Dead Ringer by Heidi Belleau & Sam Schooler

Author:Heidi Belleau & Sam Schooler [Schooler, Heidi Belleau & Sam]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Riptide Publishing
Published: 2015-10-14T16:00:00+00:00

Five stars. That was what the subject line of the email said.

Actually, it said, FIVE STARS!!!!!!!!!!! ;) :) :0) !!!!!!

Brandon had just gotten home from a long, sleepy afternoon at Percy’s place, takeout in hand, and gone straight to his laptop to try to distract himself from the fact that he hadn’t had a cigarette in six hours and it was starting to make his skin itch. Normally he would’ve had one right away, but Percy’s irritation with it last time made him wonder if he couldn’t cut them altogether.

Also, the fact that James Ringer could act, and Brandon’s nineteen-years-in-the-making idea that he was a no-talent loser who only had a cult following because he’d died young and pretty was wrong.

No, not just wrong.

It had been obliterated.

Fuck.

He put it aside for now—he wasn’t thinking about it, seriously, not at all—and concentrated on the review. Of him impersonating James Ringer.

Stop it. Now he wished he’d focused on wanting a cigarette instead. At least this review was a thousand times more satisfying than lighting up.

Theresa had prefaced it with more exclamation points and LOOK! LOOK! I’M SO PROUD OF YOU, which, as always, came through wholly sincere even over text. As he scrolled, he made a mental promise to himself to send her a fruit basket or a big bouquet of flowers as soon as he had expendable income to spare. Or tea, to repay her for the probably expensive stuff she had given him. Whatever it was, a gift for her, just for being so damn good at her job and so damn nice besides.

Speaking of nice, this review had it in spades, and what’s more, it was from Alfred, who’d once called Brandon cold and unenthusiastic, but now referred to him as passionate, kind, and charming, “the kind of person who will make a repeat customer of everyone he meets.”

Brandon sat back on the couch, containers of Chinese food cooling, ignored, on the table.

It was true.

Wasn’t it?

He’d made a repeat customer of Alfred, and of Percy too. And both appointments he’d left feeling great, and the two of them had been just as happy.

He had known he was working toward making a change in himself, but working toward it and seeing it right in front of him—his first fucking well-earned five-star review—were two completely different things.

It felt good. It felt so good. Now he understood why Ms. Monroe took so much pride in her job, why she was so enthralled with the person she’d made a career of. Brandon could have been doing fine all along. Even that appointment with Harvey. If he had just fucking cared and taken the time to pride himself in his work, then that job would’ve gone smoothly as well. Hell, Brandon would have been glad to take that appointment, and every other one after it.

Oh well. He could make it up with all the appointments after today.

The prospect of getting more five-star reviews was dizzyingly good. The prospect of feeling this awesome after every day of work was so much better.

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