felt my eyes burn, dying to leak and make me look like a fool.
He referenced that million page document that I had signed a thousand times when I had agreed to be a Karma Incorporated operative. Indentured servitude they should call it. I was stuck in this position until some unnamed entity deemed I had learned my lesson. Death sucks.
“He wants two thousand. I tried to wish for cash but nothing happened.” I tried another tactic.
“You can only conjure up something if it’s required for a job. I told you this. Don’t get flagged, Cassie. If it’s for personal gain, you’re shit out of luck and could find yourself demoted if you continue to try,” he shrugged. “Good thing you’re earning tips, right?”
“What are the perks of being a Karma Incorporated operative again?” I said petulantly. I wasn't having fun anymore.
“You’re not in Limbo.”
“Fuck.”
Chapter 11
The Perks of Being a Karma Incorporated Operative
T he perks of being a Karma Incorporated operative became evident to me as I was standing in line at the coffee shop. I was going to see if my credit card worked for fuel to get me through my bartending shift.
A girl cut in front of me in line. No excuse me, the line turned to the side, to allow people to walk in and out of the door. The girl didn’t see the curve of people to the right of the counter. She just walked up in front of me and stood there, ignoring me and the five people behind me as we grumbled.
She knew we were there. The negative energy that swirled around her made that obvious. She cut the line because her bladder was full and she was in a rush. I also knew that this would be her fifth time late for work this month because she was up late flirting with a guy online that lived in England while her husband slept. I don’t know how I knew this, I just did.
I stared daggers into the back of her head, imagining that she couldn’t hold it anymore. That pressure was too much, and she had to pee so badly. The barista ran the faucet and the sound of the water was overwhelming. Her bladder gave way and she pissed herself. She was wearing a skirt so it was like a downpour. She left a puddle on the floor, and didn’t get her coffee as she ran out of the cafe. A few others in line decided they didn’t want coffee anymore either. Not worth braving the ocean of piss.
It left the line wide open for me.
I sidestepped the puddle of urine and happily ordered my super grande size frozen chocolate coffee drink. I chose to ignore the smell, focusing on yummy coffee instead. My credit card worked and I gave the barista an extra big tip. I knew she would probably have to clean up the puddle. Poor girl. She looked about to cry. Everyone in the cafe was sort of dazed and confused after the dramatics, but at least the barista got my drink right. She even added extra whip. Yum. She earned the tip.
I walked the rest of the way to work in a good mood. My earlier interactions with Drake and Brandon were far from my mind. I was looking forward to another night at the bar. It sounded weird, but I liked the interaction and I even liked working with Bishop, even though he was a thieving shit. At least he had a good personality and he had a repertoire of good jokes that he laid on me throughout the night. I loved a good joke.
The bar was next door to a drug store that was always teaming with traffic. I cut across the parking lot and rolled my eyes as a pickup with ridiculously huge tires came tearing through the lot, almost taking out an elderly gentleman, and screeched into a spot. A parking spot that another person was about to turn into. It would have been okay, it was technically two spots, but the douchebag didn’t straighten out. He left the truck shifted to the left and taking up both spots. Two teens jumped out of the truck, laughing and carrying on. The driver even had the audacity to look over at me and call out something unintelligible, but the sexual innuendo was clear when he grabbed
He referenced that million page document that I had signed a thousand times when I had agreed to be a Karma Incorporated operative. Indentured servitude they should call it. I was stuck in this position until some unnamed entity deemed I had learned my lesson. Death sucks.
“He wants two thousand. I tried to wish for cash but nothing happened.” I tried another tactic.
“You can only conjure up something if it’s required for a job. I told you this. Don’t get flagged, Cassie. If it’s for personal gain, you’re shit out of luck and could find yourself demoted if you continue to try,” he shrugged. “Good thing you’re earning tips, right?”
“What are the perks of being a Karma Incorporated operative again?” I said petulantly. I wasn't having fun anymore.
“You’re not in Limbo.”
“Fuck.”
Chapter 11
The Perks of Being a Karma Incorporated Operative
T he perks of being a Karma Incorporated operative became evident to me as I was standing in line at the coffee shop. I was going to see if my credit card worked for fuel to get me through my bartending shift.
A girl cut in front of me in line. No excuse me, the line turned to the side, to allow people to walk in and out of the door. The girl didn’t see the curve of people to the right of the counter. She just walked up in front of me and stood there, ignoring me and the five people behind me as we grumbled.
She knew we were there. The negative energy that swirled around her made that obvious. She cut the line because her bladder was full and she was in a rush. I also knew that this would be her fifth time late for work this month because she was up late flirting with a guy online that lived in England while her husband slept. I don’t know how I knew this, I just did.
I stared daggers into the back of her head, imagining that she couldn’t hold it anymore. That pressure was too much, and she had to pee so badly. The barista ran the faucet and the sound of the water was overwhelming. Her bladder gave way and she pissed herself. She was wearing a skirt so it was like a downpour. She left a puddle on the floor, and didn’t get her coffee as she ran out of the cafe. A few others in line decided they didn’t want coffee anymore either. Not worth braving the ocean of piss.
It left the line wide open for me.
I sidestepped the puddle of urine and happily ordered my super grande size frozen chocolate coffee drink. I chose to ignore the smell, focusing on yummy coffee instead. My credit card worked and I gave the barista an extra big tip. I knew she would probably have to clean up the puddle. Poor girl. She looked about to cry. Everyone in the cafe was sort of dazed and confused after the dramatics, but at least the barista got my drink right. She even added extra whip. Yum. She earned the tip.
I walked the rest of the way to work in a good mood. My earlier interactions with Drake and Brandon were far from my mind. I was looking forward to another night at the bar. It sounded weird, but I liked the interaction and I even liked working with Bishop, even though he was a thieving shit. At least he had a good personality and he had a repertoire of good jokes that he laid on me throughout the night. I loved a good joke.
The bar was next door to a drug store that was always teaming with traffic. I cut across the parking lot and rolled my eyes as a pickup with ridiculously huge tires came tearing through the lot, almost taking out an elderly gentleman, and screeched into a spot. A parking spot that another person was about to turn into. It would have been okay, it was technically two spots, but the douchebag didn’t straighten out. He left the truck shifted to the left and taking up both spots. Two teens jumped out of the truck, laughing and carrying on. The driver even had the audacity to look over at me and call out something unintelligible, but the sexual innuendo was clear when he grabbed
Similar Books
