d**k by Law

Chapter 3

3Two hours later, Simon burst into the offices of In¢entive$, Incorporated...in other words, the living room of his house on the outskirts of Melville.

The living room, as usual, was a disaster area. The In¢entive$ crew--heavyset brunette Josie Coleman, green-haired Taiwanese Chip Maple, and slinky angel of darkness Ankha Fedalla--sprawled on the couch and floor amid piles of paper, pizza boxes, and crushed soda cans. It was like staring at the aftermath of a collision between an office supply store and a pizza place. In other words, home sweet home to Simon.

When Simon walked in carrying a brown paper sack, he barely got a reaction from the team. They'd been together too long; they knew each other too well.

Simon took a good look at his makeshift family, then cleared his throat loudly. He was glad they were all hard at work, but he needed their attention now. "He-e-e-e-ere's Johnny!" He said it like Ed McMahon on the old Tonight Show. "Who wants gobs?"

"Where from?" Josie, dominating the couch in her bright orange t-shirt and green shorts like a giant pumpkin, kept typing and clicking on her laptop. She was in her mid-thirties, the same age as Simon, and had known him since college. She'd been with In¢entive$ from the start, five years ago; she'd taken on the role of the big sister he'd never had. "Saint Stephen's, Amish Maid, or Fike's?"

"Only the best for my loyal staff." Simon scooped one out of the paper sack he carried and held it out like a bar of purest gold. "Glosser's Deli!"

Josie slid the laptop aside, jumped off the sofa, and snatched the wax-paper-wrapped gob from Simon's hand. "And the Lord said, 'Let there be light!'"

"You look like you could use some help with that." Chip, who'd been lying on his back on the beige shag carpet, threw aside the sheet of figures he'd been reading and popped up from the floor. The youngest of the group at 22, he was all about everything indie--indie music, indie movies, indie comics, indie clothes. Fresh out of college, he'd started at In¢entive$ as an unpaid intern and had never left; Simon joked that he couldn't remember ever actually hiring him. If Josie was Simon's older sister, Chip was his beloved kid brother.

"Allow me." Chip wiped his hands on his neon blue and black bowling shirt, then grabbed the sack of gobs from Simon's grip. Chortling, he marched the sack over to the coffee table, whose glass surface was buried in paperwork and fast food debris.

When Chip dumped the contents of the sack on top of the other junk on the table, Ankha shot out spidery fingers capped with black nail polish and snagged a gob without hesitation. Tucking the phone between ear and shoulder, she unwrapped the wax paper, exposing the gob--a clamshell of dark chocolate cake with a thick layer of creamy white frosting sandwiched in the middle.

If Josie was Simon's surrogate older sister, and Chip was his little brother, Ankha was his weirdo cousin. Always dressed in black, she was either 29 or 29,000 years old, depending on which Goth personality she was channeling on a given day. She'd joined In¢entive$ two years ago, after a fender bender with Simon; instead of wracking her for the damage she'd caused, Mr. Good Samaritan had hired her for the team.

"So, Simon." Chip took a bite of gob and talked with his mouth full. "What are you gonna eat? Tofu shreds on a bed of lettuce?"

"The sweet taste of victory is all I need." Simon opened the front door and leaned out to pluck mail from the mailbox. "I just saved another civilian from the clutches of Screw Lou."

"Oh, Simon." Josie shook her head, making the brown pigtails on either side bounce and flounce emphatically. "You didn't sneak into FesterTreasures again, did you?"

"It's a free country." Simon shrugged. "If YesterTreasures is where some son of a b***h is scamming little old ladies, then that is where the Lone Appraiser will go!"

"Just so's you stuck it to 'im good, Boss," Chip said around a mouthful of gob.

"Did he get out the baseball bat?" said Josie.

Simon laughed as he sorted the mail. "Of course he did! Sadly, he didn't get around to swinging it."

"Aw, gee." Josie slumped and stuck out her bottom lip. "Dat's my favorite part."

"Enough about me!" Simon slipped one white envelope in the back pocket of his jeans and tossed the rest of the mail on the coffee table. "Tell me what trouble you've been up to, loyal minions...and it better be good!"

Chip popped a last bite of gob in his mouth and rubbed his hands together like a mad scientist. "Oh, it's good, isn't it, Josie?"

"What if we told you..." Josie leered and cackled. "What if we told you we gave away money to teenagers for volunteering at the nursing home?"

Simon gasped and clutched his chest. "No!"

"And then," said Chip, "we got a verbal commitment on a sizeable donation from a major corporation."

Simon shook his head in mock disgust, though he was secretly proud of his team. It wasn't always easy finding sponsors for a non-profit based in a struggling Rust Belt mill town. "I knew I shouldn't have left you three to your own evil devices!" He shook his fist at Josie and Chip.

"Do you know what we did after that?" said Chip.

"We gave more money to another bunch of teenagers," said Josie, "for setting up a homeless shelter!"

"How dare you!" said Simon. "How dare you fulfill the mission of this community-minded not-for-profit organization!"

Suddenly, Ankha spoke up. "Keep it down!" She shook the phone handset overhead. "I'm on the phone, in case you hadn't noticed!"

"Sorry, Mistress of Darkness." Simon tiptoed into the kitchen.

Chip followed. "It's almost W-M time, Sime." He reached up and scrubbed his spiky hair, a pincushion of black roots and bright green highlights.

"What time is that, Chip?" Simon opened the fridge and drew out a pitcher of lemonade. "W-M as in Whack-a-Mole time? Water Making time? Whipping Mutton time?"

"W-M as in washing machine," said Chip. "As in they're delivering your new Apex front-loader from Strayer Roland in one hour."

"You weenie." Josie laughed in Simon's face as she squeezed past him. "You don't know how lucky you are. You'd be such a mess if it wasn't for us."

"That reminds me," said Chip. "I need a raise."

"Me, too," said Josie.

"Me, three!" Ankha said from the living room.

"One raise, coming right up." Simon smiled as he pulled four glasses from the cupboard and filled them with lemonade. The truth was, he did know how lucky he was; other than his foster brother Quinn Keegan, the In¢entive$ threesome were his best friends in the world. Josie, Chip, and Ankha knew him better than almost anyone.

"So how does it feel?" said Josie.

Simon handed her a glass of lemonade. "How does what feel?"

"This is a big day for you." Josie put a hand on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "You don't realize it yet, but today will change the rest of your life."

"Why's that?" said Simon as he handed Chip a glass.

"Switching from a top loader to a front loader." Josie nodded and winked. "Who knows where that could lead."

"All I know is, I can't wait to find out." Simon raised his glass. "To the start of a wonderful new adventure!"

Chip clinked his glass against Simon's. "Laundry...the final frontier!"

"You're entering a whole new cycle." Josie clinked her glass against Simon's and Chip's. "From this day on, you will never be the same."

"I knew I did the right thing, buying this washer." Simon sipped his lemonade. "I am so glad I didn't spend the money on something boring and non-life-changing like a trip around the world."

Josie squinted and bowed her head. "You'd be surprised how far a washer can take you. They don't call it the 'spin cycle' for nothing."