Excerpt of Guarding Eden by Chastity Bush

Jake Carlson was a major league pain in the ass, but he was the most laid back boss in the world, so Eden didn't complain ... much. If Eden didn't know Jake as well as she did, she'd consider him a handsome man. But his ego, combined with his overly cocky attitude, clouded his good looks.

Jake stood tall and lean; not skinny lean, but swimmer lean, like Michael Phelps, with dark blond hair, green eyes, and high cheekbones. He looked as though he just stepped off the cover of GQ and smiled like the cat that ate the canary ninety–percent of the time. But his narcissist attitude wasn't the only thing that deterred Eden from becoming more than his friend/employee. Jake was also pushy, egotistical, and married to Satan's sister. Lorna Detweiller–Carlson was by far the worst person Eden had ever met in her entire thirty years of life. She was the Wicked Witch of the West, Michael Myers, and Jason all rolled into a younger, prettier, plastic package. And she was in the office today.

Great.

Her shrill, nasal voice, compliments of her three previous nose jobs, reached Eden's ears before she opened the large double–glass doors leading into the lobby of Carlson Décor, her home away from home for the last eight years.

"Then, I want you to find someone to repaint the master bath, but not the idiots you found to do it last time. There are splotches all over the room. Not to mention streaks where the imbeciles let the paint run," Lorna spewed as she petted the little furry rat–dog snuggled into the crook of her arm. "I don't know why Jake keeps you around. The last people you sent into the house tramped around like elephants and fucked everything up. They trekked paint all over the new tile and into the hallway.

Do you kiss your mother with that mouth? Eden wondered, as she walked past Tami's desk.

Tami Duvall started at Carlson Décor the same time as Eden. She could put up with more shit than Eden, being the number one reason Jake asked that she, specifically, deal with his wife, A.K.A. The–Biggest–Bitch–In–The–Unive rse.

"Do you have any idea how long it took me to clean the mess they left?"

About as long as it took you to dial the maid service?

At the moment, Tami looked as though she were about to leap across the desk and shove that yapping rat–dog down Lorna's throat.

Eden couldn't blame her. She'd dreamed countless times of wrapping her fingers around Lorna's scrawny neck and squeezing until the collagen popped out of her lips.

"What exactly" yap–yap–yap "are you" yap–yap "looking at?" yap–yap–yap, she asked Eden over the sound of the squirming dog.

Eden cringed.

Lorna appeared as she always did. Like a reject from Barnum and Bailey's Circus.

Her lime green blouse and matching gauchos hugged her body like a glove. Her bleach–blonde hair sat atop her head in a cross between a twisted knot and bun. Her make–up smeared across her too–sharp face as though it'd been applied with a putty knife.

Eden couldn't stop scenes from The Silence of the Lambs from passing through her

mind. At the moment, Lorna strongly resembled the killer and his little dog. Unable to resist the urge to be catty, Eden grinned.

"Hmm, I'm not really sure." Wrinkling her nose with distaste, she turned toward her office. Lorna's gasp of outrage, along with a string of violent curses followed her as she calmly closed the door behind her.

How or why Jake put up with Lorna, she didn't know. It could have something to do with Lorna's extremely wealthy family. Lorna's father owned the largest real estate office on the west coast. A lot of his buyers contracted Jake's company to redecorate their homes. So, new work flowed Eden's way all the time. Which meant she got paid.

Deciding the best thing she could do for herself was take a dip in her work, she pulled out the desk chair and sat. The cool leather surrounded her, comforting her. She'd only been gone three days, but that didn't stop work from piling up.

Working would get her mind off things as it always did. Even though this was Saturday and she didn't have to come in, it was the best thing for her. Sitting alone in her now semi–empty apartment would only led to another bout of tears, and that was something she wanted to avoid at all cost.

Out of sight, out of mind.