I was worried about what the ghosts might say, sure. Every now and then, I’d hear a shrill ‘woooooo’ noise from Blair, one that made me really regret leveling her up first. At first, it took a lot of willpower and focus to keep my attention on Tina the Taxi.
That was her name. Tina. The taxi part I added on, but I kinda like the sound of it. Her name was the first thing I’d learned in a long luggage line of personal baggage that she was currently dumping on me. I should probably be asking about her driving skills, cause I really hadn’t learned much about that. Could she keep her head in a high speed car chase? Did she know how to drive anything other than, like, a regular car? Could she even parallel park?
But instead I was being treated to a wall of drama about her exes and siblings and that bitch Anne Marie that stole Tony away from her. And I gotta say, I was loving it.
“Okay okay, go back,” I said, motioning my hand in a rewind motion. “So you’re saying Cathy had a real ass physical picture of Anne Marie kissing Tony?”
Tina rolled her red rimmed eyes. “Yes. Anne fucking Marie didn’t even had the nerve to get him upstairs first.”
I nodded. “Did you know for sure that picture was, like, real? Not photoshopped?”
“This was the 90s, hun.”
I blinked
“The picture was a polaroid.”
Right. This had been college drama. “Oh, yeah, duh, I knew that.” I winced. A lie. I’d been trying so hard to avoid them. “Okay, so to recap.” Deep breath, no lie. “Did you say that your high school boyfriend left you for your sister, your college boyfriend left you for your roommate, your post college boyfriend left you for an interstate trucker with ‘crazy eyes’ while at a rest stop on a road trip to his family’s Christmas celebration, your first real serious boyfriend was a garage band bassonist who left you for a model the moment his band made it big, your early 30s boyfriend was already married to four women, then you wasted six months on a guy who got arrested for some mafia thing and ended up in jail and then married a guard he met in there, the next guy you hooked up with was an FBI informat who vanished, your mid 30s fiance faked his death and moved to Brazil probably, the next guy was an FBI agent using you to track down the old fling, the last guy you dated in your 30s joined a cult and moved to New Jersey when you refused to join, then there was a decent break before spending five years on a guy that swore he could make it big playing video games, somehow did, and then ditched you because he was upset you never believed in him?” I tried to have the end of my sentence lift so it was more like a question. I wanted to make sure I had this straight and wasn’t hoodwinking her into agreeing with me.
Tina nodded, sniffing and wiping a tear away from her face. “All I did was point out the statistical unlikeliness of someone in their 40s going pro in any video game. Which are literally none. I wasn’t even trying to shit on his dreams. Didn’t want a repeat of Gerold.”
“Was that the bassoonist?”
She nodded.
I nodded. “Sheesh. Have you, like, ever considered being a lesbian? Guys don’t seem to work out for you.”
Tina sniffed again. “I had a thing in college before Tony. With a girl named Jenna? She said I made her straight.”
“Oof.”
Now was the time for my mental mortal dilemma. Did Tina deserve a life of relative peace and normalcy after so many decades of being jerked around by increasingly weird people? Or was Tina exactly the kind of person who’d seen enough bizarreness that she could handle chauffeuring a God around without too much panic. (Speaking of panic, I swore I could hear Cara hyperventilating one room over. I tried to put that out of my mind.)
“So,” I said, slowly. “These are the terms of service. You would basically live here. I know it’s barebones, we’re gonna furnish it with cool shit, promise. Your main job is being on call whenever I need a ride somewhere, and then keeping the car running and nearby, for whenever I need, you know, an excursion.”
Tina pursed her lips, eyes darting side to side at this.
“I know I know, I made that sound like it’ll all be criminal shit. But it’s not. Or it’s not that bad. It’s…” I couldn’t lie to her and pretend like everything I was doing was gonna be legal. “I am not planning on hurting anyone and neither are any of the people I work with. Anything at all criminal is gonna be, like, petty mischief stuff.” That was true enough, right? Technically breaking a suspected murderer out of jail (and I suppose being one myself) pushed the boundaries of ‘mischief’ but I knew neither of us shot Noah, so we were back to square one.
Maybe. Honestly, I’m not sure there was a square one here.
