Ground Rules

PUBLISHED BY:

Cate Masters on Smashwords

Ground Rules

Copyright © 2013 by Cate Masters

First published by The Wild Rose Press in 2011

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For my bad boy angel, Gary.

Chapter One

Stifling a yawn, Luke flicked the remote, checking on his assigned stations. Could it possibly get any more boring? One millennium was like any other. He’d tired of his job centuries ago. Monitor screens surrounded him, similar to an earthly office cubicle, though transparent. Associates glided past, to and fro, so impressive in their dedication. They might be a distraction if they weren’t so predictable.

Doing his best to appear a team player, Luke scanned the screens. Images of humans scurried from place to place, oblivious to one another. What did they know of love? Their selfish motives changed little at Christmas time. He could hardly stand watching them.

Except for one human. Not one of his assignments, but once he saw her, he couldn’t stop dialing back to her. So lovely. So unhappy—like him. She stared up at the porcelain angel atop her decorated evergreen, pleading for help. Almost as if speaking directly to him.

She’d become a professional hazard. An obsession. One he had to hide from the others. But the vision of her stayed with him, silently calling to him until he returned to view her again.

Soon, it wasn’t enough to watch from another realm. Luke had to see her in person. A few times he’d dared to slip away to her loft and inside the treetop angel. When she made her plea, his weary soul came to life again. He made his own Christmas wish—for her.

Ridiculous, to behave like this. He didn’t believe in love. He tried to attribute his actions to boredom, but he hadn’t been so smitten with a female since—

At an approaching whoosh down the aisle, he clicked her image to a different one. A pang shot through him, an ache long forgotten.

Zeke appeared in the station beside him. Hey Luke, how’s it going?

Fantastic. Couldn’t be better. You? Luke hoped his coworker didn’t pick up on the disdain. Or the overkill.

Adjusting the multiple monitors, Zeke smiled. Wonderful. I’m really looking forward to the big Christmas Eve bash.

Oh please. Luke would give anything not to have to attend yet another ho-hum event. Stand around and sing, chat up the bosses, flirt with the seraphim—to no avail. He’d give anything to have a little one-on-one time with a girl. A real, in-the-flesh, warm-blooded girl. Her.

Thoughts like that could get him demoted. Stripped of his robes. That is, if he bothered to wear them. He preferred jeans, worn boots, a soft cotton tee.

Zeke hummed Santa Claus is Comin’ to Town.

Careful, Luke joked. Peter will hear. And might organize an impromptu chorus.

Ha. I heard him singing it earlier, so now it’s stuck in my head.

Oo, an earworm. Hate that. And the holiday season in general. But to share that with any of his peers would invite scorn and endless calls for repentance.

Look at those dear people, Zeke mused. Rushing in and out of stores. Why do humans always wait until the last minute to get gifts for friends and loved ones?

I never understood the mentality. Waiting in lines before the break of day to buy buy buy. To fund their spending sprees, they work relentless hours, never able to sate the depth of their desires. Luke could relate. He felt the same, but not about material objects.

With one exception. Ninety horsepower happiness. The rev of a motorcycle engine always brought immediate bliss, especially with him seated atop the bike.

Zeke chuckled. It’s why they need us to look after them.

Enough small talk. It only churned up bad memories of a certain Christmas past. One that ruined his existence. Right. In fact, I think I’ll go out for a spin. Observe up close. Instead of through a screen, though the images appeared three-dimensional.

Zeke glanced up in surprise. Now? You’ll miss the early cantata.

All the better. Peter’s always telling me to get more involved with my work. Show more of an interest. How better to get a feel for the mortals than to ride among them?

A smile made Zeke appear more angelic. True. And they’re at their best this time of year. So full of cheer and good will.

Ho, Luke could argue against that. Miranda had broken his heart that fateful Christmas. The other man might have found her at her best, but Luke had seen her at her worst. And after he’d given her his engagement ring the day before.

Better to pretend an interest in his human charges, and never reveal he wanted only to be one again. Yes, the first time around had given him nothing but heartbreak, but it went with the earthly territory.

The speakers clicked, and the strum of a harp sounded. Luke barely suppressed a wince. With all the talent and innovation up here, couldn’t they come up with any signal more original?

Luke, a booming voice said.

Great. Peter. Yes. Always checking up on him, as if he were some rookie.

The image shimmered on the screen. They should reserve the trite effects for humans. I need you in my office.

Ah, who’d complained now? When?

Now.

He sat straight. Is everything all ri—

Fizzles and sparkles dazzled the screen, and Peter disappeared.

—right… This couldn’t be good. Slumping back, Luke barely had time to drum his fingers on the table top.

Peter’s voice sounded through the ether. Now, as in, this instant.

Right. Might as well get on with it. The sooner he finished, the sooner Luke could hop on his Harley. Blow this popsicle stand, in all its self-aggrandizing majesty.

Rising, he sighed. Mostly, he’d overcome his mortal emotions. Mastered all but frustration. And irritation. Impatience. All those plaguing his life.

Well, his former life.

Traveling along the corridor, he cringed at the golden bells chiming carols. Not that he preferred the usual meh white-on-white décor, but enough with the holiday nonsense.

He nodded in greeting to those passing. Andrew. Pious putz. James. Brown noser. Joan. Hello, babe. Unfortunately, after all these centuries, still too young. And not a bit interested in him.

As he entered Peter’s octagonal office, more transparent videos moved on the walls. Not unusual; Peter kept a close eye on everything. Unlike normally, these all showed the same woman. The very woman Luke had become obsessed with.

Heavenly alarms should have sounded in Luke’s head, but he couldn’t stop staring at her magnified likeness. High definition brought her to vivid life, and it captivated him, made him feel like she was just out of his reach. How apropos.

So lovely. Dimples appeared when she smiled, but her smiles were too rare. Must take a lot to make her happy. In most of the video montage, she frowned, or focused intently. Or gazed absently out the window at the snowfall.

Luke, you’re here. Finally. Peter’s brow arched ever so slightly.

Sir. Luke bowed his head in apology. For being two freaking seconds late.

Let’s get started. In a sweeping gesture, Peter pointed at the images. What do you see?

Holding a hand to his chin, Luke withheld his initial impression, that of an overindulged twenty-something unhappy with her life. After many more viewings, he’d come to the conclusion there was much more to her. Besides, Peter didn’t appreciate negative comments. A beautiful young lady. An artist apparently committed to her craft. Not bad sketches, though she seemed disappointed with them. A perfectionist, no doubt.

And? Peter’s blank expression gave nothing away.

What was this about? Someone must have ratted on him for skimming the last