Did I make a mistake?

The new hire fidgets in front me, glancing at the time on her phone. She brushes imaginary crumbs off her university sweatshirt with her free hand then finger combs her hair. Her grin is far too many miles wide for this early in the morning.

This isn’t a date. What is she doing?

“It’s 7:45 A.M.,” I say, biting back my temper. “Three minutes later than the last time you checked, ten minutes since you clocked in, and eight hours until you can clock out. I suggest you quit time fishing now, or it’ll be a long day, Ms. Vale.” I glare as I stick a new mop in her hand, and grab my trusty old one. “Follow me.”

“Yes! I’m sorry, Mr. Gulch!”

She runs behind to catch up as I exit the maintenance room headed for the building entrance.

She’s still smiling like a fool. I can hear it in her voice. “I’m just so excited! What time do the superheroes come in today? Who will I get to see first?!”

“Aqua-boy. And hence the mops. Every Friday morning he checks in, eight o’clock on the dot. Follow his trail—,” I gesture from the company’s grand entrance up the curving marble stairs,”—to the president’s hallway on the third floor. Work quick to make it safe for anyone coming in behind, but keep your distance from the heroes, you hear me? And put some elbow grease into it—the floors should be sparkling when you’re done.”

“Aqua-boy!” The girl squeals and the sound echoes through the empty building. She dances from foot to foot, peering out the glass wall to outside. “I wonder if he’ll be in his signature swim suit?”

She looks demned near ready to swoon!

This is ridiculous. I made a mistake. She seemed so sane, so calm, in the interview.

“He wears a shirt in the office,” I say, dryly. “And pants. And shoes. Focus, please.”

“A s-shirt?” She pouts. Then she shakes her head and grins. “That’s ok!” She leans against the mop, eyes glossing over. “Just seeing his handsome face is enough.”

Lord help us all. I imagine the towering stack of complaints that will pour in from the the superheroes in the days to come.

Should I just fire her now?

I eye her warily from my post, inconspicuously shielded by a tall houseplant next to the giant sliding doors. Ready and waiting like a statue, professional bland expression in place.

“Over here, Ms. Vale!” I barely have time to say before Aqua-boy saunters through.

Too late.

He wears dark sunglasses, as usual, and is occupied tossing his shoulder length wavy locks into their famed messy disarray.

He doesn’t see Ms. Vale standing in his path.

So much for retiring in a month.

I step out to intercept her movement but freeze.

Literally freeze.

And can only watch in horror, encased in a faint sheet of ice, as the new hire launches herself squealing into Aqua-boy’s arms. Both superhero and my employee slip and slide, tumbling into a watery heap across the floor, slamming into another planter and knocking over a chair.

Someone chuckles from a side alcove. Slow clapping, Winter walks out toward the detangling bodies—her diamond pantsuit too dazzling to the naked eye, her icy spiked heals snapping against the stone floor.

Aqua-boy’s ex. A hero-turned-villain after he broke her heart by cheating on her with Lady Lava.

Had I not been so preoccupied getting Ms. Vale to cooperate, I might have seen her and alerted the task force.

“That was entertaining.” Winter smirks. “Down you went and I didn’t even have to do anything. Thanks to our splendid janitor’s new sidekick.” She bends over the pair menacingly, the water nearby frosting over.

After tapping a fuming Aqua-boy on the head, she cuts me a glare over her shoulder. “Hello Gulch,” she says with disdain. “Good thing you’re retiring. You are far too slow to survive this place.”

I can only move my eyes, so I thrust daggers at her from them—metephorical ones, obviously, but still I hope she feels them.

Fortunately the task force must have been watching on security cameras. They descend from upper floors like spiders on webs, and in less than a minute the secret band of six powerful agents—heroes who don’t work the outside—have Winter on the run.

One of them thaws me with an anti-skill device as the rest pursue our morning villain out the door.

“Third time this year, Mick.” Kels shakes her head at me sympathetically. She’s the only hero I’ve truly befriended in all my time here. Near to retirement herself. “No wonder you can’t wait to get out of here. I’m convinced Winter hates you as much as she hates Aqua-boy.”

“Maybe because I knew of his affair the longest. Who knows.”

He used to meet Lady Lava secretly here after hours in the Defunct Corridor, an area used to question villains as it temporarily disarms abilities. It was the only way the two with incompatible gifts could meet and yet the side effects of using it often can be irreversible, so their relationship puffed out like smoke.

I caught them once and kept the secret because I feared their abilities, but that once was recorded on security footage Winter later got her hands on. She blamed me for the time she wasted with him not knowing—so either way, I ended up paying for it.

Kels eyes the soggy pair on the ground. She clucks her tongue. “My money says a new affair is brewing.”

And she’s right. Unfortunately.

Ms. Vale and Aqua-boy giggle and blush like school kids while introducing themselves. Both of them trying to salvage tangles of wet, soppy hair hanging in their eyes while flirting.

I should be angry. I should stomp and roar and send the girl packing in the same manner Winter fled. But the sight instead is as tangible as the final piece of a puzzle sliding into place.

I know what I have to do.

I hand Kels my mop, smiling. “Mind hanging that up for me, friend?” I stride like a man freed from prison toward the entrance, unfastening my name tag and dropping it into a puddle. “I’ve been frozen, burnt, electrocuted, webbed, and everything else possible. I’ve earned this. Join me for a beer later!”

Kels laughs behind me. I don’t turn and look but just wave as the doors part, and I’m greeted by the cheerful morning sun and a fresh breeze.

“Eight o’clock! Hubert’s pub!” She calls out. “And we’re going dancing after!”

Me? At my age? I almost shout back “No!” But I’m pretty sure in my current mood, I might dance all the way home.

Dancing it is, Kels.

~~~ fin ~~~