The Fine Print by Lauren Asher
Rowan
My new assistant, Martha, is a Dreamland veteran who has worked for all the Directors of the theme park, including my grandfather. She’s handled my transition with ease. The way she knows everything about everyone has been a bonus, making me breathe easier considering my move to Florida.
Because of Martha’s key intel, I know how to find most of the Dreamland employees all in one place to formally introduce myself. I’m able to secure my choice of a seat because I made sure to be the first one to arrive for the morning meeting. I pick the perfect spot in the back of the auditorium where the fluorescent lights don’t reach, cloaking me in much-desired darkness. Sitting away from curious eyes will allow me to observe how the crew interacts and how the managers resolve problems.
Ten minutes before the meeting, everyone files inside the space and fills the countless rows of seats. Whatever energy I give off has the employees avoiding the back row for the more preferred seats in the front and middle. There’s only one person who braves the seat in front of me. The older gentleman stares at me like I’m inconveniencing him by sitting in his territory, but I ignore him.
Spotlights at the front of the room focus on Joyce, the daytime crew manager and Dreamland house mom. She has a helmet of white hair and blue eyes that scan the entire room like a drill sergeant. I’m not sure how she knows my location, but her eyes land on mine and she nods with pressed lips.
Joyce taps her clipboard. “All right, everyone. Let’s get started. We have a lot to cover and little time before the first guests arrive.” She sets the meeting agenda and moves through countless questions with confidence. She barely breathes as she discusses the July schedule of parades, festivals, and celebrities visiting the land.
The door behind me creaks open. I turn in my chair and look over my shoulder. A younger brunette woman slides through the small crack before shutting it softly behind her.
I look down at my watch. Who is she and why is she twenty minutes late?
She clutches onto a neon pink Penny skateboard with one golden brown arm as she scans the packed room. I take advantage of her distraction to assess her. She’s beautiful in a way that makes it difficult to refocus my attention on the conversation at the front of the room.
I hate it yet I can’t look away. My eyes trace the curves of her body, drawing a path from her delicate throat to her thick thighs. The speed of my heart picks up.
I clench my hands into two fists, disliking the lack of control I have over my body.
Get a hold of yourself.
I take a few deep breaths to slow my heart rate.
A lock of dark hair falls in front of her eyes. She tucks it behind an ear decked out in gold piercings. As if she senses my gaze, her eyes land on me—or more so the empty seat next to me.
The woman walks out of the lit entrance and toward the aisle shrouded in darkness. She checks out the seating arrangement as if she wants to figure out how to slide into the chair beside me with as little contact as possible.
“Hi. Excuse me.” Her voice is soft with a hint of an accent. She takes a deep breath as she moves inch by inch into my personal space.
I don’t say a damn thing as I clutch onto the armrests. I’m given an up-close and personal view of her backside, barely constrained by her unregulated attire of jeans and a T-shirt.
There’s a reason uniforms are mandatory while on company property and I’m staring straight at it. The back of my neck heats, and the armrests creak under the pressure of my hands. Her perfume hits my nose. My eyes drift shut at the intoxicating smell—a mix of flowers, citrus, and something I can’t quite place.
She fumbles around my long legs with the gracefulness of a newborn giraffe.
Wanting to end this, I give her some space by sitting up. My sudden movement has her tripping over my feet. One of her hands smacks against my lap for balance, missing my cock by only a few inches. Electricity shoots up my leg right to my crotch.
Shit. Since when has someone’s touch given me that kind of a reaction?
Her wide eyes look into mine, showing off thick lashes and brown, almond-shaped eyes. She blinks a couple times, proving she possesses some form of cognitive functioning. “I’m so sorry.” Her lips gape apart as she stares down at her hand on my lap. She gasps and rips her hand away from my thigh, taking her warmth and the weird feeling with her.
Some older crew member looks over his shoulder. “Do you mind taking a seat already? I can barely hear Joyce over your usual racket.”
Usual racket? Good to know that this is a pattern.
“Right. Yes,” she sputters.
I consider her ability to slide into the chair beside me without another accident as a miracle. She drops her loud jangling backpack on the floor, causing yet another distraction. Metal rattles and pings as she bends over and unzips the bag.
I shut my eyes and breathe through my nose to calm the dull ache pulsing at my temples. Except I take in more of her perfume with each deep breath, making it impossible to forget her.
Her arm brushes up against my leg during her search. A similar spark shoots down my spine at the contact, like a rush of heat begging to go somewhere.
Anywhere but there for fuck’s sake.
“Do you mind?” I grind out.
“Sorry!” She winces as she finally grabs her notebook and snaps back into a sitting position. Her Penny board slides off her lap and smashes into my two-thousand-dollar shoes.
There’s a reason those damn things were banned from the park decades ago. I kick the contraband item away from me and right into the ankles of the same man who reprimanded her earlier.
“Come on, Zahra.” The man turns his head and shoots her a withering look.
Zahra. Hername fits the wildness I’ve only had a tiny taste of.
“Sorry, Ralph,” she mutters.
“Stop being sorry and start being early for once.”
I fight the urge to smile. There’s nothing I enjoy more than people being called out on their bullshit.
