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Quality Assurance
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Title Page
Book Details
Quality Assurance
About the Author
QUALITY ASSURANCE
SASHA L. MILLER
After a belated birthday celebration, Josh wakes up next to the pretty stranger he took home at the end of the night. A stranger who is gone a few minutes later, leaving behind only a sock and a strange pair of puncture marks on Josh's neck.
The very last place Josh expects to see him is as a new employee at the office where Josh works. He's not opposed to going to lunch together, though—until lunch ends up even stranger than the wounds on his neck.
Book Details
Quality Assurance
Paranormal Days
By Sasha L. Miller
Published by Less Than Three Press LLC
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission of the publisher, except for the purpose of reviews.
Edited by Samantha M. Derr
Cover designed by Megan Derr
This book is a work of fiction and all names, characters, places, and incidents are fictional or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people, places, or events is coincidental.
Second Edition June 2014
Copyright © 2014 by Sasha L. Miller
First Edition Published by Less Than Three Press 2010 in That Famous End
Printed in the United States of America
Digital ISBN 9781620043820
Quality Assurance
Josh groaned, covering his face with one hand as he rolled away from the invasive, too bright sunlight streaming through his bedroom windows. Oh, yeah, he thought fuzzily as he came face-to-face with a head of dark, tousled hair and a pretty face slack with sleep.
Blinking a few times, he tried in vain to remember the man's name. All he remembered was the girls dragging him out for their weekly night of bowling, too much beer because his birthday had been Wednesday, and pretty green eyes and a shy smile.
He'd picked up his mystery man at the bowling alley, he remembered that much. That didn't mean anything except that Elena was going to give him hell on Monday. The rest of the night was a blur, but it wasn't hard to extrapolate, given the aches he felt every time he moved and the complete lack of clothing between the two of them.
Josh stayed where he was for another few minutes before deciding he needed to get up, if only to use the bathroom. A shower would do him wonders, as well as brushing his teeth and popping some aspirin for what little relief it would give his throbbing head.
Should he wake the man? Josh dithered over that question before finally deciding it was too early to deal with a stranger he'd managed to sleep with but not managed to get the name of. Sliding from bed slowly, Josh winced when the movement caused his head to throb more insistently. Scratching idly at his hip, Josh crossed the bedroom, grabbing a mostly dry towel from where it was draped over his closet door.
Padding across the room, he shook his head at the clothing he and Mr. Mystery had left scattered across the floor: jeans, boxers—and was that a plaid shirt? Really, plaid? Snorting in quiet amusement, Josh glanced back at the bed, feeling like he was sneaking out. Only, it was his apartment. He couldn't sneak out. Still, he'd be lying if he said he didn't hope that his half-remembered guest woke up and left while Josh was showering. He wasn't a fan of his infrequent one-night stands hanging around the next morning.
Slipping into the bathroom, he shut and locked the door behind him then started the hot water running. Digging through his medicine cabinet, he quickly found and swallowed three aspirin with the help of a handful of tepid water from the sink tap.
Coffee next, definitely, Josh decided as he ducked under the stingingly hot water to rinse the soap off. He didn't begin to feel more awake until halfway through his admittedly longer than usual shower. Coffee, and then he'd roust his mystery man and show him out. After which he'd make a wonderfully greasy breakfast with sausage, bacon, eggs—
Josh winced, jerking his hand away from his neck when the dull ache he'd been feeling there blossomed into a sharp, painful twinge. That hurt. That hurt a lot. Damn it, he hated when he got stuck with biters who bit too hard. They were second only to guys who didn't keep their fingernails trimmed and liked to dig in during sex.
Making a face, Josh forced himself back under the water. He didn't want to end up at the doctor's office because he hadn't properly cleaned out a bite wound. Josh finished his shower slowly, enjoying the hot water until the need for coffee finally drove him out.
Toweling his hair, Josh ran a hand over his chin, gauging the amount of stubble. He could wait and shave Monday, he decided. It was Saturday, and he was determined to be lazy today. Drying off, he winced when the pain in his neck flared again as he ran the towel over the spot roughly.
