Cheat (Karma Inc. Book 1) Read Free Page A

talking about. So that meant my position was better than this drab office? Meaning my negative energy was better at death than Mr. Drab here, and he had supposedly worked his way up to these offices? He must have been a douche when he died. I could so see that. He wasn’t much better now, honestly.
    “Is it like a special position?” I asked. I liked special. Yeah, I was one of those. Everyone wanted to be a special snowflake.
    “I would say so, I would love to work there. You’ll be a Karma Incorporated operative. It’s like a special agent, but without the acronym, the badge, and well, you don’t risk your life or anything because you’re already…”
    “Dead,” I finished for him.

Chapter 3
Look at Me Now
    Present Day
    “ Y ou wanted to see me , Brandon?” I refused to call him boss like the rest of the undead Scooby gang he had under his employ.
    “Yeah, I did, sit down, Cassie.” He motioned to the sofa in the center of the room. I was still getting used to being called Cassie. I hadn’t been called that since grammar school. He insisted on it here, though. I couldn’t be Cassandra. Cassandra was dead. I was now Cassie.
    Brandon was like the cute older cousin I never had, well, maybe more of a friend. Because I could technically hook up with him. If I was inclined. Which I wasn't. He was man scruffy in the kind of way that was endearing when you first get to know him, but find aggravating if you get into a serious relationship with him. He was currently dressed in jeans and a tee that read, ‘I saw that – Karma’ and his light brown hair was sticking up this way and that. He wore glasses, even though he didn’t need them. He had confessed to me that they made him look professional. Obviously that was the only area he wanted to look professional because his brown flip flops did nothing for that particular case. I wanted to straighten his hair and make him change his pants; he had that effect on me. He brought out the protective mom gene that I thought was non-existent. I restrained myself though, he didn’t like fussing.
    I sat down instead, like he wanted me to. The sofa was a comfy overstuffed monstrosity that took up most of the room. Brandon usually worked from a recliner off to the side of his office slash living room, his feet propped up and his computer on his lap. I sat down at the end and tucked my legs under me; his tone had been sort of ominous so I tried not to fidget. I wondered if I could get fired from this job when I had barely even started.
    If I got fired, would I go down a few floors, as the processing guy had hinted at? Demoted was the term he had used. I tried to think if I had done something that warranted going to Hell. Nothing came to mind. I had kept my doucherbaggery to a minimum. I had actually tried my darnedest to do a good job. But, did the people in Hell realize they were douchebags? They probably all thought their behavior was justified, or right. Most douchebags were clueless as to their status in the human population. That’s how they lived with their doucherbaggery. I couldn’t be a douchebag. I was self-aware. I was a self-aware little snowflake. And I could keep myself in check. Or so I told myself every day.
    I was still only in my bikini, which was a shit move, if I thought about it. Who shows up for a meeting with their boss in a bikini? I didn’t even think to change since I was comfortable in almost anything. I could sit here naked and not feel uncomfortable. I tried not to give a lot of thought to that, thoughts sometimes led to changes, and I didn’t want my bikini to suddenly disappear. It was bad enough getting fired while wearing a bikini, if I were to suddenly be nude that would take things to a whole other level.
    “I think it’s about time you got your own case.” Brandon’s voice shattered my inner crazy. “You’re ready to be a full-time Karma Incorporated operative.”

Chapter 4
The Bitches of Afterlife
    Two Months Earlier…