Page 1 of Incubus with Benefits
Chapter 1
Lily
Istoodinthelobby, clutching a pathetic cardboard box filled with the few things I’d kept at my desk, and tried to process the fact that I’d actually been fired. Fired. After everything I’d done for them.
The security guard blocked my path, arms crossed like he thought I was going to charge through him to beg for my job back. I wasn’t. No fucking way! Not after the way they’d betrayedme. My pulse rushed in my ears, the rage starting to build now that I was over the shell-shocked part.
Calm. Breathe.
The last thing I needed was to turn a situation where I was one hundred percent, beyond a doubt, entirely in the right, to one where I was being carted off in handcuffs like some crazy lady.
Grinding my teeth, I turned and stormed out, my heels making a sharp clack-clack-clack on the lobby’s tiles. It wasn’t until I hit the sidewalk that I realized I hadn’t even called a ride. Great. Just great.
I wasn’t going to wait around awkwardly, so I kept walking, too furious to care, heading in the general direction of home and hoping the movement would burn off some of the very righteous fury. As I stomped down the street, I replayed the meeting in my head.
When my boss called me to the office this morning, I thought that it was to congratulate me on a job well done. Hell, I deserved it. I’d led our team through a nightmare of a rushed project. My team and I worked like machines, pulling several all-nighters and consuming enough caffeine to fuel a small army. We’d pulled out not just a deliverable product, but a damned good one, in record time.
So imagine my surprise when she accused me and my team of stealing someone else’s work. First, I thought it was a joke. Like, seriously?
You know how people say they felt like they were punched in the gut when they get bad news? Well, I’d never experienced that before until today, when I realized they really thought we stole the work!
I’d tried reason at first, trying to stay calm, logical, and professional. “We have records,” I’d told her. “Every step of the process is automatically saved in the system. You can see who did what, when.”
She’d waved a dismissive hand like I was wasting her precious time. “That could be faked,” she said. “Besides, I saw the code. It looked too similar.”
I might have lost it just a wee bit at that point. “It’s code!” I’d snapped. Then, trying my very best to keep my voice from going up a whole damned octave, I’d said, “There are only so many ways to write it before it stops working altogether.”
It was then that I’d noticed the tight expression on her face, like she had no choice in the matter. “I’m surprised, honestly,” she said, like that made any of this better. “You’ve been vital to the company for so long. But there’s nothing I can do.”
Nothing she could do? That was rich. How about checking the records in the freaking system?
Then she’d hurled the final insult. “You might be able to talk to Steven about dropping the whole thing.”
Steven. Smug, arrogant Steven. Also known as the manager of the other development team, who thought he could get all grabby in the break room. Also known as the guy I’d turneddown twice, telling him I didn’t date coworkers. Also known as the big boss’s nephew. Truth was, I wouldn’t touch him with a ten-foot pole dipped in bleach.
I’d known right then and there that it was his words against mine, and I was losing no matter how much proof I had. I wasn’t even given a chance to defend myself more than that. By the time I was back at my desk, someone had already packed my few measly belongings, and security was waiting to escort me out.
The city pavement was unforgiving, and apparently so was the universe, because I’d barely made it to the donut shop two blocks from the office when my heel snagged in a crack in the pavement. A blur of flailing limbs, airborne office supplies, and a very undignified shriek later, I hit the ground hard, scraping my elbow, but saving my face from the same fate.
My mug, the one I’d made myself in that pottery class a few years back withWitch Better Have My Coffeewritten on it, lay in three separate pieces. My peace lily was upended on the sidewalk with its chubby roots in the air.
But that wasn’t the thing that had me wanting to cry. My shoes! I’d splurged on this particular pair of Louboutins after my promotion to lead developer. They were my armor in a male-dominated industry, my rebellion against the stereotype that software engineers were all hoodie-wearing, hygiene-optional trolls, because we weren’t.
I yanked the heel free from the crack and nearly cried at the scuff marks. And after all the extra work I’d done to protect the gorgeous red soles from the grind of daily life. The pain in myankle was nothing compared to the heartbreak of seeing luxury leather marred beyond recognition.
Gathering my scattered belongings, I limped to the nearest bench and pulled out my phone. There was no way I was hobbling the ten-plus blocks home like some pathetic, modern Cinderella.
A few taps on theSpeed Demon Cabsapp and I was on my way home. That was the best thing about their ride service; it was always quick and efficient. Some people still had qualms about getting into a car with a demon, ifrit, or incubus, but I’d never had a bad experience yet.
The moment I was alone in my condo, I screamed into a cushion as loudly as I could, then collapsed onto the couch. After a few deep breaths, I called Penny.
Penny, Griselda, and I were best friends, and together we made up what had to be the smallest coven in the world. Not that it was official or anything. We didn’t even have a name, because we couldn’t decide on one. But we did have a weekly meeting, which usually just meant we hung out together, and we were listed as coven sisters in theLet’s Talk About Hexforum.
“You will not believe the dumpster fire that was my day,” I said the moment she picked up.
“It’s not even noon. What happened?” Penny asked.
“I got fired. Fired! For stealing code. From Steven.”
