Urban Angel
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“I’m ordering you to do it.”
“No thanks.” It wasn’t like Melissa had any power and even if she did Angel would hardly pay attention to the jumped up tart in the spiked heels.
“I’m in charge.”
Angel glanced at the blonde coolly. “In your dreams.”
“I’ll tell Wayne.”
Like I haven’t heard that ninety-nine times before. Wayne Shane was the boss who no one saw except Melissa and the theory was that was the only part of him she did see was one-eyed and when she was down on her knees and her mouth open waiting to receive.
“Go. Do it. Go get head—I mean get ahead.”
Melissa’s face went red and she stamped her feet. “How dare you!”
“I dare a lot. Go report me. Do whatever.” She knew by now there had to be heads popping up over the barricades like meerkats. Her relationship with Melissa was the only thing that made the dingy office interesting.
Amarinda Jones
Amarinda Jones believes anything is possible and sometimes just asking for the impossible will surprise someone enough that they will give it to you. Writing is like that. Put it out there and wait for a response. There is always the possibility you may fall on your arse, but after all, that's what cellulite is for. Amarinda believes in taking chances, speaking her mind and aging disgracefully. Twenty years from now she plans on being the neighborhood witch that all the kids are scared of. But then, everyone has to have a hobby.
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Urban Angel - Amarinda Jones
Published by Amarinda Jones at Smashwords
www.amarindajones.com
Copyright© 2012 Amarinda Jones
Cover Artist: Amarinda Jones
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Urban Angel
© Amarinda Jones
Chapter one
Thwack! Angel Kennedy slammed down the stack of invoices on her desk. Under her breath she chanted vehemently, ‘I hate this job. I hate this job. I hate this fucking job.’ She had just come from having the dumbest fight with Melissa Van Lissa—office know-it-all accounts person and recognized gold digging slut who was balling the boss. It was a well-know fact. The bottle-blonde bitch had the rug burns on her elbow and knees to confirm it. Melissa was supposed to teach Angel the job she had been contracted to do. Accounts payable. In many ways it was a no-brainer but like all unfamiliar accounting systems, there were quirks and procedures that were to be followed. Being a temp on a contracted wage for a specific period, Angel was expected to pick up the job fast. Normally she did. But Melissa made the job anything but normal. She tried to harass and bully Angel, demeaning her efforts except when management was around. Then she would be at her side assiduously teaching her so those in authority could all see how good she was. Fucking bitch. I could so snot her one.
Angel sat down hard on her office chair, so hard that it slid backwards over the tiles and hit the wall behind her. Stupid place,
she muttered to herself. The office floor was tiled and not level due to the fact the building had been built on one of the old swamps that now made up the modern tourist city of Cairns. Every time she sat down she rolled backwards. Once more she dug her burgundy colored, fake Manolo Blahnik twenty-nine-ninety-five dollar heels in and pulled forward, all the time telling herself that she was only a temp and she could leave at any time.
And she would. Angel had another temporary job lined up to start in a month. Until then she had to deal with odious Melissa. There was always one of them in every temp job she took on. Different offices yet with the same anal people who had the same quirks, dreams and arguments as the last place she landed in. But, being a hired gun who was paid higher than the going rate, you got that. You dealt with it and moved on. And while it was true Angel could have, with very little notice, left her current position and forfeited any pay-by-the-hour money she could have made, she still had a car payment due and the rent on her apartment. She could live cheap. She knew how to do it. Yet, after a childhood of struggle, of never having enough, Angel wanted more. Suck it up and get on with it, girl.
So, she would work what she had to and give the employment agency one hour’s warning as per contract when she was ready to move on. They thought she would stay on longer. Permanency wasn’t something Angel was interested in and it would give her a lot of satisfaction in giving in her notice. It would piss off Urgencia, the company she was currently working for and who, unlike their name, were anything but urgent in their dealings. Urgencia was part of an Australian based company who were working oil deposits in Papua New Guinea. The office in Cairns paid the invoices that came in from the island nation. When they felt like it that is. The main problem was the invoicing department, where she was located, had a long history of hating the accounts payable area. It was all very well logging invoices to be paid but if no one wanted to pay them due to office politics then it all seemed rather pointless. The accounts payable divas were located down the end of the building behind a fortress of dull, grey partitions reportedly erected so they couldn’t see their invoicing archenemies. It was all beyond stupid to Angel. And, that’s what the fight with Melissa had been about.
Melissa had fronted Angel ten minutes ago with her latest demand. Go and tell them they have to do a pay run.
Dozens of frenzied phone calls had come in from Papua New Guinea about errant bills. Invoicing didn’t talk to the payable people. Hey, I’m the temp. I have no authority.
And Angel liked