.

“I
dropped
out and that’s not the point.  You’re doing everything wrong! 
It’s like you don’t even care about your livelihood. 
Our
livelihood.”

He
glanced at her with a frown.  “Is that what you’re worried about?  Don’t.  I
have enough cash to cover your salary for the week.”

“Considering
what you pay me, I’m sure that’s true.”

“If
I give you a raise, will you promise to shut up and let me drink my coffee?”

Scotlyn
ignored that.  She never told Zeke how badly she needed money.  Her mountainous
debt embarrassed her, considering the fact that he seemed insanely well-off,
for a do nothing.  “It’s a miracle you’ve stayed solvent this long.”  She
continued.  “I’ve also made you a list of your major attitude problems, which
contribute to our loss of revenue, if you want to hear it.”

“Not
really.  Let’s talk about you quitting some more, instead.  It cheers me up.”

“You
need to take your job more seriously or this business will never go anywhere.”

He
gave a bark of laughter at that assessment.  “Trixie, wherever Topless Golf is
going… we’re already there.”  Zeke swept a hand around the shabby room.  “Bask
in the glory of our empire.”

Scotlyn
scowled.

Why
did she even bother trying to help him?

The
only thing Zeke took seriously was what brand of frozen pizza to buy.  (No
sodium, thick crust, extra pepperoni.  Not that she was paying attention.)  The
man was brilliant, but, as far as Scotlyn could tell, all he’d accomplished in
his thirty-some years of living was winning some poker games and memorizing the
Klingon dictionary.  If he put half the concentration into running his business
that he did into watching
Maury
every afternoon, maybe Topless Golf
World would have some actual customers.

The
worst part was Zeke seemed perfectly content squandering his potential.  Anyone
who interrupted his lifestyle of hedonistic excess got punched, snapped at, or
ridiculed.

Except
for Scotlyn.

She
was the only one who ever got in his face and survived with all her limbs
intact.  For some reason, Zeke tolerated her lectures and insults.  Oh he
snarked at her, but he really should have fired her long ago, given her
insubordinate attitude.  Honestly, she had no idea why he kept her around.  He
could’ve found another secretary who’d caused him a lot less trouble and who’d
probably sleep with him.  It didn’t make any sense, even by Zeke’s twisted
logic.

“Zeke….” 
Scotlyn trailed off in annoyance, when he started checking his phone for
updates on the newest
Star Wars
movie.  “You have no idea how frustrated
you make me.”

“
You’re
feeling frustrated?”  Zeke scoffed.  “Well, you
might
wanna consider
getting a sex life, then.”  He frowned down at the phone, gave it a
“why-is-this-thing-not-working?” sort of shake and then gave up, shoving it
back into his pocket.  “You
are
still flyin’ solo in the bedroom,
right?”  Her lack of a boyfriend was his other favorite subject.

She
scowled.  “I could sue you for sexual harassment, just for asking that
question.  If you
had
anything worth suing for, I probably would.”

“Yep. 
That’s what I thought.  You’re still, not gettin’ any.”  He sounded unbearably
pleased about that.  “Come on, Trix. Fess up.  What kinda man are you waiting
for?  Like a doctor, right?  Nice girls
love
themselves some doctors. 
Anything that takes lots of studying turns them on like that
Thunder from
Down Under
show.”