1 Chapter 1

“Base to twenty-three.”

Judy’s voice crackles over the radio. I have it turned down low but she’s still a little too loud—I think she yells into the radio on purpose. Usually she gets pissed at a customer and takes it out on us. By the tone of her voice now, I know I’m in for a real treat.

I reach over and turn the radio up. “Go ahead.”

I’m a service tech for the cable company, which means trouble calls and cut drops and little old ladies who can’t figure out how to program their TVs, but sometimes I get a reconnect/leave tag or an emergency mark lines, depending on what needs to be done. It’s after noon already and I have only one more order left for the day, a PM job where the customer wants me after 3:30, so I know Judy has something that’s come up. I can take another few jobs until I have to head out to Walnut Street.

When she doesn’t reply right away, I repeat myself. “Twenty-three here. Go ahead, Base.”

“Charles,” she comes back, a burst of static accompanying my name, “I have a new install I need you to pick up. Can you copy?”

Damn.

I’m not an installer, and I already know I don’t have half the tools needed to complete the job. “Um, Base,” I say, frowning at the road as I drive, “I don’t have any converters on my truck. Is this a basic only install?”

“Negative. But it’s per Bob. He says you can do it. Just tell the customer to pick up a box at the office.”

Per Bob.That means the customer has been a real ass and somehow managed to talk to the supervisor, bitching about something or other, and I’m in for it when I show up at the door. There goes the rest of my afternoon.

Amid another burst of static, Judy asks, “Can you copy?”

“Stand by.” Pulling over to the side of the road, I park in front of an apartment complex and extract a blank work order from under the seat. There’s a pen rolling around on my dashboard; snatching it, I scribble on the paper until it starts to write. “Go ahead.”

“One four seven two Ridgeview Lane.”

I copy down the address.

“Repeating. One four seven two Ridgeview Lane. Customer is a new install, three outlets, collect $42.50. Code red.”

I groan. Code red—I was right. Something happened and the guy wasn’t hooked up when he was supposed to be, and now he’s mad. And they’re sending me into the lion’s den. Just what I need today. “Ten-four.”

“Be careful, Charles,” Judy adds. “He’s a real jerk.”

I roll my eyes as I pull back onto the street. She has to learn to watch what she says over that radio.

* * * *

I pull up in front of the house on Ridgeview and cut off my truck. The house is one of those small, modular units, and looks like all the others on the block. This is a young and upcoming section of town, close to the college, so I can already imagine the customer inside. A newly married couple, maybe, or a bunch of frat boys sharing a place, or some rich snobby kid who could afford the BMW Roadster that glistens in the driveway.

With a sigh, I gather up my clipboard with the word order on top and slam the door behind me as I climb out of the truck. Despite the car parked in the drive, the house is too quiet, and I wonder if the prick is even home.

I gotta stop that. I’m getting to be as bad as the girls at the office who deal with the phone calls every day. Out here in the field, the customer is rarely as bad as the customer service reps make him out to be.

I ring the doorbell. It echoes through the house, and I hear the yip yip yipof a tiny dog inside. I hate those toy dogs. For good measure I knock on the door, pounding it with my fist.

The door flies open and oh my God, I can’t speak. I can’t remember my name, who I work for, what I’m doing here, standing on this porch looking at this man with wavy hair the color of wet sand and glaring eyes as dark as night. He stands before me, an Adonis dressed in nothing but a tiny towel wrapped around his waist that leaves little to the imagination. When I close my eyes I see him in front of me, naked, his body still damp from the shower I obviously interrupted…

Don’t go there, Charles.

That’s my name. It’s written on my shirt above my left breast pocket. I look down to check, and once I’m not staring at him, I can think again. My words tumble out in a rush. “I’m from the cable company? To hook up your cable, Mister…” Judy didn’t tell me his name.