She leans over and places a delicate hand on the man’s shoulder. “Can I make it up to you with fresh bread that Claire and I made last night?”
Bread? Is she seriously offering this man food after he got annoyed with her?
Ralph shrugs. “Throw in some cookies and I won’t complain to Joyce about you being late again.”
I blink at the graying grump in front of me.
“I knew you had a soft spot for me. People say you’re mean but I don’t believe a word of it.” She shoves his shoulder in a familiar way.
I see what she’s doing here. Somehow, she wrapped old Ralph around her finger with nothing but a smile and a promise of baked goods.
This woman is dangerous—like a landmine someone doesn’t see until it’s too late. Zahra grabs a package from her backpack and drops it into Ralph’s waiting hands.
Ralph cracks a smile, revealing a chipped front tooth. “Don’t let anyone in on our secret. I couldn’t handle the fall out.”
“Of course. I wouldn’t dare.” She lets out a soft laugh that reverberates through my chest like someone smashed a damn gong with a sledgehammer in there. Warmth spreads through my body, scaring the shit out of me.
Her white teeth stand out in the dark as she shoots Ralph a beaming smile. There’s something about the look on her face that has my heart racing faster in my chest. Beautiful. Carefree. Innocent.
Like she’s actually happy with her life rather than faking it like the rest of us.
My teeth smash together as I let out an agitated breath. “Are you done? Some of us are trying to pay attention.”
The whites of Ralph’s eyes grow larger before he turns around in his chair, leaving Zahraall by herself.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers under her breath.
I ignore her apology and refocus my attention on Joyce.
“Some big changes are happening at Corporate that we will be reviewing over the next week. They’re going to be keeping a close eye on us this quarter.”
“Great. Just what we need,” Zahra mumbles under her breath as she scribbles in her notebook.
“Do you have a problem with Corporate?” I’m not sure what I expect to hear or why I even care.
She laughs to herself, and I’m hit with another weird feeling in my rib cage. “The real question is who doesn’t have a problem with Corporate.”
“Why?”
“Because The Kane Company Board is filled with a bunch of old men who sit around talking about how much money they’ve made, without actually discussing the important matters at hand.”
“And you’re an expert on board meetings all of a sudden?”
“It doesn’t take a genius to draw conclusions based on how they treat us here.”
“And how’s that?”
“Like we don’t matter as long as we make them billions of dollars a year.”
If she notices my glare, she seems unbothered by it. “Aren’t employees paid not to complain?”
She directs her smile at me. “Sorry, that’ll cost the company extra, and seeing as most of us make minimum wage, silence isn’t part of the deal.” Her voice is light and airy, which only annoys me more.
“It should be if only to prevent you from spewing more ignorant statements.”
She sucks in a breath and returns her focus to her notebook, finally giving me the quiet I wanted.
“This next quarter is going to be different from the last one.” Joyce’s eyes brighten.
A few crew members grumble under their breath.
“Oh, come on. It’s the truth.”
Zahra makes a noise in the back of her throat. She scribbles some notes across her notebook, but I can’t make out the words in the dark.
“You don’t believe her?” What the hell are you doing, man? She finally shut up and now you’re asking her questions?
Her head snaps in my direction, but I can’t make out her expression. “Because nothing good can happen now that Brady’s really gone.” Her voice cracks.
My molars smash together. Who does she think she is to call my grandfather Brady? It’s insulting. “The park has performed better in the last year alone than ever before, so I find your statement baseless.”
Her knee bounces in an annoying fashion. “Not everything is about a bottom line. Sure, the park performed better, but at what expense? Small wages? Cheaper health insurance benefits for employees and unpaid vacation days?”
If she’s trying to appeal to my humanity, she might die trying. People in my position don’t lead with our hearts because we would never be satisfied with something so ridiculous.
We don’t seek to make the world better.
We seek to make it ours.
I readjust my position in my chair to look at her. “Spoken like someone who knows nothing about running a multibillion-dollar industry. Not that I’m surprised. You do work here, after all.”
She reaches out and pinches my arm. Her small fingers lack the strength to do any real damage.
“What the hell was that for?” I snap.
“I was trying to see if this was a nightmare. Turns out this whole train wreck of a conversation is very real.”
“Touch me again and you’ll be fired on the spot.”
She freezes. “Which department did you say you were from again?”
“I didn’t.”
She smacks her forehead with her hand as she switches between English and a foreign language I’m not familiar with.
“What department do you work in?” I counter.
She sits up taller with a grin like I didn’t threaten to fire her a second ago. Bizarre. “I’m a beautician at The Magic Wand Salon.”
“Great. So at least you don’t do anything important enough to be missed.”
Her chair creaks underneath her as she recoils. “God, you’re such an asshole.”
Joyce couldn’t have planned my entrance any better than this. She calls out my name and everyone’s heads turn in the direction of our dark corner.
I rise from my seat and look over at Zahra with a raised brow. Her head hangs low, and her chest shakes. From laughter?
What the hell? She should be apologizing and begging for her job.
Joyce calls my name, and my head snaps in the direction of the stage.
I turn toward the crowd and walk away from Zahra. There’s only one thing I need to focus on, and my goal has nothing to do with a woman who dared to call me an asshole and laugh about it.