“For money, I’ll give you ten thousand dollars a month, like I said. That doesn’t include the housing, which is free. And, like, I dunno, food or whatever.” How was I gonna handle getting food? Or ten thousand dollars? Well the second part wasn’t as urgent cause it was the third of the month. I had plenty of time to make the money appear.
Tina shifted a bit on the polished wood floor, where we were sitting given we had no chairs. For a moment, I thought she was still anxious about the crime thing. “So this… payment,” she said. “Is that, like, taxed and everything? What about… I’m sorry, I sound really damn picky here but are there benefits with that?”
“Like days off and stuff?” I squinted, thinking about the last time I started a job. “Oh, like doctor shit. Yeah, that’s all free.” I could figure that out too. Right now I just wanted to make this as appealing as possible. I liked Tina. I wanted to give her a big break, and she seemed like she could handle me, at least better than Cara could.
“Shit really?” Tina’s eyebrows pinched. “Well, I mean, hell that’s as good a deal as I’ve ever heard. If I said I’m interested, how long until I hear back?”
I fought the urge to straight up tell her she was hired. “Uh, are you saying you’re interested? Like if I offered you the job right now you would–or, rather, would you accept?”
For a moment, Tina contemplated it. I could tell what she was thinking, cause it was the same thing I’d sorta been thinking. It was the same thing Cara was probably thinking.
Do I really want to give up my shitty life of mundanity for this madness?
“Yeah. Yeah I’m interested. I’m actually totally down. Just…” Her voice trailed off.
I waited. I could hear Cara crying in the room over, and a drop of sweat rolled down my neck. After this, I’d have to ask her to tell me everything the ghosts told her. Then maybe consider filling Tina in. Maybe not yet.
“Look, I don’t know what you’ve got going on here. Criminal mischief doesn’t bother me. I stuck it out with Gino after all.” She ran a hand through her hair, a messy feat given it was tied back in a ratty braid. “Just don’t ditch me without giving me a good reason. Employment’s not forever, I get that, but don’t leave me holding the bag.”
“Pft.” I waved this off with a laugh. If I wasn’t gonna leave Cara, a girl I did not agree to take on, holding the bag, no way was I gonna shaft my pseudo-legally employed driver. “I would never. Promise. I work in mysterious ways. Trust me, you’ll come out on top.”
Easy enough promise to keep, right?
Tina nodded, once contemplatively and then again decisively. “All right then. Screw it, I guess, right? What do I have to lose?” She held out a hand, which I shook with one of my trademark weak-ass Sammi handshakes. For some reason my hand just always felt limp and sweaty as soon as it made contact with someone else’s. I probably just thought about it too much. Like, there are all these things that are supposed to go into a handshake. Confidence but not cockiness, firm but not tight, one good strong motion, not just yanking the other person’s hand off.
But no one had ever told this to anyone I’d ever shaken a hand with, cause every time my poor hand was just crushed and jerked up and down until it had been beaten into submission.
Tina didn’t do that but she did squeeze more than I was comfortable with. My hand needed more of a spine.
I was in the middle of contemplating which bone in my hand would be considered the spine when the door to the bedroom creaked open, and a defeated Cara crept out.
“Hi.” I waved my free hand at her. “Have a good sesh?”
She whimpered.
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“Yeah.” I gave her a sympathetic pat. “Welcome to my life.”
“I don’t know how you’ve done it,” she said, looking at me with an odd, shimmery eyed look. “I’d have had a total meltdown.”
“Kinda feels like I did,” I said.
“Maybe, but look at you now. I’d be crying in a prison cell, and you’re just taking it in stride.”
We maintained eye contact for a moment, me squinting at her, her staring up at me, that wide eyed look still piercing my soul.
Then it clicked.
She was impressed. Whatever the ghosts had told her, she’d interpreted it as… heroic? Not clear, but I could tell that somehow, she’d walked out of that room thinking I was somehow cool.
My chest puffed up at this. “Well, I mean.” I shrugged casually with one shoulder. “Not everyone’s got what it takes to be a–” I cut off, remembering Tina was still in the room. “To make it through what I’ve been through. But ya know, here we are. No big deal, I guess. I’m just made of sterner stuff.”