Jesus, mystery man must have taken a nice chunk out of his neck. Josh scowled, moving to the bathroom sink and wiping the mirror above it clean—or, well, streaky. Lifting his chin, he peered at his neck curiously.
The hell? Josh stared at the twin puncture marks on his neck. They were both red and raw, but they seemed too small to be causing as much pain as they were. They looked infected, but maybe he'd irritated the wounds in the shower? Josh hoped that was the case; he didn't want to have to explain vampire bites to a doctor.
It had to be a joke. Josh scowled at his reflection in the mirror. He'd brought home someone who thought they were one of the heroes in that sparkly vampire series or something. He should be lucky his bed wasn't covered in glitter.
He didn't remember seeing fangs on mystery man, but he hadn't been looking at the man's teeth when he'd woken up and he didn't remember enough of the previous evening to say whether the man had had fangs then. Shaking his head, Josh finished drying off and wrapped the towel around his waist. Maybe Mr. Mystery was still passed out in Josh's bed and could answer the question of what the hell was wrong with him.
Josh wasn't that lucky. His bed was empty—Mr. Mystery had actually made the bed—and the mystery man's clothes were missing, minus a sock that was half-hidden behind the corner of the dresser.
It was better this way, Josh thought, throwing his towel at the closet door and padding naked to his dresser. No awkward questions, and he didn't have to deal with the weirdo again.
Coffee, he needed coffee and breakfast, and then he could do nothing but watch movies or play games all day.
Josh resisted the urge to tug at the hem of his turtleneck sweater as he headed to the back row of the second-floor cubes. He waved to Elena, but she didn't look much more awake than he felt as she slowly went about booting up her PC and taking the call-forwarding off her phone.
She did give him a smirk. She knew what the turtleneck typically mean, even if he was wearing it for a different reason. The bite mark wasn't healing very quickly, and though the swelling and redness had gone down, it still hurt whenever Josh touched it. Or whenever he turned his head too fast, or if he shrugged too carelessly, and it was a giant pain in his ass. He had it bandaged, but having gauze pressed against it made Josh want to scratch at it.
Dropping into his desk chair, Josh put his cup of coffee down and hit the start button on his computer. While it was booting, he stared blankly at the calendar pinned to his wall. L'Arc de Triomphe was displayed in black and white, the days of October laid out beneath it.
His computer chimed at him when it loaded, and he switched his attention back to it, clicking the email icon and mentally reviewing the few tasks he needed to finish from Friday. Not much: a few computer reformats from employees who'd left the company, including one of the senior IT specialists who'd quit unexpectedly on Thursday, poached by a larger firm downtown. Jos
h's email had only just opened when his boss stuck his head into Josh's cube.
"Morning, Josh," Steve said, flashing him a smile beneath his close-cropped mustache. "Listen, I've got a job for you. Perry was going to take care of it, but that's not happening now."
"Right," Josh said, used to the way Steve didn't bother with pleasantries. Perry had left a lot of unfinished tasks when he'd left last week, but the general consensus in the IT department was good riddance. Perry had been best at foisting his work off on others. "What is it?"
"Guy's starting today," Steve said, shrugging dismissively. "He was working out in Connecticut but moved back here. You'll have to reset his server connections and that sort of thing so he can access things again."
"Oh, right, that quality control guy," Josh said, vaguely remembering it being mentioned at the last department meeting.
"His name is Quinn," Steve said. He jerked a thumb toward the third floor. "He's sitting where Diana used to sit. Should be pie, but let me know if you have any issues."
"Will do," Josh said, pulling out his notepad. "I'll head up in a minute."
"Good," Steve said, then disappeared again, presumably back to his office.
Josh jotted down a few notes—Quinn, Diana's old cube, server resets—and then browsed through his email. Six messages, two of which he could take care of quickly and one from Elena saying she was having printer problems again—her code for saying she wanted to gossip with him. Josh added her to the bottom of his list and locked his computer.
