Мишель Роуэн: Angel with Attitude

You’ve got to be kidding me, Val thought with despair. Is this part of my punishment, too?

The taxi had let her off in front of a run-down motel just off the main strip of Niagara Falls.

She stood in place in her oversized T-shirt, her long, wet blond hair hanging like a drippy curtain over her right shoulder, clutching the wallet against her chest, and just stared at the

Paradise Inn.

All Val had ever known in her existence had been Heaven. And Heaven, as was common knowledge, was perfect. Whatever one’s idea of perfection was, that is how Heaven became to suit them. Beauty as far as the eye could see, clean and comfortable and flawless in every way.

This, however, was a whole other story.

The Paradise Inn had seen better days. To say the least. It was run-down, with roof tiles missing and a big crack in the tacky fifties-style sign. It looked tired and old and only days away from being demolished.

Val closed her eyes for a moment and tried to think of Heaven. It wasn’t cold there, for one thing. Always the perfect temperature. She never felt alone because there was always someone with her or very close by. She felt needed there, not discarded like a bubblegum wrapper. She knew what to expect and that there was nothing to fear there. And, also . . . also—

She frowned. She knew what it was like, how great it was, but as she tried to picture it, the images in her head started to become a little fuzzy. She opened her eyes again and swallowed hard, feeling a wave of panic flood her as she saw where she really was.

It was one thing to be abandoned, when it was so obviously a mistake, but to be led to an obvious dead end like this?

Her bottom lip wobbled. Maybe the nice cab driver—who had seemed so surprised to pick up a half-naked woman that he didn’t even complain about the fact she was slightly soggy from her unexpected nosedive into the tank—would take her somewhere better than this.

Somewhere appropriate where she could think about what she was going to do next, in comfort and luxury.

She turned back to the cab just as it pulled away from the curb.

“Wait!” she called, but it was too late.

She swallowed hard. The street was fairly busy. She could see another yellow taxi in the distance. She raised her hand as it approached.

But it didn’t stop. Instead it drove right through a puddle, drenching Val in a small tidal wave of cold water. She sputtered and wiped at her face.

Her bottom lip began to wobble again.

She turned back around to face the motel.

PARADISE INN. VACANCY.

Lucky me, she thought. There’s a vacancy. Woo-hoo.

Just then, she heard a strange sound. She frowned and listened, then turned around to see that it was squealing tires. A rusty Volkswagen Jetta came to a screeching halt next to her. The passenger door flew open, and a man flew out who hit the sidewalk hard. The door slammed shut and the car sped off.

The man got to his feet, brushed off his faded jeans, and yelled, “Claire, baby! Come on . . . I didn’t do anything wrong!” He sighed heavily, and turned to glance absently at Val. “My girlfriend. She’s the jealous type. No reason to be though.” His gaze slowly tracked down

Val’s wet BOOM-BOOM-THE-KILLER-WHALE-T-shirt-and-nothing-else clad body.

“Well, hello there, beautiful.”

She looked at him warily. He was pleasant looking. A few inches taller than she, and with brown hair that was definitely receding. He smiled, which slightly showed off his crooked teeth and she noted that his brown eyes were friendly. She felt goose bumps form on her arms and took a step back.

“You’re a demon, aren’t you?” she asked quietly.

“I’m a what?”

“Demon. Please leave me alone. Don’t come any closer.”

He stared at her blankly, then laughed. “Is that what Claire called me before she took off?

She’s so cute. Must be a new pet name.”

Val frowned at him, not sure what to think or do next.

He wagged a finger at her. “Don’t I know you?”

She shook her head and shifted her bare feet nervously against the cool sidewalk.

“No, I know you. Those legs. Unforgettable.” He snapped his fingers. “I’ve got it. That strip club down on Barrister Road . . . What’s it called again? . . . Booty Call? Yeah, that’s it.

You’re a strip . . . er”—he cleared his throat—“I mean . . . exotic dancer.”

“Booty what?”

“Not that I go there anymore. Nah. Me and Claire, we’ve got something special between us.

She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” He sighed and stared off in the direction of the speeding Jetta.

Val glanced in the same direction. “Claire is the woman who just threw you out of her car?”

He smiled dreamily and leaned his shoulder against the Pardise Inn signpost. “That’s the one.”

“And . . . you think I’m a . . . an exotic dancer?”

“Nothing to be ashamed of, gorgeous. Noble profession.”

“I’m not.” Val looked down at herself to note that the now wet T-shirt was, in fact, see-

through. She crossed her arms. “Seriously. I’m not.”

“If you say so,” he grinned. “What’s your name, gorgeous?”

“Valerie Grace.”

“I’m Reggie.” He reached out to shake her tentative hand. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to

. . . hey, you can let go now.”

She clutched his hand. “I need to go back. You have to help me.”

“Ow! You’ve got a grip on you, you know that?”

“I don’t belong here.” She swallowed hard and realized she was tearing up again. This man seemed nice enough. He couldn’t be a demon. He would have tried to tempt her by now, and she certainly didn’t feel very tempted, if that was worth anything. And if he was a demon, well, he seemed like a very nice one who meant no harm. He’d help her, wouldn’t he?

Grabbing the nearest thing seemed like her best course of action. The nearest thing, in this case, was his hand. Currently turning purple.

“So if you don’t belong here, then leave! My hand! Alone!” He yanked away from her and looked at her warily. “Where are you from, anyhow?”

“Heaven.” She sniffed, ran a hand under her nose and tried not to cry. She turned her gaze away to stare at the seedy motel.

“Heaven.” He frowned.“Is that another strip club? What town is that in?”

“It’s not a strip club.” She was about to tell him about what happened to her. That they’d kicked her out of Heaven for no reason. That it was a huge mistake because she’d never done anything to deserve this kind of treatment. She was a great angel! Her last job review had even said so. And management always did very detailed report scrolls. What had hers said again? She thought about it and came up blank. She frowned. Why couldn’t she remember?

She wiped a tear away. “It’s been a really bad day. That’s all. Sorry for freaking out a bit.”

Reggie shook his head. “The beautiful ones are always a bit nutty. My girlfriend is, too.

Totally understandable. Probably your time of the month, right?”

“My what?”

He waved his hand. “Forget I asked. So, are you staying here?” Reggie nodded at the motel.

She swallowed. “Not if I can help it.”

“Then what are you doing here?”

She pulled the ratty piece of paper out of her wallet and showed it to him. He squinted at it, then took it away from her.

“Oh, you must be here for the job,” he said.

“For the what?” She glanced at the paper and was surprised to see that the motel name and address wasn’t the only thing written on it anymore.

It also had “B. Barlow,” and “1:00 P.M.” on it. It hadn’t said that before, she was almost positive. Then again, since her plunge, she hadn’t really been thinking clearly.