“Good lord.” The ghosts had also left the room, and Joni was not having any of my optimism. “You’re squatting in an empty penthouse, Sammi. You’re a wanted criminal, you’ve kidnapped a tech store worker and a pizza waitress, and you got a college kid shot. You and the tech store worker are on the run, the kid’s in a coma, and the actual shooter is God knows where. So wipe that smug smile off your face and get back to the task and hand.”
The smile stayed on my face cause my brain and face were once again on severely different wavelengths, but I did contemplate what she said.
“Which is?”
“The house,” Blair said. “Remember, we gotta steal it from the landlord?”
We did.
“Okay.” I looked at my two… minions? Followers? Probably just employees. “Tina, I need you to get my car. It’s… at the police station. Well it’s technically like, two blocks away. Uh, here.” I handed her my keys. “You can drive your car to the police station, then kinda cruise around the surrounding blocks until you find mine. It’s this blue sporty thing. Just beep the horn, you know. Then drive it back here, and, you know, text me. We’ll go from there.”
I felt bad about how awful this task sounded, but Tina just hopped to.
“Right away,” she said. “I’ll bring it back without a scratch.”
“You can just leave your car there,” I said. “It should be fine.”
She nodded again, and headed towards the elevator. We’d exchanged numbers during the interview, so this would be simple enough.
Once she’d gone, I turned back to Cara. “Okay. So Tina the Taxi doesn’t know about the ghosts or the whole God thing yet. I want to, ya know, get a chance for us to form a bit of a bond before I tell her. Kinda like I did with you.”
“That was a bond? I went to jail!” The admiration on Cara’s face had worn off by now, as she went from appreciating how much I’d gone through to resenting how much I’d put her through.
“Okay okay, touchy subject. But you know what I mean. If I’d jumped out at you on the bridge and been like ‘by the way, I’m a God’ before Henry even showed up, you never would have believed me.” She probably would have run the fuck away, though, which actually would have been an improvement on her current situation. “Moving on. We need to get the landlord’s contact info so I can make sure he gives us the month. Signs over whatever he needs to in the system so I’m not just coasting on one skeleton key and a few well placed lies.”
“Yeah, no shit,” Cara said. “I thought I was gonna be sick listening to you lie about the keys to the doorman.”
“Wait.” Christopher floated down behind Cara, inspecting the back of her head, as if an answer to his unasked question was gonna jump out from it. “So did she not believe the lies you told the guard?”
An excellent question. “Wait,” I said. “So did you believe the lies I told the guard?”
Cara opened her mouth and then paused. “I mean. I didn’t not. But then I didn’t at all. Or like… Like I guess when you told him it, I didn’t really question it, even if it kinda didn’t sound right. But once we were away from him, I knew it was a lie.”
Interesting.
“So that’s, like, indirect lies I guess?” Christopher said, rubbing his chin. “Anyone you’re directly talking to is gonna fall for it, hook, line, and sinker. But people just kinda overhearing it aren’t gonna fight you on it, but it’s gonna fade off once they get away from the people you were directly lying to.”
“Huh.” This was a limitation I hadn’t considered. I hadn’t actually considered any limitations, since being a God with limits sounded lame, but I guess that’s what I get for being a level two God or whatever. “Well. Maybe it’ll increase when I level up more. So let’s get that landlord on the phone and get cracking.”
–
It was surprisingly easy to get in touch with the landlord. Maybe I shouldn’t have been surprised, given my magical powers, but it seemed like so many little things just went so off the rails wrong, that I just expected this to backfire. Instead, I sweet talked the landlord’s name and number from one of the staff downstairs and asked them to call him in to speak with me.
I’m not exactly sure what they told him, since I’d started bickering with Joni while they talked on the phone, but it must have been urgent. The dude showed up less than half an hour later while I was in the shower, way sooner than I expected given it was closing in on 10 at night.
“Sammi, your phone’s ringing.”
“Shit, Blair! What did I say about coming in while I’m showering?” I shut the water off fast, and yanked my towel around me. The bathroom was a huge, gleaming white marble room with the shower in the middle, surrounded by three panels of clear glass and three panels of fogged glass. I couldn’t tell you why but it did look cool.
Right now it just meant less privacy.
“Oh right.” Blair didn’t sound sorry at all. “Sorry,” she lied. “Anyway, the landlord called your phone three times.”
See what I mean? Way sooner than I expected.