He preferred his Monday mornings with fewer get-up-and-go tasks, but at least none of them would be too difficult. Grabbing his cup of coffee, Josh headed for the nearest stairwell, climbing slowly and wishing he owned high-necked shirts that weren't so thick and warm. Usually he was set with his long-sleeved, button-up shirts in the office; wearing a thick sweater was going to make him too warm and drive him crazy all day.
Diana's old cube was two rows over and three down, and the new guy—new old guy, since he'd been working for Finach Tech Unlimited for longer than Josh—was already there, if the rustling of papers was anything to go by. Josh tapped on the hard plastic edge of the cube wall as he reached the "doorway." Quinn stood with his back to Josh, sorting through the contents of a box on the desk. Josh noted with amusement that his faded, striped button-up shirt didn't quite match the color of his slacks. Quinn turned to face him, and Josh could only stare, dumbfounded, as he came face-to-face with his mystery man.
Quinn was obviously just as surprised to see him. His eyes went wide and the stack of books and papers in his arms slipped from his grasp, toppling to the floor and scattering across the carpet. Quinn swore quietly—either from dropping the papers or running into Josh—and dropped awkwardly to his knees to gather the papers together while Josh gawked.
He'd been planning to chew his mystery man out if he ever ran into him again, but he'd never considered the possibility that he'd be working with the man. Josh couldn't fight with Quinn, not here. He'd have to explain it afterwards, and Steve had said more than once in Josh's hearing that personal matters should stay at home, and he had room to talk since his wife worked on the first floor.
The best thing to do would be to pretend that Friday night had never happened, no matter how much he'd rather yell at Quinn for chomping on him like he was a well-cooked steak. Or a raw steak, Josh supposed, and then decided that thought meant he needed to drink his coffee more quickly.
Setting down his coffee and notepad on the counter top inside Quinn's cube, Josh dropped to his knees and helped collect the spilled papers. He dutifully ignored the nervous glances Quinn kept shooting him. He set his batch of papers on the counter top instead of handing them to Quinn, not sure he trusted Quinn to keep hold of them a second time.
"I'm Josh, down from IT," Josh said, sticking out a hand. "I'm here to fix up your computer."
"Oh, um." Quinn juggled his papers to his left arm, shaking Josh's hand. "Thanks? Um, I'm Quinn."
"Good to meet you," Josh said, trying a smile. It seemed to work reasonably well, though Quinn still looked unsettled. "Have you booted up?"
"Yes," Quinn said, gesturing to the PC tucked into the corner of the cube. The star-field screensaver was displayed, shooting little white stars across the edges of the monitor. "Go ahead? I was just putting stuff away."
"What servers do you usually access?" Josh asked, dragging his coffee and notepad over to the computer. He took a seat in front of the keyboard, nudging the mouse to make it wake up. The desktop was completely blank—no icons or wallpaper, only the start bar.
"I'm not sure?" Quinn said, inching closer. "I mean, the ones I have—there are a few I have mapped network drives to, but I'm not sure the ones my programs run on."
"Alright, well, I'll reset your mapped drives and then we can test your programs to make sure they all work," Josh said, cursing Perry for leaving. If he'd stayed, Josh wouldn't have gotten the nasty shock of running into Friday's fling first thing Monday morning.
"Okay," Quinn said, and Josh glanced over to see him running a hand through his dark hair, tousling it further. "I'm just—I'll be right back."
Josh nodded, breathing a sigh of relief when Quinn disappeared behind the cubical wall. He took a deep draw off his cup of coffee and got to work.
Quinn didn't reappear for nearly fifteen minutes. Josh was only as far as fighting with the first server for recognition, so he couldn't make a clean getaway. Not that he'd have been able to anyway, since he had to stay while Quinn tested his programs. Monday seemed to be getting back at him for all the fun he'd had Friday.
