The Do-Over (The Miles High Club #4)(46)

“Don’t get fired,” he says casually.

“Ha . . . me, get fired? They’ll love me.”



Half an hour later I walk into the reception area of the fun park. “Hello, I’m starting work here today. I was told to be here at eleven.”

The bored guy on the front desk looks me up and down. “Just a minute.” He gets on the radio and then says something in Spanish. Someone says something back to him, and he laughs and hangs up. “Have a seat. Someone will be right out.”

I sit down in the lounge area and look around. This looks all right, actually.

A lady comes walking out. She’s older and tough looking. A take-no-shit kind of woman. “Hello. You must be Christo?”

“Yes.” I smile and stand. I hold my hand out to shake hers, and she frowns at it.

Oh . . . I tuck it away. “I’m Christo.”

“Hello, Christo,” she says in a sarcastic voice. “This way.” She walks off and through a double set of doors.

I roll my lips. I don’t like her already. I follow her out into the park. The sounds of kids’ screams as they come down the waterslides are deafening. There are rides and roller coasters and animals and a million fucking people. Balloons and food stalls. Flashing lights and bells sounding.

Everything is magnified in IMAX.

Ugh . . . this place is my worst nightmare. I hope the gift shop is soundproof.

We walk into a building and down a series of corridors until we get to a locker room.

“Okay, you’re Binky Bear.” She slides a coat hanger along a wire rope that hangs from the ceiling. A huge bear costume is dangling from it.

“Excuse me?” I frown. “I don’t understand.”

“You put it on.”

“What do you mean?” I frown.

She widens her eyes and taps the huge bear head. “You’re Binky Bear. Put the costume on and get out there.”

“And do what? Shit in the woods?” I gasp. “I have no idea what fucking bears do.”

“Walk around and play with the kids.”

“I am not qualified to do this,” I scoff.

“You want the job or not?” she snaps.

No . . . no, I don’t.

“Put the damn suit on and walk around the park.”

“And then what?”

“Then you have a break, and then you get dressed into this.” She pulls another coat hanger along the ceiling. A huge disgusting costume comes into view.

“You wear the brown tights and the brown stocking over your head, with the costume as a dress.”

“I am not dressing up like a piece of vomit,” I snap.

“It’s pizza,” she corrects me.

“And I draw the line at a stocking over my head. It’s not happening. No way in hell. I’m not a fucking cat burglar.”

She exhales heavily. “All right, princess.”

I narrow my eyes at this tyrant. “I am not a princess.”

“That’s right,” she replies as she shoves the giant bear head into my arms. “You are Binky Bear and Pete Pizza.” She walks toward the door. “Hurry up. Get out there.” She leaves, and the door bangs behind her.

I look at the stupid huge head, and I drop-kick it hard against the wall. “I hate this prick of a job.” I call Eduardo.

“Hello?” he answers.

“Eddie, I am not in the gift shop. I have to dress up like a motherfucking bear.”

“Oh . . .” He falls silent. “Um . . . what will I do?”

What am I doing . . . this isn’t his fault.

“Nothing,” I snap. “I just want you to know how messed up this shit is, but it will be fine. Goodbye.” I hang up in a rush.

I scratch my head and sit for a while as I stare at the suit. Damn it . . . what do I do now?

Eddie got me this job. I can’t fuck it up.

I unzip the suit and peer in. “Ew, has this ever been washed?” I inhale and wince. “Oh no . . . it smells like ass.” I feel the blood begin to drain out of my face.

I can’t do this.

The doors burst open, and the tyrant comes marching back in. “That a boy.”

I glare at her. “What are you doing?”

“I’ve come to help you get into the costume.”

“This isn’t sanitary,” I mutter as I step into the bottom. “I need a rabies shot.”

She exhales heavily and turns me away from her and zips up the bottom.

The suit is huge, and I slip my arms into the big goofy paws. “This bear is fucking ugly,” I grunt.

“I know.”

“If I was a child, this would traumatize me.”

“Yep.” She pulls it up over my shoulders and zips up the top.

“In fact, I’m traumatized as an adult,” I continue.

She lifts the huge head and puts it on. My vision is suddenly a tunnel, and I feel like I can’t breathe. “It’s fucking hot in here,” I yell as the walls begin to close in on me.

“You’ll get used to it,” she says calmly.

“Get used to it?” I gasp. “Nobody could get used to this.”

She grabs my hand and leads me out. “You’ll have someone with you for a while until you acclimatize to the suit.” The feet are huge, and I feel like I am walking in huge skis or Moon Boots or something.