“Ah shit.” I pulled the towel closer around me. “Tell him I’ll be right down.”
“Sammi, I can’t pick up phones.”
“Shit shit shit.” She was right. “All right, get out of here and let me put on some clothes so I can handle this.”
Blair saluted and drifted from the room.
I didn’t waste any time drying myself off, and instead yanked my slightly less fashionable clothes over my sopping wet skin. They were starting to look a little ragged, since I’d worn them for almost two straight days and had gotten them stained with blood and stuff. Maybe Tina wouldn’t mind doing some household chores, cleaning up some stuff?
After a lightning speed dress, I stumbled out of the bathroom and managed to snatch up my phone a hair before it rolled to voicemail.
“Hi,” I said, breathlessly. “Hey. Hi. Jordan, right? Hey. How’s it shaking?”
“Is this Samantha?” The voice sounded uppity and brusque, and the hair on the back of my neck stood up. “I heard the unit had some maintenance issues during your tour. I’m outside to take a look.”
Oh shit, had I said that? It was kinda a blur.
“Right,” I said. “Yeah, you can come in. I’m decent.”
“You’re in the unit now?”
I sucked in a breath. “Uh. Yeah. Yeah, I figured I’d wait here so I could tell you what was wrong in person.”
Jordan was quiet for a moment on the other line. “Um. All right, I guess you can be here. I’ll come right in.”
“Okay, see you soon!” I grit my teeth as I jammed the hangup button on my phone. Fuck fuck fuck, I wasn’t expecting this to happen so soon. I should’ve waited until tomorrow.
“Sammi.” Joni’s snap brought me right back to attention. “You got this. You know what to say. We briefed this already.”
We had, but Jordan’s voice made me nervous. I could just picture this older looking twerpy guy with a smug face, a clean suit, and a big watch.
I was about half right. Older, yes, smug face, yes. But he was wearing more like a jeans and polo thing, and didn’t have a big watch. He did have designer glasses, which I only noticed because both Blair and Christopher pointed them out.
“All right,” he said. He took a moment to politely, if still incredibly condescendingly, appraise my soaking wet clothes that I’d pulled right over my soaking wet body. “I’m guessing there’s an issue with the plumbing?”
Keep it simple, Sammi. Keep it simple.
I smiled sweetly. “No problems at all! You’re just up here checking how my first day’s going, after agreeing to let me stay here for a month, rent free, to trial out the place.”
Jordan nodded, face just as polite and condescending. “And how are you finding it? Take a fully clothed swim to try out the pool?” He gave a fake chuckle. “It’s state of the art. Infinity pools aren’t easy to construct this high up, but that’s why it’s so unique.”
My fists tightened just slightly. “I’m loving it so far. Thanks for stopping by! I’ll see you again in a month to give you my final word on whether I’ll be renting it. If I need anything, I’ll just call you, but there’s no need for you to check in at all in the next month.”
What else, what else, what else.
“The. System.” Joni hissed, her teeth so tight I could barely make out her words. “Put your name in the system.”
System system system–Oh right!
“The only thing you really need to do is make sure the building has me registered as an official tenant. You know, just get my name in all the systems, make sure I have the right cards, all that.” I waved a hand. “I’m basically like any other tenant–well, okay, I’m basically your top priority tenant–I’m just not paying you yet.”
He gave another head bob. “Of course, I was actually just planning on stopping by the head concierge on my way down to make sure she has you all filed in. And of course, let me know if there are any other issues. I’m just one call away. I’ll see you in a month.”
With a suave grin and a casual wave, he turned and walked right out of the unit.
I waited a good forty five seconds before I breathed again.
“God, that was stressful.” My words bellowed out like I hadn’t breathed in years.
“Jesus fuck that was so easy.” Cara looked disconcerted. “Is that going to work? Won’t it be a problem for us if you’re officially listed as a tenant?”
“Uh. Would it?” I frowned.
She stared at me like I was loony toons. “Because we’re literally wanted criminals?”
Fair point. But I waved this off. “Please. It’ll take more than a few minutes for the cops to find us, and then I’ll just figure out what to say after that. Besides.” I laced my fingers together and cracked them hard, eyes already darting to my little glowing Source icon. “I got a little housekeeping to do first.”