When he did return, Quinn didn't say anything, just started to sort out the papers he'd dropped. He had a mug with him, so he'd taken the time to go get a fresh cup of coffee. Josh didn't try to strike up a conversation like he usually did when he was working with a coworker's computer. The only conversation starters he could think of involved Friday night, and he wasn't going there.
Instead, he focused on doing his work as quickly as he could. He double-checked everything, making sure Quinn's computer could access all the drives he'd saved as well as the web server where the intranet was hosted.
"Okay, can you show me the programs you need to check?" Josh asked, making Quinn startle again. Was he usually that jumpy, Josh wondered as he stood to give Quinn back his chair, or was it Josh's proximity?
"There are only a few," Quinn said. He perched on the edge of his chair, looking like he was ready to flee if Josh made the wrong move. Josh casually put more space between them, grabbing his coffee and fiddling with the cup while Quinn opened a series of programs with swift, sure mouse clicks. A few of them he immediately closed, apparently satisfied with a cursory look.
"These two don't connect," Quinn finally said, glancing back at him uncertainly.
"Can I—?" Josh gestured with his free hand toward the computer.
"Oh, right!" Quinn scrambled up, nearly knocking over the chair in his haste. Josh covered an inappropriate smile by taking another drink of coffee. Unfortunately, that finished the cup, and he regretfully tossed the empty cardboard cup into the trash can under the desk.
It didn't take him long to fix the first program—the server settings were easy to find—but the second baffled him; the server settings were nowhere obvious, and he'd never seen the program for more than a few seconds on some of the other quality assurance associates' computers. Clicking through random menus didn't turn up anything useful, and neither did the vague help documents attached to the application.
Quinn was back to sorting papers when Josh swiveled the desk chair to face him. "Do you know where the server settings are hidden for this program? I haven't worked with this one much, and I can't find it," Josh said, smiling sheepishly.
"I don't know," Quinn said, his brow furrowing in confusion. "I wasn't there when it was set up, and I've had no reason to change them until now."
"Okay," Josh said agreeably, pondering his next move. Ask Steve, probably, and after that,
Mike, the senior quality analyst.
"I'll be back," Josh said, standing up. "I'm going to consult with a few people. If you find anything else that won't connect before I get back, write it down and I'll take care of it then."
"Okay," Quinn said, nodding in emphasis. He gave Josh a hesitant smile that Josh returned despite the way standing up had made the stupid bite on his neck throb.
Snagging his notepad, Josh jotted down a few notes about the program, including the version number and license key, before ducking out of the cube and into the cube-lined hallway. He made his way to the stairwell slowly, absently greeting a few of his coworkers as went. Taking the stairs, Josh decided to stop by Elena's desk first—that might actually brighten his day.
"Hey, Elli," Josh greeted Elena, leaning on her desk. Elena slanted him a glare over the top of her monitor.
"Don't call me that, Joshie," Elena said, jabbing one immaculately polished fingernail at him, "or you can't come to lunch with us today."
"Who's us?" Josh asked, frowning at her. Carrie didn't work Mondays and Ashley started three hours later than they did every day except Friday.
"I'm going to get the new guy to come with. He's about our age, and he seems like a good guy, if quiet," Elena said confidently. He didn't doubt she'd be able to convince Quinn; few people told Elena no. Josh's theory was that a healthy respect for the length of her manicured nails swayed people into agreeing to her demands.
"Okay," Josh agreed, not willing to tell her no—both because of her deadly-looking fingernails and because objecting would make Elena suspicious.
"Good," Elena said decisively. "I'll email you the particulars once he's agreed."
"Sounds good," Josh said, snagging a peppermint out of the crystal dish on the edge of her desk. "How was your weekend?"
"Boring," Elena said. She rolled her eyes, sitting back in her chair. She was wearing a dark blue pencil skirt with her ruffled white blouse and a pair of heels that rivaled her fingernails for deadly-looking. "Brad was out of town on law firm business and the girls were all busy with their houses or husbands or children. I swear I'm going to live in an apartment my entire life, Josh, and never get married or have children—it makes you boring."